#fertilityissue

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Contact us now and get a free consultation with our reputed sexologist and get the best treatment for your sexual disorders. 

Connect with us for a free consultation-

➡️Call/WhatsApp: +91-9831834215

➡️Email us at: [email protected]

Fertility problems in women

Overview Infertility is defined as trying to get pregnant with frequent, unprotected sex for at least a year with no success. Infertility results from female factors about one-third of the time and both female and male factors about one-third of the time. The cause is either unknown or a combination of male and female factors in the remaining cases. Female infertility causes can be difficult…

After my first marriage tore me apart with infidelity, I started writing to help others and to help myself. My story evolved and I found love after heartbreak. I even went on to remarry. A bright new hope, new challenges and blended family life with all the possibilities (through this blog) to help others living in this kind of family unit. I longed to move on and tell the story of our blended family welcoming someone new - a key person who ties us all together. And with each loss, I convinced myself that it will happen when the time is right. The nonsense mantras that we tell ourselves when something in life hasn’t gone to plan.

Each loss becomes easier in some ways, and far more painful in others. I am now a little numb to the news when it initially comes, but after five losses, the pain during the aftermath is devastating.

There is a deep loneliness to suffering recurrent miscarriage.

It feels like we have done this so many times now, the joy of a positive test followed by visits to the early pregnancy unit for reassurance. I hate everything about that place from the colour of the waiting room walls to the smell of the corridors and all the memories that come with it. The elation of being shown the flicker of a heartbeat, which gave us so much hope, followed two weeks later by yet more sorrow.

I have two beautiful children by my first marriage; I am one of the lucky ones. But I keep getting pregnant because I want to give my husband and I the one thing that we do not have - a little bit of us. Someone, as I said, who binds us all together.

I have read every article and searched every pregnancy forum for answers: everyone has a different opinion and no two are exactly the same. We have had tests and will no doubt need more, but it is so frustrating when there is no clear problem and no quick solution. I have been told by the professionals that miscarriage is very common and there is every chance that things will be fine next time. And while I know that statistically many women will experience one miscarriage in their lifetime, only 1% of women will suffer recurrent miscarriage (the occurrence of three or more consecutive miscarriages).

It really is the wrong 1% club to be a part of.

As I mentioned in a previous post, I took this whole process for granted. Having had two children in my twenties with no complications, I thought I would just be able to do it all again with no problems. I wrote about pregnancy loss after one miscarriage and an ectopic pregnancy. Since then, our road has been no easier with three more losses, the latest of which was almost one week shy of three months. My heart and my body feel broken.

The problem with recurrent miscarriage is the only thing that can relieve the sadness that engulfs every corner of your being, is to be pregnant again. There is a desperation to fill the void with the very thing that has been robbed from you. Each time hoping, that this will be the one that sticks. And when it doesn’t, you are literally catapulted back to square one. 

Each one lost but not forgotten.

It is lonely in the 1% club. The old you, that could welcome the weekend with a glass or two of something is gone. You are ‘trying’, but you have been trying for so long and as you have failed so many times, sticking to rules feels vital. Then, you have one less factor to blame when it all goes wrong. You long for an uncomplicated routine, to be able to plan ahead and for the weightlessness of not carrying grief around like a heavy but invisible burden. The secrecy that shrouds the first 12 weeks of pregnancy puts your life on hold. We have been in that phase five times in the last 15 months and it is both difficult and emotionally exhausting, most especially for the woman. Friends and family feel you pull away as you hide, waiting to see if this time, you can eventually share some happy news with them. And then you don’t. You feel as though you have hidden for no reason and that time has been wasted with nothing to show for it.

I have found it easier to cope knowing that some sort of support system was in place. A few key people who know my secret beyond my husband and are there, no matter the outcome. I have found comfort talking to friends who have also experienced loss and who understand the feelings that come hand in hand with the hormonal rollercoaster of miscarriage.

I haven’t shied away from my losses and I haven’t kept them to myself. It is a topic that is so sensitive and so very personal but recent research has highlighted the importance of asking for help and the links between miscarriage, ectopic pregnancy and anxiety and/or long term post-traumatic stress. Current articles have stressed that women need more support following early pregnancy loss as it can have a severely negative impact on mental health. It is a topic that we shy away from discussing; we don’t open up because it is not the done thing to mention our fertility, or lack of. But despite how difficult it might feel, talking is important and it is always okay to as for help.

Where do I go from here? When you have suffered recurrent miscarriage one of the things many people ask is “do you think you can go on and keep trying?” My answer is simple, “yes, absolutely yes.” In my mind, this journey and all this pain has to count for something. I do believe that I will hold our baby some day and when we do, we will be all the more grateful as a result of our story. Until then, I will ask for help, I will seek more answers and try to remember the woman I was before I joined the 1%. She is lost (for now) but not forgotten and as lonely as it sometimes feels, you are never alone.

For those suffering with any kind of pregnancy loss, I have listed some helpful websites below:

https://www.ectopic.org.uk

https://www.miscarriageassociation.org.uk

http://www.sad.scot.nhs.uk/bereavement/pregnancy-loss-stillbirth-and-neonatal-death/

https://www.acog.org

https://www.figo.org/news/what-psychological-impact-miscarriage-0015410

When trying to conceive for so long you find yourself analysing every little change in your body, I have found myself constantly seeing pregnancy symptoms whenever I feel slightly different from the ‘norm’. If my breasts hurt outside if the week before my period, it must be a symptom, if I feel nauseous, it must be morning sickness, if I feel more tired for a few days, it must be pregnancy. I sometimes think I’m going slightly crazy. Thinking it through I know it stems from my attempts to deny that I can’t possibly be not getting pregnant.

