The Gamble Baby

By Rachel Connolly
I knew I wanted to be
a mother when I was
22. That was back in
2014. Even though I
was young, especially
to start a family, I had
a strong gut feeling
that it was going to be
hard to get pregnant.
My instincts told me
that it was better to
start earlier rather
than later. At that
point, I had been in a
relationship with my
partner Andrew for two
years. I knew that I
were to have kids, it would be with him. I shared my potential infertility
concerns with him and asked him if he wanted to start trying for a baby
now. He told me that he wasn’t ready yet, which I respected, so instead we
stuck a deal. I suggested that if we were together for 5 years, could we start
trying for a baby? He agreed so on our fifth-year anniversary, in October
2017 we started trying.

***Three Years Later ***

A month before our anniversary in 2017, I was so excited to have a baby

with Andrew that I asked him if we could start trying just a little bit earlier.
He said no, but only because he had planned a little get away for us in Coffs
Harbour. He wanted it to be special. We called it our “baby making holiday”.
By this point I had been off the birth control pill for a while. I hadn’t gotten
pregnant in that time, but I figured it was because we hadn’t really been
trying. Even still, my infertility instincts that had been lying dormant were
starting to rear up. I tried to put them at bay while Andrew and I went on
our baby making holiday.
It was perfect timing. I was
pretty sure I was ovulating
during that holiday and two
weeks later I was feeling
bloated and heavy and I had
a sharp pain in my uterus. I
thought that maybe the baby
making holiday had worked
and I was pregnant! It was
the 28th day of my cycle and I
should have gotten my
period, so I did a pregnancy
test –
There was only one blue line.
the results were negative I
was confused but I figured
that maybe I had been wrong
about when I was ovulating.
Maybe it wasn’t during our
holiday.
A month later, I still wasn’t pregnant.
Andrew and I had been having sex almost every day and definitely every day
around the time when I was ovulating, so I decided to do some research
about conception.
I leant that there was a very short 12-24-hour window of opportunity for an
egg to be fertilised. It was such a brief period of time! I also learnt that
sperm could live inside a woman for up to five days so with the amount of
sex Andrew and I were having, it seemed impossible that his sperm hadn’t
met my egg.
We were really enjoying the process and I was sure that I had to be pregnant
this month. I did a pregnancy test and eagerly waited for the results. One
blue line appeared, that was a good sign… then no second blue line. Nope, I
still wasn’t pregnant.
It was December now. We had been trying for two months with no success.
My concerns became more realised and was quickly turning into anxiety.
I couldn’t get the thought of infertility out of my mind when serendipitously,
I came across a Chinese medicine shop that was selling herbal remedies. I
saw they had a poster saying that they could help with conception. I
thought, it couldn’t hurt to give it a go, so I walked into the shop.
I felt a bit embarrassed and quite
vulnerable as it was going to be the
first time, I told someone about my
struggles to become pregnant. I
walked up to the counter and told
the lady who worked there about
my difficulties. She assured me,
telling me that it was normal, and
she made me feel really comfortable.
I’m deaf so we conversed by writing
down on a piece of paper and I liked
that English was her second
language too. She noted that my
tongue was dry and told me that I
needed to drink more water. She said something to a man who also worked
in the shop and he proceeded to make some sort of concoction for me in the
lab they had out the back. Meanwhile, the woman felt the pulse in my wrist
and commented that I had low blood pressure. She then felt my hands and
they were cold. She asked if my body was hot or cold. It was summer so my
body was hot, but I told her that I always had cold hands. She explained to
me that wasn’t normal. I was a bit taken aback. She was pointing out all
these things that seemed to be abnormal about me. I had no idea my tongue
was dry or that I had low blood pressure which explained why my hands
were always cold. The woman then started asking me about my diet and my
menstrual cycle and when my period would start. She gave me a special
Chinese fertility tea and suggested that I should drinking this every day for a
few months and if I’m still not pregnant then I should see a doctor or a
surgeon for further testing. I decided to only buy enough tea for one month.
