The Birth Story…(part 1)

The Birth Story…(part 1)

So, 4 weeks to the day of having our little girl, I’m finally getting round to writing down The Birth Story…

The week before I had our little girl, I went into antenatal with stomach pains and some other symptoms I wanted to get checked out. It turned out I had an infection but whilst I was there, they discovered my blood pressure was through the roof and I had protein in my urine.  While I was in as an outpatient, my blood pressure gradually returned to normal and they let me go home, to return in two days.

When I went back, my blood pressure was still high and I still had protein in my urine but I was told to return in four days, unless I had any worrying symptoms in the meantime – in which case I needed to immediately return to antenatal.

Anyhow, the following day I woke up with a banging and persistent headache and on checking my own blood pressure and finding it to be crazily high, I phoned up the hospital and they told me to come in immediately.  After a few hours of being monitored, a doctor came in and said I was at risk of preeclampsia and I was going to be induced.  I was like ‘when?’ they were like ‘now’! At this point I was 38 weeks and totally ready to meet our baby but this set me into a bit of a blind panic and I had a bit of a cry on the midwife.  Hormones have a lot to answer for sometimes!

So, to cut a long story short, they gave me a sweep there and then and discovered I was 1cm and able to have the pessary to induce labour.  Husband went and got mine and the baby’s bags and brought them to the hospital.  Operation ‘look after, feed and walk our dogs’ was set up amongst our nearest and dearest friends. Husband made an emergency trip to Tesco and appeared back with lots of yummy food and a teddy bear! ❤

Not a lot happened that night after the first pessary.  I had terrible prostin pains and didn’t sleep till 5am. In that time I was given paracetamol (did nothing), used the birthing ball, used my TENS machine (helped it some) and finally at about 4am, I asked for stronger drugs. They took away the pain and sent me to sleep for a couple of precious hours.

The next day, hubby turned up early and again, not a lot happened.  The pessary I’d had was a 24 hour one and I’d already been checked and it had done naff all – I was still 1cm dilated.  We spent the day crocheting and bouncing around on the ball (me) and watching stuff on the tablet (him). They decided they were going to give me a 6 hour pessary at teatime and then break my waters when I was dilated enough – if they didn’t break by itself.

Anyhow, the second pessary did the trick.  I started having contractions later on that night.  I won’t go into it all too much but they pretty much knacked.  I had a cry on a (different) midwife who gave me paracetamol (which again did naff all), whacked up the TENS machine, bounced around on the birthing ball and then finally begged for stronger drugs.  Two minutes after taking the stronger tablets, I stood up and vommed all over my hospital room, all over myself and all over the birthing ball (nice).  So the tablets were pretty much a waste of time…

The midwife said she’d get me some gas and air instead which was just amazing and I finally got a bit of sleep in between contractions – which by now were coming every 4-5 minutes.

At 7.30am on the Monday morning, my waters broke and my contractions slowed down to every 10 minutes.  Husband was back by now and not long after that they broke my other waters with the thing that looks like a knitting needle (only one set had gone – I forget which as it’s all very hazy, that Gas and Air is crazy stuff).  They took me down to the Labour Suite shortly after – taking my precious G & A off me for the journey down which was hellish.

The rest of the day is very hazy.  Hubby could probably tell the story way better than me.  I was reunited with the gas and air and also asked for a shot of diamorphine – which was AMAZING!  They put me on the drip to make my contractions come closer together too. I was watching the numbers go up and up and up on the contractions monitor and not feeling a thing during some of them!  Husband said I was sleeping inbetween contractions! However, when the diamorphine wore off, I was feeling those contractions again…!

A bit later, during one of the contractions, I felt an urge to push and upon being checked, they found I was 9cm dilated.  The pushing bit was hard.  The diamorphine had worn off and I couldn’t use the G & A and push too…so I was pretty much on my own. They also found that because I’d not been able to have a wee all day (I just had no urge to empty my bladder at all!) that my bladder was full and needed emptying as the baby’s head was struggling to get past my full bladder!  They had to do this twice before the baby was eventually born as I’d had loads of water and was also on a fluid drip. After a while of pushing, I was being a bit of a pain in the arse and shouting that I couldn’t do it and they had to help me  GET THIS BABY OUT!! Hubby told me to stop saying I couldn’t do it, because I was doing it!!

