To IVF and beyond

After years of heartache and torment it’s hardly surprising that the infertility chip on your shoulder is still very much present and showing very little sign of letting up. You may have ‘beaten’ infertility and have your perfect 2 point 4 children but it doesn’t eliminate the pain that has been so deeply rooted within you for so long. After 6 years, or to put it into context 72 months of trying and failing it is not a feeling that simply goes away just because you now have your babies. The wounds may heal in time but you will always carry the scars. Just because you didn’t instantly feel that indescribable love at first sight for your baby doesn’t mean you’re a bad mum, it’s a lot to process for any new mum, it’s one of the biggest life changing events you will ever experience. Add into that the traumatic lead up to this moment you are bound to be experiencing an explosion of emotions from absolute joy to, an overwhelming sense of relief or complete fear of what you are meant to do with this vulnerable tiny little human. Just because that instant bond wasn’t established when they were placed on your chest doesn’t mean you’re any less of a mum then the next person and it doesn’t mean that you’re not deserving, it just means it may take you a little longer to get there, it’s not a race so give yourself time. The truth is it’s taken you a bloody long time to reach this point so if it takes you a while to process it all then listen to your body, take a step back and breath. There may be days you feel like you cannot continue or you may yearn for your pre-baby days, just because your family are the result of fertility treatment doesn’t mean that you aren’t entitled to have these feelings. In fact just because you are where you are through fertility treatment doesn’t mean that you have to enjoy every second of parenthood, you are allowed to have your bad days and not feel that you will judged or appear ungrateful. You may have had to go that extra mile but that doesn’t mean you have to be super mum, it doesn’t mean you are not entitled to whinge about your crying, needy baby. You’re allowed shit days just like everyone else, if you want to sit and watch a marathon of Peaky Blinders with week old greasy hair, a vomit covered hoody surrounded by a mass of half drunk bottles then do it, as long as your baby is loved, fed and has a happy, healthy mum then what’s the issue.

The obstetrician was the unfortunate soul that had to bear the bad news that it was highly likely an emergency c section was going to be necessary, however not before trying to manually manipulate the baby back into position. If I thought the contractions were bad this was a whole new World, I cannot put into words the pain during the couple of minutes procedure, all whilst without my trusty gas and air which had been confiscated by the midwife. Obviously my all natural birth plan did not envisage a c section, so the news broke me, I’m not going to lie I was devastated and so was hubby as he knew how much a natural birth meant to me, but we knew that it had to be done. We were left for 30 minutes to gather our thoughts and see if by way of a miracle baby turned, we weren’t hopeful. It was then that hubby went off to clear his head and of course it was then that shit went down. The manual manipulation had obviously pissed Squidlet off that much that he was now a very unhappy little camper in what was once his happy little home, this of course changed the whole mood in the labour room and people were flying round in all directions. I had canulas and IV lines being inserted all over the place, a consent form was thrown under my nose to sign, the monitors were beeping and flashing all over the place, the midwives we’re calling out the on call team to prep the operating theatre, I don’t think I’d realised how quickly things can change, a couple of hours before I was happily bouncing on my ball eating a fruit salad. It was just as hubby came back into the room that they started getting me ready to wheel down to theatre, I think the moment I realised things weren’t quite right was when I was been driven down the long hospital corridors at 50mph! I’ve never experienced fear like it, or the overwhelming sense of helplessness, we were so close to meeting our little boy yet I feared we were going to be dealt one last shitty card and things were going to end terribly for us and that we weren’t going to be a family of 3 after all, I had always said it was too good to be true! From here on everything just became a blur really, I remember kissing hubby goodbye whilst I went in to be prepped, trying to hold myself as still as possible whilst contracting as they inserted the spinal, they warned me that if they couldn’t get that in I was going to have to go under general anaesthetic which meant hubby couldn’t be in the room and I couldn’t have that I couldn’t take that moment away from him, something he’d longed for for so long. For me having a caesarean was like a strange out of body experience (to be fair it was probably due to the cocktails of drugs), I was partially aware of what was going on but it felt like i was watching over as some sort of spectator. It’s the strangest sensation, I felt some kind of release as they delivered Squidlet from his safe cocoon, it’s wasn’t painful, just a strange feeling of emptiness. It felt like a lifetime until we heard a cry, we both just stared at each other, not saying a thing, willing for anything to break the awful silence. It was a good few minutes until we heard the the most beautiful sound fill the operating theatre, he was finally here, our precious little bundle, albeit not quite as expected! 😳

To be continued.....

