When I became a writer, I never imagined I would pen this story. I come from a long line of proud fertile women (cough, cough, eye roll), a fun fact my mother loves to pull out at dinner parties. She had four children, her mother had four children, and my great-grandmother had eight, and it goes on and on like that.
But this story isn’t about them.
It’s about me and my husband’s journey to parenthood. It’s been a bumpy road that’s had many ups and many downs. Infertility feels like a swift kick in the guts on the worst of days, and the rest of the time, it’s a lingering sense of fear, guilt, anxiety and sadness. But on the good days, there is so much hope.
Let’s make a baby
It’s been 24 cycles since I stopped taking the pill. After 16 years on and off again, I was elated when my period returned as normal almost straight away. Aunt Flow has diligently arrived at 28 days (give or take a day) every month for the past two years.
Coronavirus had just shut down the country, and there was no time like the present to start making a baby - we were newlyweds in lockdown, honeymooning in our brand new home, why not?
After three months of trying to conceive (TTC) turned into 11 months, compounded by Covid-19 lockdowns and a stressful corporate banking job, we decided to seek help. The wave of sadness that came with every period had become unbearable. Not to mention the countless family members and friends asking the dreaded “when are you going to have a baby?”
To say that we were naive is an understatement. Having now consumed countless books, podcasts and streams of content online, I realise I knew nothing about fertility, my cycle or my body. My Catholic education hadn’t adequately prepared me for becoming a woman.
Big surprise there, right?
It left me wondering why the f*$k I was only just learning how my body works at the ripe age of 34 years old. I can tell you this, no daughter of mine will walk into the world unarmed with this knowledge of womanhood.
Tests, tests and more tests
My doctor, the same one I’ve seen since I was a baby, sent me off for blood tests. My AMH count was high, indicating PCO, so my doctor referred me to a fertility specialist.
An ultrasound and Hycosy (more on this test another time, but that sh*t is f*%ked) confirmed the PCO diagnosis, but it was unlikely this was the cause of my fertility woes. More alarming was the band of tissue spanning my uterus wall, possibly preventing implantation from taking place. A quick day surgery solved that pesky piece of excess tissue, and we were back to TTC.
Around the same time as all this, I read Period Repair Manual (a must-read for every woman), a guide to your cycle and what the pill does to your body. It’s a strange feeling when you realise you know very little about what makes your own body tick.
Ding. Lightbulb moment.
It would seem my never-tardy period was not so perfect after all. Every month, I had spot bleeding for the week leading up to my period, a very light flow that only lasted 2-3 days, and I suffered from PMS, all things I thought were normal but indicated I had a hormonal imbalance.
To improve my hormones and regulate my cycle, I started seeing a fertility nutritionist and Chinese Medicine Practitioner. I overhauled my diet, started taking a concoction of herbs and had regular acupuncture. Within three months, my cycle was as perfect as it could be. Not only could I feel the results, but I also had 15 months of cycle data in the Clue app as proof of the change.
Oh, and I forgot to mention, I also quit my corporate banking job. This gave me time to focus on setting up a freelance business that would better suit my lifestyle. Probably one of the best decisions that have come out of my whole journey.
Tackling the mental challenges
When yet another Covid-19 lockdown rolled around, we decided to take a couple of months break from TTC and focus on our relationship, which was starting to suffer from the constant ebbs and flows of infertility.
Every baby, family or pregnancy announcement that flooded my Instagram feed would set me off. And I took it out on the one person I was physically allowed to see (because f%*king Covid), my husband.
Dedicating time to getting our relationship back on track was the second best decision to come out of our journey. With the help of our therapist, we were equipped with new coping mechanisms and the tools we needed to support each other through the next phase of our journey.
Meeting our IVF doctor
Aside from the PCO diagnosis and that little strip of unwanted tissue hiding in my uterus, every single test my husband and I have done came back normal. From blood tests to ultrasounds to sperm tests (yes, my husband's got great swimmers) to genetic screening, we’ve done them all.
The diagnosis: unexplained infertility.
Talk about the most frustrating diagnoses EVER. You can’t fix something unexplained, can you? Our only path forward is to continue TTC naturally or start IVF, something I’ve worked so hard to avoid. But every medical step forward is more data, another piece in the fertility puzzle which could uncover an explanation. And give us the baby we so badly want.
My fertility journey has been transformative in more ways than one. I can honestly say that today I’m the most stable I have been in a long time. That’s not to say I don’t have bad days. I do. But I also have a loving and supportive husband who will make a fantastic dad. My copywriting business is thriving, and I’m feeling really optimistic about the next phase of our journey, IVF.
We start IVF in March 2022 (26 cycles since I went off the pill), and I want nothing more than for us to kick infertility in the d*ck.
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thanks for starting this space. we dont talk about our bodies enough and what they go through is nothing short of amazing. like you
You got this Sis 💪🏼 Love you!