After a bit, a doctor popped in as my blood pressure was through the roof at this point and I’d had to take 4 beta blockers.  Anyhow she suggested something different – they got me into stirrups and had Husband pushing my chin to my chest.  One contraction later, Hubby could see the head and he shouted out ‘She’s got our hair colour!!!’ (We are both dark blonde) .  Another contraction later and the head was out – followed by the body and at 6.15pm, our little girl was placed on my chest.

We named her Felicity (which means Total Happiness) and she is seriously the bestest thing that has ever happened to us.

I didn’t have the birth I’d envisioned.  There was no water birth or moving around and using the birthing ball due to being induced. I was on a bed and hooked up to various monitors. The pain was hellish.  But I don’t care.  I’d do it all 16x over to have our wonderful daughter.

I wasn’t well immediately after the birth but I’ll save that story for another day.  For now, I’ll add some piccies of our precious bundle:



p.s She’s here!

p.s She’s here!

Our precious miracle arrived 12 days early on Monday 8th August at 6.15pm. After risk of preeclampsia, I was induced on Saturday 6th August. She is beautiful and we are totally smitten with her.


It’s the end of the blog as we know it…

It’s the end of the blog as we know it…

and I guess I’m feeling fine.

Today I’m 23 weeks and 5 days pregnant.  I don’t yet feel ‘safe’ by any means, but I don’t think I will until I hold our precious little girl and kiss her beautiful little nose and fingers and toes.  But I don’t feel the need to write about it anymore. I’m happy to verbalise it in real life, I feel comfortable with labelling myself ‘pregnant’ (yes, it’s taking me over 1/2 of a pregnancy to get to that point!!). I’m over the moon about this miracle of a life growing bigger and stronger inside me every day, we’re really excited and I don’t wish to angst about it or document it here at the moment in the written word.

Also, I don’t wish to turn this blog into a ‘pregnancy update’ blog (sorry, no offence to anyone who does weekly pregnancy updates saying how big their baby is in terms of a fruit or vegetable etc. etc. – but it’s just not for me) –  I have a pregnancy diary for that (which I’m also quite lax in updating. I’m happy for now just ‘being’).  Nor do I want to post bump updates – no-one needs to see my fat stomach…except me, the dogs, cats (who incidentally love lying on it) and The Husband.  Or the window cleaner if he arrives unexpectedly. Nor do I want to turn this into a ‘mummy blog’ – as when the time comes, I think we’ll just want to get on with things quietly  – with the help of a few trusted family and friends for advice (again, no offence to mummy blogs).  So, there’s nowhere left to go with it here for now.

But my real point is, I started this blog as a way to document our IVF journey.  At the moment, that journey is on hold whilst I’m pregnant, and probably will be until/if we decide to go for a number two mini-us (or if something – please no – goes wrong with this pregnancy). And I have no idea if I’d want to document it all again in this fashion. So, I’m calling it a day on the old bloggage for now.  I intend to totally keep reading (and commenting/rooting for) the journeys of the wonderful women who I have been following for the last 18 months – some who are now mums with their miracles, some on their way – through pregnancy, surrogacy, fostering and adoption and others still hoping and persevering.

Thank you for reading and sharing in my blog over the last 18 months, praying, wishing us well and hoping on our behalf. I honestly don’t know sometimes how we would have got through things without such wonderful friends or this outlet. I’m also so happy to have ‘met’ such a wonderful and supportive group of bloggers and shared so much with you all. Lots of love x x x


the end


21 weeks

21 weeks


This week we had our 20 week scan.  It went well until about 20 minutes in when Baby refused to shift into position to have the heart measurements etc. done.  So, after being prodded, tipped back on the couch, laying on my side, walking round the carpark, drinking water (when my bladder was already threatening to explode) and yet more prodding, the sonographer had another go.  But Baby still wasn’t playing…

So, the sonographer said that we’d just have to come back in a week or so to have the last little bit of the scan done.  But everything else was fine – baby looked healthy and was measuring on track. She did say that she’d seen the gender though and revealed that we are Team Pink!!!!! I cried (tears of joy). Totally and utterly over the moon.  It was a gorgeous surprise after both Husband and I were convinced we were having a boy!! We’re both really excited now about shopping/picking names etc. for a little girl and knowing makes it all seem way more real.