The morning after the night before and hubby and I woke up feeling somewhat deflated, I think we'd both expected shit to go down overnight alas nothing, absolutely nothing! We were both feeling pretty frustrated as the midwives had taken the 'out of sight out of mind' attitude, not once coming in to do any checks on me after being sent over to Guernsey. It was only after hubby went out to speak to the matron and voice our concerns that someone actually came in to chat with us, apparently as I didn't seem to yet be in ‘active’ labour they'd leave me be but how long would that be?? Yes I know, how longs a piece of string! Finally, at midday we struck gold, the on call obstetrician popped in to see how we were doing, we both stated that we were already pretty frustrated with the situation and if nothing was going to happen any time soon then we wanted to go home, unfortunately not all parties agreed to this! The obstetrician advised that whilst he was happy for hubby to go home he wasn't willing to sign me off to travel, so that was it, I was incarcerated in hospital, in Guernsey for the unforeseeable! Hubby was absolutely against leaving me in Guernsey on my own, so he succumbed to the fact that he would also be riding it out in Guernsey...I suppose at least we were going to get our baby moon after all...every cloud! The only consolation was as I had ‘a show’ the night before they offered me a sweep to help Squidlet shifty along, we were advised it was the least invasive method and given that things were on the move it might kickstart the process, of course given the circumstances we jumped at the offer. I can’t say the sweep was the pinnacle of my pregnancy however it wasn’t as painful as I was expecting, a bit like a smear just a little more rough/scratchy. We were pleasantly surprised to be told I was actually 2cm dilated so things were on the move and make sure we went for lots of walks and had lots of sex, the latter being the absolute last thing on my mind, and if I’m honest hubby’s too, I mean who wants to be playing bed Olympics when heavily pregnant?! 😳We were advised if nothing changed within the next 48 hours to come back for another sweep. That night we decided we’d take the midwives advice and have the most awkward, uncomfortable sex ever, I mean who at 39 weeks pregnant wants to be straddled by their partner?! I didn’t care, needs must and all that! Two days later we were back on the maternity ward with me having my cervix tickled by yet another midwife whilst poor hubby sat in the chair next to me looking as equally as pissed off as me. I was still 2cm so we were told to go for lots of walks and you guessed it, lots of sex to get things moving, however they were confident that everything was heading in the right direction. Before we left we were pencilled in for our 3rd sweep in another 48 hours, I vowed I wouldn’t be going in for another sweep so I would walk until I was physically unable to. Well what can I say, my wish was granted, after walking all morning I started to feel just a little uncomfortable, I felt like I was having to clench with all my might to keep everything in, every step seemed to get worse, with every little niggle I told myself I’d wait and see how bad the next contraction was before making a decision. It got to around 4pm on the afternoon of the 1st April and hubby decided enough was enough and we needed to head back to the hospital. Little did we know we were in for yet another disappointment, I didn’t ‘look’ like I was in labour so we were advised to go home, get some rest and call the ward if anything changed. Through that night we had three further visits to the ward, all of which we were sent ‘home’ with a token couple of paracetamol to ease the pain 🙄 It wasn’t until 7:45 the morning of the 2nd April after helpless hubby timing contractions and numerous calls to the maternity ward that I succumbed to the fact that I needed to get my sorry arse to hospital.