It was very expensive and cost me $300. I thought it was worth it to have a
baby, so I bought the tea.
It tasted awful! It was so gross. It tasted like mud and the texture over my
tongue was like soil. I drank the foul, muddy, baby making tea every day
and by the 28th day I hadn’t gotten my period! Maybe the tea had worked!
Excitedly, I did another pregnancy test. Still only one blue line. Negative.
I still wasn’t pregnant.
 It was now January 2018. After months of trying and
failing to get pregnant even with the Chinese tea, I was
almost at my limit. I decided to go to the doctor to get a
referral for IVF. My sister had done IVF so I thought I
would do the same. I told the doctor that I had been
trying for four months and he said to keep trying for
another six months and if I still wasn’t pregnant then he
would refer me to an IVF specialist.
That night I was tossing and turning. The stress of not
being able to get pregnant was starting impact my
mental health. I was feeling depressed and I was anxious
all the time. I decided to go back to the doctor the next day and I told him
that I wanted to do IVF now. I couldn’t wait for six months. My sister had
been trying for years and I didn’t want to go through what she went
through. Not being pregnant was already having a negative impact on my life
so I needed to do this now. My doctor agreed and he gave me a referral for
IVF Australia in Westmead. I told him that I wanted to see Dr Seema
Mohiuddin. Unfortunately, because of scheduling problems and
appointment cancellations, I didn’t get to see her that month. When I was
finally able to see her, I explained everything that I had gone through since
October. She suggested that I get an ultrasound.
The results showed that I had Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome, PCOS, on my
right ovary. The left one was fine. She explained to me that I could possibly
get pregnant when my left ovary released and egg but not when the right
ovary released an egg. I was slightly relived. I thought that if I hadn’t gotten
pregnant thus far, that meant both my ovaries were the problem, it was a
comfort to know that at least one ovary was healthy
I took the results back to Dr Seema and she prescribed me a medication
called Apo-Letrozole, a medication that makes sure your ovary produces an
egg. It was another $300 but, like the Chinese tea, it would be worth the
cost, so I took the medication every day for that cycle and finally, 28 days
later.
I did another pregnancy test. One blue line, that was promising…no second
line. Negative. I was so pissed off. I threw my hands in the air and chucked
the pregnancy test out. This was bullshit. I was over it. But a week later I
still hadn’t gotten my period. I felt like something wasn’t quite right. A week
later my period arrived but I still felt uneasy about it. I fished out the old
pregnancy test from two weeks before. There was a faint second blue line.
Did that mean it was positive and I hadn’t realised? But it didn’t make sense
because I had my period now. It was late, but it had arrived. I then realised
that I must have had a very early miscarriage called a chemical pregnancy.
The egg had been fertilised but became inviable shortly after conception. I
was pregnant without realising. I was devastated. I suspected that the egg
that had been fertilised must have come from my right, PCOS, ovary. It
meant I had to go back to IVF Australia.
It was now March and I had been trying for five months. I went to see Dr
Seema again, distraught that I still wasn’t pregnant. Her next suggestion
was for me to get a clean-up of my fallopian tubes. We knew I had PCOS in
my right ovary, but because the other one of fine, my doctor thought that
there might be a blockage in the fallopian tube which is stopping an egg
from being fertilised. The procedure is called a HyCoSy ( hysterosalpingo-
contrast sonography). It’s a procedure where they inject a fluid into your
fallopian tubes to see if there are any blockages. The woman who was doing
the procedure introduced herself and described what would happen. She
warned me that it might be a “little bit uncomfortable”. I thought, that’s fine,
I don’t mind a little discomfort. But as soon as the fluid was injected, I
realised that “a little bit uncomfortable” was an understatement. Instantly
my abdomen cramped up like it was being wrung out like a wet rag. My
body felt like it was under attack. I was screaming out in pain. Let me tell
you, this cramping was even worse than contractions!