So, the next step is another scan in next 7-10 days to finish off the anomaly scan. Praying all is OK with the heart and the rest of the pregnancy goes smoothly.  On the way home from hospital, I bought the first bit of little girl cuteness:


Hoping our little one will get to wear them in about 19 weeks 🙂

So, do you know what you’re having?!

So, do you know what you’re having?!

pink blue

Sorry to those bloggers who have been following our little journey and think I’m about to reveal our baby’s gender. This post is actually just a nod towards those questions that get asked of pregnant people and the reaction that they’re invoking in me.

Of late, it’s becoming a little more obvious that I’m ‘with child’ and not just greedy around the pick n mix (although baby does have a bit of a sweet tooth). These following questions are mostly asked by people who have no idea of our journey to pregnancy – I have met a new group of people since becoming pregnant through a work ‘thing’ and also I hang out with a load of pregnant people every Thursday at aqua-natal class.

*Disclaimer  – if I know you IRL (in real life) and you have asked me any of these questions, it’s totally not a dig – it’s just an insight into how pregnancy and the associated conversations etc. make me feel. I have had to come up with a selection of automatic responses for my own good (and on occasion the person asking them 😉 )

Question: Do you know what you’re having? (Most commonly asked question)

Polite answer: No, not yet.

What I’m thinking? Do I look that fat that I’d know already (I’ve been asked this question since I was 14 weeks pregnant…) Oh my word, they think I’m further along than I actually am. I must stop eating.

Which obviously leads to:

Question: Are you going to find out?

Polite answer: Yes, we’re planning to, if they can tell at our 20 week scan

What I’m thinking? Are you kidding me?? Do you know how long we’ve been waiting for a baby – we’re DYING to know what we’re having!

Question: Do you not want a surprise? (sometimes followed by: If you don’t know what you’re having you’ll push harder) (WTF?!) – Not swearing Mum, that was What the Flip…

Polite answer: No, we want to know so we can plan for the baby

What I’m thinking: Do you know what? There’s been enough surprises along this journey for us already. The gender of the baby will be a surprise to us at 20 weeks, not 40 weeks – and that’s pretty much our choice.  And as for pushing – I can envisage that I’ll be pushing pretty damn hard to meet our little wriggle monkey, whether I know or don’t know its gender…

The surprise for us that we have now got far enough along in a pregnancy that a sonographer would be able to tell our baby’s gender.

Also, unisex baby clothing – yellow, beige or grey anyone??! I want to enjoy these few weeks of baby shopping because we’ve been waiting so long for it.  I want to get adorable newborn stuff that we’ve chosen together as after the baby is born, I can’t see hours of shopping leisurely for baby clothes happening – it’ll be a trolley dash job.

Question: Do you have any preferences?

Polite answer: (To be fair I’ve only been asked this once) No, we just want a healthy baby really.

What I’m thinking: (thought sarcastically) “If it’s not the gender I want, I’m going to be really cross and ask God to take him/her back”

I had to hold my tongue when asked this one.  Seriously.  No. We have no preferences.  God and the miracle of science has blessed us with the child we are meant to have.  And we’ll be over the moon with what loveliness that will be – boy or girl, pink or blue. I actually wanted to scream, “You don’t understand what it took to get this little life inside us – OF COURSE I HAVE NO PREFERENCES!!!!”

Question: Do you have any inklings?

Polite answer: I think it’s a boy. But I’m prepared to be wrong

What I’m thinking: Don’t tell me I’m wrong because I’m carrying low/high/ craving cake/ your Auntie’s best friend’s cousin’s next door neighbour was convinced it was a boy but it was a girl when it came out and she’d already decorated the nursery blue and bought all boy’s clothes. You asked if I had any inklings and I’ve just told you.

Question: Have you thought of any names?

Polite answer: We have a list to choose from when the time comes (thought internally: and no, I’m not telling you any of them)

What I’m thinking: Are you jesting with me? Have we thought of any names??? We have been writing down names for our baby(s) for the best part of 5 years and at this rate, our child is going to have 16 middle names. I actually have no idea how we’re going to whittle it down.

Question: Is this your first? (Only asked by strangers/people I don’t know that well)

Polite answer: Yes it is.