I consistently research via google and pregnancy forums about the different symptoms of pregnancy hoping that I can see some resemblance to the ones I’m experiencing hoping and hoping that just this once they are real and I am pregnant finally. This past week I have been more tired than usual, feeling slightly sick at night, of course I almost convinced myself that this was it, this month I have conceived. I am one day away from the day my period was due to start, I tried to make myself wait to take another pregnancy test, leave it for another few weeks. But I couldn’t wait, so I took one this morning….Negative.

Another negative. I know I should have waited to see if I missed my period, but as they have been very irregular these past months I just couldn’t wait. And like an idiot I feel I set myself up for disappointment, why would this month be any different from all the others?

I have always been a patient person, I have always been proud of that fact. But trying to conceive has turned me into a very impatient individual. I am impatient for my cycle to start again, I’m impatient to see whether my period will start on the days it’s supposed to, all so I can see if that month I have conceived. It very much takes the enjoyment of everything that happens between. I have found the struggle to conceive has made everything I enjoy slightly less satisfying, because I’m too busy waiting for the day my period may or may not arrive.

I love reading, I love baking, I love meeting my friends and family for lunch, I love being with my fiancé and watching TV, but all if these hobbies and experiences are marred by the mental calendar in my head, the mental timer ticking down to the first day my next period is due. Everything I have done this past week has all been a blur, enjoyment has taken a backseat to counting down the days to tomorrow. My impatience was too much. I took a test when I promised myself I wouldn’t.

I even wait for my other half to go to work before I took the test. When I do a test it’s like a shameful secret, I can’t take a test in the house with him in here too. I think I feel ashamed of my impatience, I know that hardly makes sense, am I ashamed of my desperation to get pregnant? Or am I ashamed that there’s a chance I can’t get pregnant, and it manifests itself in my secret testing, away from prying eyes to witness my failed attempts to get pregnant again.

That’s what it boils down to in the end doesn’t it, shame. I feel shame that I can’t get pregnant, that I have somehow failed to do the one thing all women are meant to be able to do. No one actively tries to shame me though, it’s not like someone is stood pointing at me and announcing it to the world. But when pregnancy it essentially surrounds you in life, on TV, pregnant women in the street, in magazines you can’t help but compare yourself to them, and feel lacking in comparison. Like somehow you are less than them.

The moment you start your period you are told from day one 'it only takes once to get pregnant'. You are told this by your Mum, Dad, Grandparents...basically anyone with a child themselves. With this one sentence you have been told that you can and will get pregnant one day, whether by accident or on purpose regardless you WILL get pregnant. You are told as a woman this is one thing for certain you will be able to do, carry a baby.

With this information in mind, you might take all the precautions in the world when you become sexually active to prevent it. I did. I had a bad experience of losing my virginity at 16 unprotected, which resulted in me taking the morning after pill. I refused to go through that again, so I got the contraceptive implant in my arm that last 3 years. Covered. Two separate bars over six years never once had a pregnancy scare, one period a year I was confident that I would be able to control my fertility until I was ready.

Fast forward to 24 years of age, and I've being trying and failing to get pregnant for nine months. The one thing I have been told since I was 12 I would be able to do, even by accident if I wasn't careful, I cannot. The pain of seeing those words 'Not Pregnant' on the pregnancy test every month breaks my heart just a little more each time.

I have been trying for 9 months, the same amount of time I should have already been growing a child, maybe even have given birth already. I know many women have been trying for much longer than this, I have read about women trying for years with no success, I didn't understand their pain until recently. Will I join them I wonder, will I be one of them one day? I'm sure they sat where I am once and wondered the same thing.

What's wrong with me? I ask that question every day. Why can't I do the one thing that most of the women in my family seem to be able to do so very easily. The pain of all this is further compounded by the fact that I have to watch my younger sister who is not yet 20 experience her second pregnancy.

Yeah that's right, second pregnancy. She wasn't even 18 when she gave birth to my gorgeous nephew, and she won’t even be 20 when she gives birth to her second. Each pregnancy conceived by accident...whilst on the contraceptive pill. I can’t even get pregnant once on purpose. I am happy for her, I am. But that didn't stop me from screaming down the phone to my mum in tears when I found out. That didn't stop me from lashing out at my fiancé. It didn't stop me from not speaking to her for a week after I found out. She was aware I have been trying for a baby and didn't tell me about her pregnancy until she was 14 weeks gone, she was too scared to. I don't know what upset me more, her fear or her pregnancy. This quest to become pregnant has turned me into someone I'm not sure I know anymore.

I have found myself counting days like I never have before. I count the days of the month to my next period obsessively. If I am a few days over I used to get excited, take a test and wait the few minutes it takes to work, each time I was convinced that this time would be the time it would say ‘Pregnant’, but it never has. ‘Not Pregnant’ God how those words haunt me! The past few months I haven’t taken one even when I am late, I can’t bear it. I don’t want to see those words any more.

I was diagnosed with hypothyroidism two and a half years ago, I was treated with medication for six months. Due to university commitments I couldn’t attend blood tests to be further tested which resulted in me being untreated for it for nearly two years, not good obviously. The latter half of those two years have coincided with my attempts to get pregnant. I’m sure some of you know where I am going with this by now. Further blood tests when life had calmed down resulted in my doctor telling me I had borderline hypothyroidism and refused to medicate me. This has gone on the last year. Further research done by myself has uncovered that hypothyroidism can prevent you from ovulating, so it stops you from releasing an egg. A pretty important ingredient in trying to conceive. But finally, finally after changing doctors I am now being treated for it. I can only cross my fingers and hope that it solves the problem with me.

‘The problem with me’. That’s the crux of all this isn’t it. As the woman you inevitably always blame yourself, it’s never a problem with the other half until it is. Until then it’s you, and in your head it will be you until you are told otherwise.