Thankfully, there were no blockages or stickiness in my tubes. The results
said everything was alright and the fluid could flow freely through my
fallopian tubes. It also stated that I didn’t have any significant detection of
abnormalities in my endometrial cavity. This was a relief. I was glad they
didn’t find anything peculiar. The results also backed up the findings from
the ultrasound that I had a few months ago confirming that I had PCOS in
my right ovary but not my left. The procedure was $500. This was quickly
becoming very expensive.

I went back to see Dr Seema, no closer to working out why I wasn’t getting
pregnant. She suggested I get some blood tests done. I agreed and they took
out six vials worth of blood. It was so much blood that when I stood up, I
was woozy and my vision tunnelled then I fainted. Luckily, my interpreter
was there to catch me! She saved my head from bashing against the table!
The nurse hadn’t seen what happened and she turned around to find that I
was slumped in my interpreter’s arms. She was so shocked!
 All the results came back normal. My FBC, full blood count, came back
normal. There were no antibodies indicating that I had any venereal
diseases, meaning, I had no sexually transmitted infections. My thyroid was
fine, and I found out my blood type was O+. The only thing somewhat
abnormal was I had slightly low rubella antibodies meaning that I needed to
get a vaccination but other than that everything was fine.
After all these tests were coming back negative and it seemed that I should
be able to get pregnant. I thought that it could possibly be Andrew, so I
asked him to get his sperm tested. He was fine with it, but he felt very
uncomfortable having to ejaculate into a cup in a medical office. He
preferred to go home to make his deposit. The sample had to be tested
within 20 minutes, so we rushed with our fresh pot of sperm to Westmead
clinic and then waited at home for the results. It turns out my partner has
perfect sperm.
So, it was me. I was the problem. With all the tests coming back negative,
6 besides one PCOS ovary, it seemed impossible that I wasn’t able to conceive.
Andrew had healthy sperm so why wasn’t it happening? I decided that it
might not be because of physiology. Maybe it was the stress of trying to get
pregnant that was preventing it from happening. Even though we had only
been trying for half a year, it had been since I was 22 that I wanted to be a
mother. I knew conceiving was going to be difficult, but I wasn’t prepared for
this.
I decided to take my mind off it for a while. I’ve heard that people who stop
thinking so much about getting pregnant and go back to their normal lives
have a miracle surprise baby. So that’s what I did. I stopped worrying so
much about my diet and allowed myself to have fun and go out and party
and do fun things like drinking and smoking hookah and doing heavy
strength training workouts at the gym. But every month I still got my period.
Still not pregnant. It was frustrating beyond belief.
With no miracle baby, I decided to go back to IVF Australia in April 2018.
They told me that a round of IVF was going to cost $5000. That was so
expensive! I decided to transfer over to a clinic in Liverpool called The
Fertility Centre. They were much cheaper and could do a round of IVF for
$1500, the only catch was that they didn’t do the procedure under
anaesthetic. I was going to be awake through the procedure. They could give
me gas and pain killers to ease the discomfort during the egg collection, but
it wasn’t allowed to move at all.
I started the IVF process on the 13th of April 2018. I bought an IVF pack
worth $1500. I went home with my esky filled with the IVF injections. The
plan was, I was to wait two weeks for my period to start. I would then call
the clinic and let them know and they would give me the okay to start the
injections. I am terrified of needles and the thought of having to give myself
injections made my blood turn cold. But weirdly, my mum was excited to
inject me so I called upon her and Andrew to administer the injections when
the time came.
I had to wait about two weeks until I got my period and then I had to call the
clinic to let them know and they would give me the all clear start the
injections. My mother was so excited to inject me. I was scared. It was a lot
of needles and I knew I wouldn’t be able to inject myself.
Just as I started my pre-IVF course of injections there was an interruption.
An evil sebaceous cyst on my appeared on my upper inner thigh. It was
sitting right where my legs touch as I walk. It was incredibly painful, and it
was monstrous. It was two and a half centimetres long and a centimetre and
a half wide and it was angry. So, me and my evil cyst went to the doctor.
They advised that I don’t start the IVF injections until I could go to hospital
to get the cyst removed, but unfortunately the waiting list was long so that it
might take a while. I was as angry as my cyst was. Andrew and I had been
trying for so long and couldn’t wait any longer. I was in disbelief that a cyst
would be the reason we had to delay even further.