What I’m thinking: No, it’s not.  My first baby was born too soon and is in heaven looking down and smiling at her little family down here.  I’ll never forget her and how she helped us on our way. I would really love to tell you about her, but I know that if I do, I’ll make you feel really awkward. So, I’m going to lie for your benefit and say “Yes, it’s my first”.


Our story – in a nutshell.

Our story – in a nutshell.


A few months ago, my clinic counsellor asked me to be part of an ‘Evening for New Patients.’ The talk was last night. It was pretty scary.  But I wanted to do it – as I know how much it would have helped me if I had attended such an event before we had started IVF. Me and another girl (who had really been through the mill – but now has a 15 month old son) shared our IVF stories with a roomful of people then opened it up to questions.  It went really well.  I decided to share my talk on here too (I did deviate from it a little in places – but I’m glad I typed it out as I feared I would just lose the plot/my thread if I tried to just do it off the top of my head).  As it happens, I included one sentence about the miscarriage (as it’s part of our story) and I lost it a bit emotionally.  I was so glad of my piece of paper, water, my husband sat across the room and deep breaths to recompose myself.  It’s one thing talking to friends and family about something so emotional and writing about it – it’s quite another to tell a roomful of strangers about your lost little baby.

Anyway, here’s my talk – it’s a bit long so congratulations if you make it to the end…

“As you may or may not be able to tell, I’m currently 17 and a half weeks pregnant (I haven’t just been eating too many pies).  I’m not going to tell you one of those stories where I was on the list for IVF and I found out I was pregnant just before it started, or I ‘relaxed’ or went on holiday and came back pregnant.  (I’ve heard plenty of those stories over the last few years…) My husband and I have actually had 2 rounds of IVF here at the clinic and I’m going to tell you a little bit about them. Apologies for reading off this sheet – I’m scared if I don’t that I’ll forget to tell you all something or I’ll just waffle on!!

We started trying for a baby in 2011.  I was naïve enough to think just coming off the pill would mean I would be pregnant in a few months’ time.  Each month came and went, some months I was convinced we had managed to get pregnant – I symptom spotted like crazy – yet either I ended up staring at a blank test or my evil period would show up. After nearly a year of this, we went to the doctors.  I convinced myself it was because of reason X, Y or Z and there was nothing wrong; we just needed to try again the next month. I put it down to stress, being unlucky, timing or just not being healthy enough and denied to myself that there was an actual ‘problem’. In short, I was completely in denial. During this time, it seemed that everyone else was able to get pregnant just by looking at their partners.  Everywhere I looked there was bumps, small babies – in Tesco, around town, absolutely everywhere – also Facebook announcements of ‘surprise’ pregnancies. One friend managed to pop out three babies in the space of time we have been trying to pop out just one. Because of all this going on, there was a certain amount of ‘it’s just not fair’ going on before I was prepared to get practical about it all.

After finally going for blood tests at the doctors, we were referred to our local hospital, which I’m sure is the same for everyone here.  More blood tests, sperm analysis and the very uncomfortable HSG (ouch) progressed us to the point where we were diagnosed with ‘unexplained infertility’ and then referred for IVF.  The consultant bypassed other less invasive treatments like clomid/IUIs due to our age and the fact that all roads lead to IVF anyway.  In other words, he felt we were running out of time, with the IVF cut off age in our area being 40 and he thought that we might as well just get on with it.

To cut a long story short, it was now 2014 and we were due to get married in the November.  We had (obviously) still not got pregnant the traditional/natural way, and we found ourselves in the clinic for the first time 3 days before our wedding for the initial blood tests and scan (due to the wonderful timing of my period).  Exactly a month after our wedding to the day, we had our second appointment where we signed an overwhelming amount of consent forms and received what I felt at the time was an overload of overwhelming information.  What I say to you now is, do not worry about how much information is given to you early on.  You can read everything later and also ask questions as you go along so that you can take everything in at your own pace. All the nurses and other staff are lovely and won’t mind repeating information.