Being an expectant mum in Alderney one thing you have to accept is the fact that you will inevitably have to travel over to Guernsey (the larger Channel Island) to give birth. This is something that filled me with dread from very early on, I had many an irrational fear, how would I know when I was in labour? Would I get to Guernsey on time? Who would look after our dog? What if we didn't get to Guernsey in time??? Well, as it turned out it was something I wasn't going to have to worry myself with as it was decided a few weeks before my due date that all expectants mums in Alderney were strongly advised to get their pregnant arses to Guernsey from 38 weeks due to lack of medivac service in Alderney. Medivac I hear you ask - well, with Alderney being such a small Island only with only 2000ish inhabitants (probably a lot less these days) services are very limited, this includes the support available to mums to be. I've probably already harped on in previous entries but for anyone who has missed it this includes midwifery care, we have no practicing midwives on Alderney hence the need to travel to Guernsey for pretty much anything pregnancy related....apart from a fortnightly visit from the midwife (weather permitting!). So as you teeter on the edge of birthing you are expected to temporarily pack your life up and camp out in a totally unfamiliar environment whilst you wait and wait (and wait some more for some) for your little bundle to decide to make an appearance! Hubby and I 'um'ed and ah'ed' at great lengths about going down in advance however we decided we'd chance it and wait until things started moving....well things did start moving! I hadn't been feeling 'myself' for a couple of days, I'd been suffering with back pain, a lot of tightening and pressure 'down there' (you ladies will know what I'm on about) and then that evening I had the all important show, prompting a panicked phone call to the Maternity Ward in Guernsey to be told that they strongly advised we get ourselves over to Guernsey ASAP....that was easier said than done as the airport was closed until the following day. The midwife did reassure me that it could still be a few more days or even weeks before the baby decided to make an appearance so there was no need for mass panic just yet. Thankfully I was due to see the midwife the following day so I was happy to sleep on it and see what she had to say, however sleeping was the last thing on my mind as I lay there counting the hours down until morning, every little twinge was followed by a frenzied panic wondering if baby was going to make an appearance at home in the dead of night! After a very sleepless night it was a trip to the midwife who agreed with the advice given the night before that we needed to get ourselves across to Guernsey and wait it out as Squidlets arrival seemed imminent!!! Things are never that easy though, we had to sort a dog sitter, hubby had to arrange cover at work, we had to finish packing our bags....oh and there was just the issue of where the heck were we going to stay?!? Thankfully we were given the use of a private room in the maternity ward for the night in the hope that things may start progressing overnight, however stubborn little Squidlet had other ideas 😳

There isn't really much I can say that is any different to any other pregnancy, I was one of the 'lucky ones'...that was until I reached 20 weeks when I was crippled by the most painful sciatica EVER...yes I'm probably being overly dramatic! Baby had moved and decided to get comfortable right on top of my sciatic nerve, cue the most awful pain ever (well so I thought), I couldn't put any weight whatsoever on my right hand side, even walking was a struggle! After a trip to the GP I was advised to rest up and avoid any exercise for the foreseeable, take paracetamol as and when needed and when the pain was severe use heat patches...neither of which made even the slightest difference 😞A good few days passed of me dragging my sorry arse around the house feeling sorry for myself, obviously I decided to pass time by googling sciatica in pregnancy and was horrified to read that it might be something I was stuck till until baby came, that was another 20 weeks 😱 As walking was an issue work was off the cards as I had 2 flights of stairs to conquer every day before I even got to the comfort of my desk, it was literally park arse on sofa and remain in that position until I absolutely had to get up! Even then it would take me a good 5-10 minutes to even muster up the courage to move as the pain was that unbearable! Hubby decided enough was enough and he spoke to the Islands Remedial Massage Therapist to book me in, after just 1 session I was honestly like a new woman, the discomfort was still there but it was more than bearable, after the success of the first session I booked 2 weekly appointments to try and keep the sciatica at bay until due date! The sciatica never fully disappeared during my pregnancy, every now and then I'd get a niggle but with the fortnightly sessions it meant I could return to work and sit as comfortably as I could at my desk for the next couple of months!

It felt like so much time had passed after our pregnancy announcement before we hit our next milestone, I'd excitedly cross the days off of the calendar without fail every day and then panic at how quickly time was passing! The 20 week anomaly scan marked the half way point, it also meant we got to find out whether we were expecting a pink or blue! It seemed crazy I had this little person growing inside of me and yet we still didn't know whether they were a he or she! We had always agreed that when the time came we didn't want to find out the sex of our baby however the curiosity got the better of us (or maybe me more so!), I knew I couldn't go another 20 weeks without knowing! I'd wasted hours online looking at suggested tips and tricks to determine the sex of the baby, obviously most of which were just old wives tales! On the day of the scan there was no denying what our little Squidlet was, hubby zoned in pretty much immediately on his Crown Jewels and obviously couldn't keep his excitement to himself! The confirmation from the sonographer seemed to ignite an overwhelming sense of emotions for the both of us and the tears started flowing. Of course without question the most important thing was that baby was healthy however we had both always rather naughtily said we'd be over the moon if Squidlet was a boy! Leaving the hospital with a skip in our step we were now on a mission to find anything fire engine related as Squidlet was of course going to share hubby's passion (or shall I say obsession!) in the fire service!