I decided to call the IVF Australia clinic and ask Dr Seema what to do. She
said she could remove the cyst for me today. She was happy to pop it, but
because it wasn’t being removed in its entirety, there would be a risk of it
returning. Like pulling out a weed without getting all the roots. My wanting
to get pregnant was more than risking the return of the evil cyst so I drove
over to the clinic to see Dr Seema that same day. With a quick nick of the
scalpel, and a lot of puss and squeezing, the evil cyst had been
vanquished…for now, and I was ready to start my IVF injections the next
cycle.
In preparation for IVF, I had cut out fast food and soft drink from my diet. I
stopped doing tough workouts at the gym and stopped smoking hookah.
Even though I was prepared physically for IVF, mentally I was not. I was
extremely apprehensive about going through the process. Not because I was
scared of pain, but because I didn’t know if I could handle it if IVF didn’t
work. I couldn’t look failure in the face and accept defeat. My sister had
gone through IVF and I looked up to her as a role model. If she could be
strong and do it, then so could I. I would pray, pleading for a baby to be safe
and grow inside me. I prayed for my body to not be lazy or pull any tricks on
me.
It was now May 1st and the day my period was meant to arrive. The plan was
to use the Gonal-F Pen, an injectable medication that encourages the
maturation of an egg and induce ovulation. I had to inject 150mL over the
course or five days and then continue the Pen for another five days
alongside a drug called Orgalutran which stopped the body from releasing
the egg too soon so they weren’t harvesting immature eggs. The F pen was a
simple small needle, administered like an EPI-Pen but the Orgalutran had a
massive, thick needle. After the course was finished, I was to go to the clinic
and if all was well, they would give me a trigger shot, an injection containing
a hormone called Human Chorionic Gonadotropin HCG, designed to get my
eggs ready for collection. It’s really interesting how it all works.
With my plan in motion, all that was left was my period to start, but she
never arrived. She was due on the 1st of May and it was now the 3rd. I
thought I might as well do a pregnancy test. As usual, the first blue line
showed. I waited for the second blue line and it never appeared. I thought
my body was just playing tricks on me. I put the test aside and went to bed.
I was tossing and turning all night. Something didn’t feel right. I was having
hot and cold flushes and I was feeling queasy. I woke up at 5am feeling
worried and uncomfortable. It was unusual for me to be awake that early as
I’m not an early riser. I tried to put everything out of my mind and go back
to sleep. I got up at 8 in the morning and got dressed for work. I thought I
might as well have a look at the test from the night before
There were two blue lines! I blinked a few times just to make sure it was
real, and lo and behold, there it was, two beautiful blue lines looking back at
me. I was pregnant!
There aren’t enough
words to describe my
excitement and
amazement to finding
out I was pregnant.
Wow, the 3rd of May
2018, what an
incredible day. I
facetimed Andrew who
was at work and I told
him the amazing news.
He just looked blankly
back at the screen and
then I curious smirk
came over his face.
‘You’re pregnant?’ he
asked me, smiling.
I had gotten pregnant
naturally! I didn’t need
IVF and no scary
needles. We had done
it! I was over the moon. I told all my family and friends the good news. They
were so excited for me. It was so unexpected.
I thought, ‘That little cheeky fucker!’
My baby had waited until the last possible moment to arrive! I returned the
needles to the IVF clinic and they gave a full refund. I went to the doctor and
they confirmed with a blood test that my HCG levels were 114 and that I
was 4 weeks pregnant, due on the 8th January 2019. I realised that my
mother’s birthday was on the 7th and my sister, who was also pregnant was
due on the 6th. This was perfect, we would have three birthdays in a row. It
was meant to be.
Pregnancy was weird to say the least. I was getting hot and cold flushes, I
was tired all the time, my emotions were fluctuating constantly, and my
breasts were so sore! I was hungry and bloated all the time and suddenly
had strong cravings for meatballs. But it was so worth it. I couldn’t stop
smiling. My first ultrasound was going to be on the 18th of May, and I
couldn’t wait.
