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Fertility Treatment Begins

A blog by Jane Newman, December 24, 2014

Infertility was all new to me. I had to become educated in an area I knew and understood little about. Looking back I feel almost foolish and naïve that I thought I would just have to take medication and I’d get pregnant. I suppose that’s all some people have to do though. If only it would have been that straightforward.

A friend of mine recommended a consultant she had used, so I decided to make an appointment with him. Going through my medical history once again, I sat before him answering a multitude of personal but necessary questions. Although you get used to doing this, it doesn’t become any easier or less depressing with frequency.

To get a clearer picture of my situation, numerous procedures were carried out. I got used to these too, but every time I found them equally uncomfortable, invasive and often painful. The night before I knew I was having one my sleep was unsettled and erratic. Of course, finding it hard to relax makes the job of the consultant harder, but trying to relax is much easier said than done. But my determination to try and get out happy ending, to complete our family kept me going. I’d lie back with my eyes closed and think about my beautiful, special daughter. Those thoughts kept me going, kept me sane, kept me strong.

It didn’t take long for this consultant to discover where the problems were lying. Not only did I have polycystic ovaries, but I had very bad adhesions of the uterus. In other words after an emergency C-section to deliver my daughter, I had been left with a very badly scarred uterus. The bombshell was dropped. I may not be able to have any more children. The only way of having any chance to do so was to have further, more invasive procedures. Even then, this was no guarantee that I would be able to carry a baby ever again.

I sat there feeling sick. From a young age I’d loved children. Had always known I wanted a family of my own one day. As a qualified teacher, I work with them too. Yes, I have one and am blessed to have her. She is my happy result form an awful operation which had left me in the horrendous situation I found myself in.

Having been dealt this blow and given the shocking news, I was also told that before we started IVF I’d have to wait six months for my body to heal. Of course the sensible voice in my head said that I must listen to the expert and wait until I can give it my all, for my body to be in the best possible state. Yet there was the impatient part too. We had waited so long already, it seemed cruel and unfair to have to wait even longer, when all around me I felt like friends were going on to have their second. When I was out walking in the street, doing my shopping, I seemed to see pregnant people everywhere.

How was I going to get through these next six months? I knew that a huge help would be my daughter, my reminder that I still had a lot to be grateful for. That I had to take a deep breath and get on with my daily life for her. Of course it was tough, there were many bad days, when I cried once I’d take her to nursery, cancelled arrangements with friends because I couldn’t face seeing anyone. But I got through it, and the first round of IVF began.


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