As I sit here cuddling my 6 week old little man I'm aware I have failed tremendously at updating my blog and oh my days I have a lot to tell you! It's something I've been meaning to get round to since our 12 week announcement in September (seriously where has the time gone?!?) but sadly has been pushed to the side every time, hubby is now nagging me so here goes...As you are all aware by now we conceived through IVF so I will give you an insight into my pregnancy through 'IVF tinted glasses'. Although it was only ever the conception we had trouble with the professionals seemed to be incredibly twitchy at the thought of dealing with an IVF pregnancy...I was placed in the 'risk' category purely due to the fact that I was carrying an IVF baby and that it was my first baby (I cannot see how the latter is classed as a risk but hey ho). I'm not going to drone on about all things wonderful (and not so) in the 9 months leading up to Squidlets arrival (and after), instead I'll give you an honest account of my journey and the struggles we encountered along the way due to living in Alderney and having limited midwifery services available to us 'Island Ladies'. plus through into the mix the 'risk factor' of our IVF pregnancy! I'm going to aim to update my blog on a weekly basis so please bear with me..slow and steady wins the race!

Don’t worry, this isn’t me signing off, I will keep you updated on the adventures of Squidlet through the upcoming months, you’ll be sick of me come April 2017!

The IVF World has come a long way since its first baby in 1978 however it still remains to be such a taboo subject amongst so many.  Of the 1 in 8 couples affected by infertility in the UK, 5% of those would go on to have IVF, those couples would know very little about the process initially and it is incredibly daunting (I can say from experience).    I find it incredibly sad to think that some people struggling with infertility are ashamed to talk about their journey, I’ve seen it far too much through various blogs, Instagram etc.  There are people that would much rather talk to complete strangers rather than their own family/friends, it baffles me.  I/we could not have gotten through this without having been so open, maybe too open at times but there is absolutely nothing to be ashamed of, I am more than happy to admit that I am proud of what we’ve been through, it’s made me appreciate family, friends, my husband that little bit more.  Everyone has their own unique journey and why not embrace it and tell the World, that way we can help each other and make the infertile journey that little bit easier and less daunting.  I am fully aware that not every IVF journey ends as positively as ours has, we are incredibly lucky and I thank my lucky stars every day for being blessed with a pregnancy on our first attempt but it wasn’t easy, the one thing you can never prepare yourself for is how ridiculously tough it is on both you of physically and mentally but you just need to remind yourself of why you doing it and hopefully the end result!

Friday 19th August was the date of the all-important 7 week scan, sadly hubby was due to be away on a stag do so it meant a day away in Guernsey with my Mum and Niece.  In the few days leading up to the scan I was so incredibly anxious.  I kept thinking what if they scan me and there isn’t actually anything in there, I was convinced I was having some sort of phantom pregnancy like a poor cat would have!    After having to wait an extra three quarters of an hour due to the Consultant running behind schedule we were called through, to add to my anxiety I had a new Consultant and if I’m completely honest I did question whether he was actually a qualified Gynaecologist, the poor man didn’t have a clue…in the end I put it down to ‘new job’ nerves! Much to my relief when we finally got sorted the scan showed a teeny little bean measuring right on track at 7 weeks and a whopping 1cm, it was just amazing, we even got to see the flutter of its tiny little heartbeat on the screen…it was just absolutely fascinating, I was speechless!   I was absolutely in love with this blob on the screen, we had finally managed to make our very own little Squidlet!!  Although we knew it was still very early days it was another hurdle we’d managed to overcome.   We decided that although all looked pretty promising at this stage we were going to keep quiet until our 12 week scan as so much could still go wrong at such an early stage.  I must confess though I did very naughtily buy a couple of new-born babygros in celebration, something I always stressed I wouldn’t do, they were safely hidden away as soon as I got home (out of sight out of mind).  The following few weeks were just a case of continuing to ‘be careful’, I was fearful that anything at all would pose a risk to my growing baby…lack of sleep, stress, being unwell.   I had turned into a nervous wreck and I was driving myself (and my husband) crazy.  I was half expecting at any time for our ‘little miracle’ to be taken away from us and for us to wake up from our dream, this kind of thing never happens to us and I never expected in a million years that we would be lucky enough to fall pregnant following our first round of IVF.  We also had the challenge of trying to keep our fantastic news to ourselves, obviously we wanted to shout it from the rooftops however we just needed to get to the 12 week mark before making it ‘public’.  It was very difficult as we’d made our journey so public with writing this blog everyone was eager to hear if we had any good news, I lost count the amount of times I’d find myself saying ‘oh, not long now’, ‘just a few more tests’, I am the worst liar in the world so I have no doubt people could see straight through me.    