I was counting down the days until I could get the first glimpse of my baby.
My anticipation made time feel like it was slowing down.
It was the morning of the day before my ultrasound and I woke up to find
spotting. I was shocked and distraught. I knew that spotting could
potentially be bad, so I ran crying to my mum who took me straight away to
Westmead hospital with Andrew and my dad.
When I told the doctor what was happening, they moved my ultrasound
appointment from tomorrow up to today. I knew that spotting in week 3 and
4 was normal but I was over 6 weeks pregnant.
I was unbelievably anxious. They performed the ultrasound but there was
nothing there. Just a black hole on the monitor where my baby should be.
No heartbeat, just an empty sack. Before I really started to panic, they
explained to me that they may have estimated date of conception incorrectly.
I may only be at 4 weeks now. They did a blood test just to be sure. The
HCG blood test results showed my levels were at 535. It was still
inconclusive, so they sent me back home to
see how I feel and to come back in two
weeks. But I could feel inside that it was a
miscarriage. I just knew. My HCG levels
should not have doubled in two weeks, but
the nurse seemed confident in her decision
to send me home so not all hope was lost.
The bleeding continued worse than before.
The pain was extraordinary, and my
menstrual blood had clots in it. I had
migraines and it felt like the worst period
I’ve ever had. I was in bed screaming from
the pain. My mum saw what a state I was in
and drove me to the hospital where they
confirmed that I had a miscarriage.
Two weeks later, my sister had a miscarriage
too.
I guess it wasn’t meant to be.
 We fast forward in the
story to the 7th of
September 2018. Since
my miscarriage, my
periods had become
painful and infrequent.
They used to be right on
schedule on a 28-day
cycle and now they were
either very heavy or very
light and always painful.
I had put IVF on hold to
give my body a chance
to recover and my mind
a chance to grieve. I decided to focus my energy on working out why I still
wasn’t able to get pregnant or carry a baby to full term. I understood that
my PCOS meant that and egg was only produced out of that ovary once in a
blue moon, but it didn’t explain why when an egg had been fertilised, it then
miscarried.
The best course of action was to see a Gynaecologist to see if there was
anything else wrong in my reproductive system. My GP referred me to one
doctor who recommended that I check my temperature every day with a
thermometer under my armpit to see when there was a spike in my body
temperature over 37 degrees. The doctor explained to me that the spike in
my temperature meant that it was the perfect time to conceive. I’m sure he’s
not wrong, but I had now been trying for a long time with multiple fertility
treatments, medications, gross herbal tea and had, had two miscarriages.
Also, Andrew and I had been trying every day to have a baby. I’m sure we
would have had sex during my peak body temperature at least a few times
with no success.
I decided to see another Gynaecologist called Dr Harry Merkur. I felt more
confident with this doctor. I explained to him my story and he suggested
that maybe I have endometriosis, a condition with causes uterine cells to
grow in abnormal places making periods painful and fertility difficult.
Dr Harry also treated my sister and had discovered that she too has
endometriosis stage 4. He explained to me that there were no blood tests or
anything like that to confirm. The only way to do it was to have a surgery
that allowed the doctor and have a look around. If endometriosis was
confirmed, he would also be able clean out the abnormal cells in the same
procedure. His assessment of my situation made sense to me, so I agreed to
do an endometrial laparoscopy. The catch was, it was going to be a six to
nine month wait for the procedure because of the long waiting list. Another
delay! I told Dr Harry that I wasn’t going to wait that long. I had waited long
enough. He explained that it could be done in a private hospital for $12,000
or free if I waited. $12,000 was a lot of money. I decided to wait the six to
nine months. I would use this time to get pregnancy out of my brain. I could
party and socialise and allow myself to not worry about making a baby.
But did I stop worrying? Nope.