So, come January 2015, I was ready to get started big style.  Unfortunately, the clinic was full that first month I rang up for treatment (since then they have taken on more patients though and if I’d rang up now, I believe this wouldn’t be the case).  I remember this time as being the hardest time – waiting to get started – all the anticipation and fear and different thoughts going through my head – would it work, would it hurt, how on earth would I jab myself with those needles, would I be a hormonal mess?? Then I had to wait another cycle.  I rang up again in February.  They accepted us for March.  This was the beginning of a lot of lessons I learnt about patience…

In the meantime, they sent us out our drugs and booked us in for Teach. The Teach was really helpful in that it went through all the different needles/drugs etc. and went through possible side effects etc.  I came out of there though thinking “how on earth am I going to stick a needle in myself though?”  I do remember feeling really excited however about those drugs arriving and being shown how to use them.  Afterall, those drugs could make our Baby!!! However, we still had to wait for ANOTHER period to arrive and also 21 days after that to start injections.  The time from the start of January (when I had psyched myself up to start) to finally starting injections on March 29th (which happened to be Good Friday) seemed the longest time ever.  I willed us so hard to get pregnant in the meantime so we wouldn’t have to go through it – but each month, my body let us down again. I had given up caffeine in the February, cut down on alcohol, was doing more exercise and generally was eating a fairly healthy diet in preparation.

Husbands or Partners of jabbers, I talk to you directly at this point.  Having done two rounds, and having the ability now to look back – I can now appreciate how hard your job also is. My husband, although he didn’t want to give me the injections, had his part to play.  Find a way to be involved somehow. You may or may not want to help with the injections.  My husband didn’t – and that was fine as I preferred to do them myself.  It’s just a matter of personal choice. My husband did attend every single appointment with me (barring the ones where they just needed my blood) and we kept on talking throughout, even if it was just him admiring my bruises after blood tests or the ones on my stomach after injections. It can seem like all the emphasis is placed on the lady who is injecting and it can seem like a little bit of an isolating experience – to both parties.

To this end, we had to decide who we were going to tell and how open we were going to be about the fact we were doing IVF.  We took the ‘sod it’ route and just before injections started, decided to be entirely open about what was happening to us. In my eyes, we had nothing to be ashamed of and consequently the amount of support our family and friends gave us was overwhelming and totally got us through the events of the next year. People did say some silly things – but not because they didn’t care (and this was something I did have to tell myself a few times) – but more out of a lack of knowledge on the subject.  But the fact that people knew meant I didn’t have to constantly lie about my whereabouts and why I was constantly disappearing off to Big Town AGAIN and why I was not drinking/eating particular foods and not eating cake.  Telling people is a personal choice and some people choose to keep it entirely in their couple bubble or just tell family only. As well as talking, I also wrote a lot of stuff down, both in a notebook – the really private stuff – and in an online blog.  This helped me tremendously with what we were going through as I personally find it easier to write down my feelings than to speak aloud sometimes.  I am so proud of how this baby was ‘conceived’ and all the hard work of the lots of different skilled people that went into the making of him or her and I can’t wait to tell them about it when they are old enough – and tell them just how special and wanted they are.

As well as support from our friends and family, I also attended a fortnightly group that the counsellor ran every second Wednesday.   After my first IVF round, I have also been seeing the counsellor on a 1:1 basis, either weekly or fortnightly.

Anyway, finally I took my first injection on the Good Friday.  I was fine all day – then about 5pm I started crying (I was due to take my injection at 7pm.) Thankfully I had asked a friend to do the first one and I was surprised at how small and fine the needles were and how easy it seemed. Thankfully she offered to sit with me the next night while I did my own injection.  Which I managed just fine.  They stung a bit and my tummy was a bit red afterwards but I wasn’t bothered as I was hoping these minor inconveniences would lead us to our much wanted baby.

The Buserelin which down regulated my system and shut down my ovaries gave me quite bad side effects.  I got headaches and was so overwhelming tired and ever so slightly over emotional and cranky. (My husband may tell that story a little differently).  The nurse had advised us to drink 2L of water every day – which if I didn’t, the headaches were certainly more noticeable.  The Buserelin also made my period a little late which worried me as my period needed to arrive before I could go back to the clinic for a blood test.  Thankfully it arrived just in the nick of time and my blood test went fine, giving me the go ahead to start on the Stimming phase (I was given the Gonal F pen on my first cycle which was so easy to use.  All I had to do was twist the dial to the correct dose and inject with a needle that twisted on).  I was a bit daunted because the Gonal F pen needle was a bit bigger than the Buserelin needles but it was fine.  So now I was on two injections each evening. One to keep my ovaries from releasing eggs and one to stimulate the ovaries into producing follicles.  Finding a space amongst the bruises was sometimes a little tricky!