After all that excitement it was off to work for my husband and back to bed with a coffee (decaf) for me.   Our test day also coincided with the first day of Alderney Week (Alderney’s biggest yearly event which usually entails a lot of drinking and partying).  We already knew that my no drinking may raise a few questions as I do enjoy the odd drink during Alderney Week (who doesn’t?!). Obviously we wanted to keep our news as quiet as we could until at least my 7 week viability scan or even better 12 weeks but we knew that would be a struggle.  

The test date we were given by Wessex was Saturday 30th July, 12 days after transfer, I know 12 days really isn’t that long in the grand scheme of things but wow I don’t think I have ever known time to pass by so slowly, more so I’d imagine because I’d pretty much been wrapped in cotton wool for fear of Squidlet ‘unsticking’.   No housework, no dog walking, no stressing…no nothing, it was painful…I felt like I was going to lose my mind. We were advised to try and keep our minds active over the next couple of weeks but how could you possibly do that when the highlight of your day was a back to back episode of Jeremy Kyle. Thankfully I only had the first week off work so the following week wasn’t quite so bad although as hard as I tried even work didn’t stop my mind wandering….my concentration must have been on par with a goldfish!   Every little niggle I had during the 2ww I’d Google, I’d then find myself on IVF forums which are of no benefit whatsoever, I’m sure they help some people but I personally can’t see how, I honestly spent hours on the internet looking at symptoms, either getting excited because I had something similar or ending up in tears because I could relate to nothing.  The Internet was my enemy during this time, my poor husband was at the end of his tether.   I got to the middle of the last week and had succumbed myself to the fact that the treatment hadn’t worked, I felt exactly how I would at the beginning of my cycle, cramps, emotional, bloated….just the normal (most ladies can relate!), the forums were pointing me in the direction of failure (I told you they were of no help!)  I was absolutely devastated and felt like I already knew what the test was going to tell us, my friends and family tried so hard to be positive for us but it did nothing to lift our spirits….I think even my husband had resigned himself to the fact that this wasn’t our time, I’d guess mainly down to the fact that I kept telling him it hadn’t worked (it’s my body of course I know the signs?!).

Literally cannot stop googling every little niggle, pain etc!! I'm driving myself insane, someone stop me!!! 😣This 2ww is killing me! 😢 #ivfjourney #ivfstory #ivfuk #ttccommunity #2ww #squidlet

Sorry I've been so quiet on here. After having the transfer on Monday last week we travelled home the following day and since then I've been trying to keep anything 'baby' out of my mind. The transfer on Monday went better than expected. At 1:20 they transferred 1 high quality blastocyst into my wonderfully fluffy lining ready for it to implant itself, my lining measured at 12mm so this was much better than anticipated (they advise that 8mm is the preferred thickness). The procedure itself was pretty painless (just uncomfortable) and took all of 10 minutes. In order for the nursing team to ensure the blastocyst is transferred correctly they do so by assistance of an ultrasound, it all seemed so surreal watching on the screen as it travelled down the catheter into my womb and then onto its final resting place, emotions ran very high and a lot of tears were shed (for a change!). After the transfer it was a quick go through of the dos and dont's during the recovery time. We had also been given an update on how our other embabies were doing, unfortunately we had lost a further 2 during the transition from day 3 to day 5 embryo which left us with a potential 2 after the transfer, unfortunately these 2 were also lagging behind so they were going to see if they could push them to day 6 for improvement and if they were happy we could then put these in storage should we need them. That was us done, we were out the clinic and officially PUPO, I was petrified and still am now! Tuesday brought some happy news that our 2 laggers had made it to day 6 and had been put into storage which was fantastic, at least we know if this round isn't successful we've got another 2 attempts and even if this round does work again we've potentially got another 2 chances of pregnancy. No we are home we're both trying to settle back into reality (and normality), trying to keep our wandering minds busy until we know the outcome. It's going to be a long wait but fingers crossed it will all be worth it when we have our baby squidlet! The support and love we have received during this process has been absolutely overwhelming and we have been blown away by it all. It has most definitely helped us through some very dark times. I'm going to be quiet on here for a little while as whatever the outcome we will want to deal with it and absorb it before sharing it with you all, we won't leave you hanging for too long and hopefully it will be the positive news we are all hoping for. 🙏🏻😘💕