Instead I got “baby fever”. I would get angry and jealous if I saw mothers
with their babies. I would see their success as my failure and I was
becoming depressed, angry and resentful. I thought about adoption and
tried to make peace with the fact that maybe I could never have a baby. On
top of all that, sex was becoming depressing. It was feeling like work. I also
felt like my life was on hold. I couldn’t plan for the future because my future
seemed to be in the hands of doctors now. I wanted to go to university but
what if I got pregnant? Should I just say fuck it and do it anyway? Or was it
best to start working this all out after the laparoscopy results? Not knowing
if being a mother was every going to happen was putting a massive strain on
my mental health.
Five long months later on
the 25th February 2019 I
was booked in for surgery.
Finally, something to get
excited about. The
endometrial laparoscopy
was performed by creating
five small holes in my
abdomen, arranged like the
dots on a dice with the
middle being in my belly
button. The doctor would
probe in those holes with
small cameras and
instruments, looking for
anything that was evil and
preventing conception. I
found out that I had stage 2
endometriosis. They found
uterine cells on my bladder, rectum, fallopian tubes and on my cervix,
which explained why I wasn’t getting pregnant.
When the endometrial cells were removed, my period changed drastically.
Before I had angry, dark, painful periods. Now they were very happy little
four-day, regular periods. Just showed up on time and left on time. Usually
I had a bit of warning before my period started. I would be bloated or get
cramps. Now it just showed up. And even better news, Dr Harry said that
there should be nothing stopping me from getting pregnant. So, in six weeks
when I’ve healed from the surgery I can start trying again.
Just as I was ready to start trying again there was another hiccup. My evil
cyst had returned with a vengeance. It’s like that little bastard knew I was
ready to start trying again and popped up to have front row seats. My VIP,
Very Irritating Pustule, was in the same spot as before, just like Dr Seema
had warned me. I called Dr Harry in tears. He told me he was able to fully
remove it so it would never be able to come back. Amazing! I could vanquish
my foe once and for all! But the waiting list was going to be nine months, or
I could pay $3000 and get it done immediately. I wasn’t waiting any more. I
paid the $3000 and went to Northmead Private Hospital. That next week on
the 5th of April my cyst was removed, roots and all. It was also the perfect
timing. My period was going to start the week after. The cycle that followed
was going to be when Andrew and I would start trying for a baby again. But
I didn’t get pregnant. It didn’t happen that cycle nor the cycle after that.
It had now been a year since my miscarriage, and I was still feeling
incredibly depressed. I had been through surgery and countless needles and
blood tests. It felt like my body was letting me down and my brain was
teasing me. I was still having baby fever and feeling resentful at innocent
strangers who were able to have kids and then to top it all off, I had a
urinary tract infection and a thrush infection, delaying the process even
further. I also discovered that I now had PCOS in both my ovaries to put the
icing on the very unfortunate cake. It felt like the aftermath of my
endometriosis surgery had cleared that hurdle, but it seemed to make
everything else worse. It felt like my reproductive organs had become fragile
and more easily susceptible to infection. Maybe 2019 wasn’t my year to get
pregnant.

I was sick and tired of going to doctors and getting needles and countless
tests. I didn’t want to have IVF. I was fed up. I was at my breaking point. It
felt like I had spent so much money for nothing. It was such bullshit. I
couldn’t stand seeing only one blue line on a pregnancy test and I didn’t
want to see the word “negative” ever again. I decided it was time to go on a
holiday. It turned out to be exactly what I needed.
 I came home feeling a lot
better and my mental
health had improved.
Two weeks later I was
ready again. I decided to
get a form of
acupuncture that put
suction cups on your
back increasing blood
flow around your body,
improving circulation. I
had heard that it was
beneficial for fertility. I
felt strong enough to
start my first round of
IVF. My Mother and I picked up a new IVF kit ready for my next cycle.
I called the clinic on May 31st letting them know that I started my period. It
was the same schedule as we had planned before. I was to be injected with
the scary needles by mum or Andrew. I was very fussy with how they were
given to me. I had to look away so I could see what was happening and I had
to ice the area until it was thoroughly numbed before they could come at me
with the needles.