After 6 days, I went back to the clinic for a blood test.  I remember at this point feeling lots of twanging in my ovaries and I was convinced I had loads of eggs in there.  What I will say to you now is ‘Don’t get fixated on numbers’…I wanted loads of eggs, but loads isn’t always good and your body will do what your body will do.  Everyone is different and don’t put expectations on yourself or your ovaries.

2 days later, I went for a scan and what I thought was going on in there, was so different to what was actually going on in there.  I had 3 follicles of a noticeable size and six teeny ones that had potential to grow.  I remember being a little disappointed – especially after reading stories on the internet of people having numbers of eggs in their teens, twenties and even thirties…

In the end though, I stimmed for 14 days before they told me I was ready for the trigger shot.  Some people take longer than that, others don’t take very long at all.  The trigger shot itself was a little tricky and made me feel a little bit like a chemist but after that was done and dusted – all there was to do was wait for egg collection – which had me fairly angsty in itself.

Egg collection day, we got there bright and early having been nil by mouth from midnight the night before.  I have to be honest, I was scared stiff about egg collection.  I’ve never had any medical procedures done before or been under sedation and I was petrified.  Thankfully all the medical staff were lovely and reassuring and although I was last to go down to theatre – I managed to keep myself occupied with books, magazines etc. (Top tip, take plenty to keep you occupied and your mind busy)…

When I woke up from egg collection, I was told that I had managed to get 8 eggs.  I was wheeled back to hubby and then given pain relief, toast and tea.  I seriously think it was the best toast I have ever tasted…after the pain had died down and I’d managed to have a wee, I was allowed to be taken home.

I spent the next day on the sofa with a hot water bottle.  Make sure you have nothing planned for the day of or after egg collection. I laid on the sofa and watched films all day.  It was a bit like having really bad period pains.  We also got the news the next day as well that out of the 8 eggs, only 3 were mature but they had all fertilised.  We called the embryos Ellie, Ernie and Elvis.

On day 3, we found out that all 3 were still doing well and they wanted us to hang on until day 5 as they were no strong ‘leaders’. Day 5 we received the phonecall asking us to come in at midday and telling us that they would transfer 2 today and let us know the following day if the other was fit for freezing.

Midday we arrived.  Transfer itself was uncomfortable, I won’t lie – it was a little like a really uncomfortable smear –  but at the same time it was amazing watching our little embryos being placed inside me on the screen.  (I cried…)

Then we waited…unfortunately our third embryo wasn’t fit for freezing so all was resting on the two inside me.

After a week, I caved and tested.  I couldn’t believe it when I saw a faint line.  Over the next few days, I neurotically took quite a few more tests (I don’t really want to tell you how many…) until it got to official test date when I took yet another test and it was still positive. And a nice strong positive at that.

I had been taking progesterone pessaries since egg collection and was told to carry them on until week 12 of pregnancy.  We were over the moon to finally be pregnant after all this time and couldn’t believe it had worked the first time!

However, unfortunately, when I was 12 weeks and 2 days pregnant, I started bleeding heavily. My husband took me to hospital but I miscarried our baby the next day.

Throughout the next few weeks, I sought help from the counsellor who I had weekly appointments with and friends and family and our local church were also a great support to us.

The clinic wanted us to wait 3 months after the miscarriage to try again.  This is normal protocol but at the time seemed like forever to wait. After I had done all the usual and predictable things like crying, overeating, getting pissed, more crying – I vowed I was going to do everything in my power to get pregnant again and stay pregnant. In the end, the three months were needed for me to feel I was at peak health and to get my brain back into the right place.

So, I researched loads, we saw the Dr for our follow up appointment and asked a million questions, I bought Co-Enzyme Q 10 to help with egg quality, majorly changed my diet to a paleo one, upped the exercise and just got myself as ‘clean’ and fit and healthy as I possibly could – both in body and mind.  This helped the time pass, as when you’re waiting for something like this – 3 months can seem like such a crazily long time! During this time, I didn’t even mind getting my evil period as each one was just another tick closer to being able to start again.