I had five days of the Gonal-F Pen and then the Orgalutran, alongside the
Pen for another five days. Then I went for a blood test and an ultrasound
and they told me I had 30 eggs ready for IVF! Also, the ultrasound
technician said I had a beautiful uterus. It was such a lovely compliment.
That afternoon I was ready for my trigger shot. It had been all good news so
far. But that changed when I received my results of the blood test. They said
my hormone levels were too high. My levels were at 1750. I was at risk for a
condition called OHSS Ovarian Hyperstimulation Syndrome. Your ovaries
become swollen and painful and it usually happens to woman who are
taking injectable hormones like I was. Everything was cancelled. I asked
them what would happen to my eggs and they told me they would just pass
through my system like normal. I had wasted $1500 and thirty eggs just
because my estrogen levels were high and was still no closer to getting
pregnant.
It was now July and I was about to start round two of IVF. The F Pen they
gave me had a lower dosage. Previously it was 150mL, it was now 75mL.
They reduced the amount to hopefully lower my risk of getting OHSS. It was
the same procedure again, call the clinic on the first day of my period, then
five days of the F-Pen and then another five days in conjunction with the
Orgalutran. On the Friday, after ten days of injections, I had a blood test
and they told me my hormone levels were at a safe level and the ultrasound
showed that my ovaries had produced thirteen eggs but they weren’t mature
enough and therefore, not yet viable for collection. They decided that I was
to wait a few days and come back on Monday.
The ultrasound on Monday showed that twelve out of the thirteen eggs were
gone but there was one lovely mature egg still left. They told me they could
still do the collection with only one egg. They explained to me that woman
have gotten pregnant with only one egg. It did feel very risky with only one,
but I wanted to be in a positive mindset. I agreed to go ahead with the
collection procedure, and they booked me in for that Thursday. They gave
me my trigger shot and I went back to the clinic on Thursday for the
collection procedure. I woke up on Thursday in great spirits. I went to the
clinic and they decided to do an ultrasound just in case. But alas, no egg. It
has disappeared.
I started my third round
of IVF in August. The first
round in June, had failed
because, despite having
30 beautiful mature eggs,
my high levels of estrogen
put me at risk for OHSS.
My second round, in
July, had failed because
all my thirteen eggs had
disappeared. Non-IVF
methods like apo-
letrozole medication
failed, the fertility tea
didn’t work. Getting my
tubes flushed was a waste of time and my endo surgery, even though it
helped regulate my cycle, those positive effects and relief seemed to diminish
after a few months and my angry periods were back. My evil cyst had taken
away precious month of trying and I had wasted rounds upon rounds of
injections and my PCOS was incurable and ever looming over my mission to
becoming a mother. By the time I was on to round three of IVF I was praying
every day. Pleading that it would work. Pleading for my body to not let me
down again. I couldn’t take the pain of this loss anymore. I was sick of
battling with my brain. I desperately wanted this round to be my last round.
Before I started my third round, I went to visit Dr Seema at The Fertility
Centre in Liverpool. She said that the Gonal-F Pen was not right for me and
suggested that I use the Puregon Pen instead. It’s for woman who either
aren’t producing eggs or haven’t responded to other fertility drugs. She gave
me the new Pens along with a nasal spray designed to stop the body from
producing female hormones and allowing other medications to take over
hormonal control. This had some unfortunate side effects. I developed
vaginal thrush and a dry throat. I was having mood swings and my brain
was foggy. Also, my boobs shrunk incredibly. They were tiny. I had become
an A cup. Andrew joked that because I was so flat chested, we now looked
the same.
I did a ten-day course of the new injectable and my nasal spray and then I
went for an ultrasound. They told me that my left ovary had produced eleven
eggs and my right had ten which was a great result. My blood test results
showed that I had good levels of hormones and I was ready for my trigger
shot to release the eggs for collection.
I didn’t want to get my hopes up. I made sure that I was level-headed in the
days that followed until I went to hospital for my egg collection. This was the
furthest that I had gotten to in my IVF journey and I didn’t want to get too
excited just in case it failed.
On the Thursday I arrived at the hospital. I
was dressed in a hospital gown albeit naked
underneath. Andrew went way to have his
fun time depositing sperm into a cup. They
gave me Valium to ease the discomfort and
help me stay still during the collection. They
also gave me a mouthpiece connected to
tank containing nitrous oxide and oxygen.
It’s a happy gas that is often used for
mothers in labour. I inhaled so much gas. At
this point, it was the only thing that would
make bad news bearable. The doctor and
nurse arrived to do the final ultrasound.
Hurray! I had viable eggs for collection!

They held out a needle and pushed it through my vaginal wall, passed my
cervix and into my left ovary where they could access the mature eggs. I had
been inhaling so deeply on the gas that I couldn’t feel anything. I was so
high. I wasn’t allowed to move but I could see the monitor from the corner of
my eye. They had reached my mature eggs. As they suctioned one egg there
was a beep from the monitor and the nurse excitedly told me they had one
egg. Then another, and another! All up, they collected ten beautiful eggs
from one side! I was trying to stay calm and zen and block my mind from
what was happening. It didn’t hurt but it was an annoying, uncomfortable
feeling and I know that if I started to concentrate on it and visualised what
they were doing, it would become much worse. It was very invasive. There
were more in there, but they looked small and not mature enough. They
went into my right ovary and collected only two. It was starting to really
hurt, and I could feel that I had reached my limit. Twelve eggs were enough.
The doctor said he was able to collect the eight more, but I had had enough.
Twelve eggs!
Wow. It was incredible. I was finally proud of my body. I went home, trying
not to get too excited. The doctor would let me know in the next day whether
they were fertilised or not.
Twenty-four hours later, on Friday the 2nd of September, the doctor called
me to tell me that all twelve had been fertilised!
They warned me previously that maybe only half would be fertilised, but
Andrew’s Olympic swimming sperm must have been really determined! I
burst into tears. It was such incredible news. I tried to compose myself
because I wasn’t pregnant yet, but this was the closest I’d been so far.
The clinic said they would call me on Monday to see how many had survived
the weekend. They called me at 2pm, telling me that five blastocysts had
survived! Meaning that the fertilised egg had grown to developing 100-150
cells and was ready to be implanted into my uterine wall. The plan was that
I was going to go into the clinic the next day, Tuesday, and they were
implant me with one blastocyst and leave the other four on ice. When they
implanted the first one, they told me that overnight, one of the remaining
seven they thought hadn’t survived had become a viable blastocyst, meaning
that I still had five remaining. The other six remaining had definitely died.
But I still had five possible children in a little tube on ice.

Baby 1 in womb Baby 4

Baby 2 Baby 5

Baby 3 Delay Baby 6

It was going to be a two week wait to confirm if I was pregnant or not, but it
was the most peaceful weeks I had had in years. I knew that there were five
other potential chances to have a baby and I could finally have a break from
thinking about it. I also didn’t have to worry about trying for a baby. Andrew
and I could finally relax and spend some good quality time together without
the thoughts of a baby looming over our relationship. No more injections. No
more mood swings. No more counting the days in my cycle. Just peace.
Two weeks later on the 9th of September, I went in for a blood test to confirm
if I was pregnant or not. They told me that my HCG levels were at 1133 and
they said ‘Congratulations, you are very pregnant!’ I couldn’t control the
flood of happy tears. It had finally worked! I was pregnant! I was unable to
contain my excitement. The fear of miscarrying was still in the back of my
mind. But this fear felt different, it was mixed with hope. I told Andrew the
news as well as my family and friends.
I saw my baby’s heart beat at six weeks and then on the 8th of May 2020, I
met my baby daughter Skylar-Rose Segecic.
 I hope my story inspires all woman who want to become mothers.
The journey of parenthood starts well before conception and it can often be a
very exhaustive and challenging road ahead, both physically and mentally.
For me, starting young and listening to my body is what made it finally
happen for me. I know that all woman goes through their own journeys so I
hope that my story connects with all who read it in some way.

You are strong. You are resilient. You are not alone.