Our second IVF cycle seemed to go a lot faster and just went smoother in general.  I think it’s because I knew what was coming up.  My drugs had been changed slightly (the Gonal F was now Menopur to stimulate the eggs) and my trigger shot was doubled to try and get more mature eggs this time.  I was also told to stay on the progesterone for longer if we got a positive pregnancy test this time. To help myself,  I also drank more water this time round – upping it to 3L a day – which seemed to help with the side effects (especially the headaches) that I got last time (although I was constantly using the bathroom!).

I think what helped me the 2nd time round was to compartmentalize the process and mentally split it into boxes.  I split the process into down regulation, stimming, egg collection, transfer and 2ww and tried to mentally tick each part off as it was done – not jumping ahead to the next bit and staying in the moment.  It helped me to stay in each part and not angst about what was coming.

This time, we got 8 eggs again – but 6 were mature! All 6 fertilised and made it to day 5.  As it was early December, we named these ones festive name of Holly, Mary, Joseph, Carol , Frosty and Gabriel.  I had 2 transferred – and 1 made it to the freezer. I again tested early (I know I’m bad…) and again found out I was pregnant.  I did at this point start bleeding and had painful cramping which obviously sent me into a complete tailspin after our miscarriage.  I mention this only so you know that this implantation bleeding and pains can happen and to try not to panic if it does!  The bleeding stopped when I was 5 weeks pregnant thankfully but the EPU looked after me well, taking blood HCG levels and scanning me until they located the baby in the correct place and with a heartbeat. Me and my husband have our fingers firmly crossed that this wriggly little monkey in here is our take home baby and I wish the same for each and every one of you here.  Good luck and stay positive.  It really does work and I hope you can take something positive away from our story.

If I could give you some top tips, it would be these:

  1. Try not to get upset about the injections stinging/bruising/marking etc. Each one is one step closer to that ultimate baby goal.
  2. It is all consuming – try and take time off work/reduce hours/take holidays if you can. It’s more or less impossible to just carry on as normal and as if nothing is happening.
  3. Get into a routine early of giving up things like caffeine and alcohol (or at least reduce it). The last thing you want is side effects from the drugs and also caffeine withdrawal headaches at the same time!
  4. People will say really crap stuff to you. Take it with a pinch of salt and chances are these people love you and are saying it out of ignorance rather than going all out to upset you.
  5. Try not to Google. I was a pain for doing this (in fact I still am) but it’s never a good idea! But at the same time, do be as informed as you can.  Read books, articles etc.
  6. Take hope – it does work. Babies are born every day via IVF.  It’s an amazing process and without it I would never have been pregnant once, never mind twice…
  7. Try not to test early (says the girl who tested early twice) as the trigger drugs can give you a false positive and also you can drive yourself nuts with the whole “is it a line or a shadow” thing.
  8. Be kind to yourself. Treat yourself, go out on dates (you can always do your injections in the toilets, I did this loads!) and keep talking and communicating and looking after your relationship.”

I hope somebody out there finds this helpful 🙂


A little pre-Mother’s Day ramble

A little pre-Mother’s Day ramble


Tomorrow is Mother’s Day in the UK (just so you non-UK blogging readers know!). Last year on Mother’s Day, we were right in the middle of The Wait for IVF 1. Husband was away and it was obviously Sunday (with it being Mothering Sunday and all).  I stayed home from church as I have most years.  Nobody struggling with fertility wants to sit in a church service centred around ‘mothering’ – there’s just no point in putting oneself through that. Anyway, while I was home alone, the phone rang and it was the IVF clinic telling us our dates to start treatment. It kind of felt like a good sign that the phone call arrived on that day…

A few people said to me that day, “This time next year on Mother’s Day, it’ll all be so different.” And do you know what – it is.  I am a mum to a little angel baby – lovely, precious Ellie.  And to the gorgeous little wriggler inside me now.  But I still have no baby in my arms.  But it’s OK. I can wait.  Because it’s all going to be so worth it.

Mother’s Day (like Father’s Day) is such a sad day for some and it feels wrong to not acknowledge that.  I know that all the rubbish in the shops has made me think more of our little angel baby and how she ‘should’ be here making me little footprint cards (courtesy of Husband of course – I don’t think any 2 month old baby is innovative or clever enough to do that themselves).

So, tomorrow – my heart and thoughts are going out to my precious friends who are un-celebrating Mother’s Day – either because their own mum is sadly no longer with them or because of ongoing struggles with infertility and loss.

Love to all x x