Guest Blogs, IVF, Life of a Mum

Infertility following miscarriage, a guest blog

Thanks to lovely Lausanne for sharing her experiences of fertility issues in this blog……

Where do I start? How about right back in 2000.

I had been seeing my now husband for 6 months when we found out I was pregnant. I was 29 and he was 30. We were both in shock but neither of us were getting any younger so we knew it was what we wanted and were looking forward to the arrival of our baby in late spring 2001.

However it was not to be. I started spotting at around 8 weeks and after 2 very long and painful days I miscarried in a hospital toilet in Chislehurst in Kent. We were devastated. I had been having treatment for severe endometriosis when I fell pregnant so the fact I had actually had a positive test seemed like a miracle to me at the time.

I recall in the days following the miscarriage waking each morning only to remember that I was no longer pregnant and being overwhelmed by the crippling disappointment to no longer feel like I was doing the important job of growing a tiny human, because it didn’t matter to me that I was only 8 weeks along my every waking moment was about providing that tiny being with the best possible chance of survival.

I had no idea how common early miscarriage was until it happened to me, and you very rarely find out the reason for why they happen, and much as the medical profession see it as just one of those things it is impossible to not question yourself and was it something you did or didn’t do that caused it.

Fast forward to 2004. We were now married and living in Market Harborough. I had undergone 2 further surgeries for endometriosis.

It was almost like the procedure of having the adhesions removed followed by a treatment of zolodex medication to stop my periods put my body into the best position to get pregnant. So I fell pregnant again in July of that year.

This time round everyone assured me that it would work out for us, they could feel it in their waters or they had a good feeling about it this time. I did too, especially as I had started being sick daily at around the 7 week mark. I was advised that this was a sign of a strong pregnancy so I felt very positive. Until the first week of October literally days before my 12 week scan I started to spot again. I was terrified, why was it happening to me again, this baby was very much wanted and everyone had told me it was going to work this time……

I had to wait 2 days for my scan and I had stopped spotting and was still being sick so I had convinced myself that perhaps it was going to be ok. We had the foresight to take my mother in law with us for the scan because when I heard the question “did we get your dates muddled up” after what seemed like an eternity I knew it was over & I just shut down. I don’t remember a great deal, other than feeling so let down by my body and like I just wanted the world to stop.

My mother in law was wonderful and asked many questions which we couldn’t ask because we were consumed by grief.

Now as many women who have suffered multiple miscarriages know, you have to have suffered 3 miscarriages before they will investigate.To me this is barbaric. How on earth in this day and age is it ok to say it is ok to suffer this devastating, life changing event 3 times before it can be looked in to?

I knew I couldn’t go through the same thing again so we paid for private tests to find out if there was a cause behind the losses.

I can still remember getting a call from the consultant at the time to say they had found an issue involving a mutated gene in my test results which meant I suffered from a blood clotting disorder called Factor V Leiden. In layman’s terms it meant that the blood supply was not getting to the baby in the uterus and I was miscarrying as a result.

In order to prevent this from happening I would need to start taking a low dose of aspirin daily and in the event of any future pregnancies I would need to have daily injections to ensure my blood remained thin to stand any chance of carrying a baby to term. However this never happened because I never again conceived naturally after that miscarriage and after more surgery to deal with the ongoing debilitating disease that is endometriosis at the age of 35 we embarked on the long and arduous journey of IVF.

We soon realised with the extreme number of tests you have to endure with IVF that with a blocked left Fallopian tube and extensive endometriosis scarring and only ovarian tissue on my right hand side it would have been an impossibility to fall pregnant without intervention.

We went into our first long protocol cycle full of hope, I did everything to prepare my body, including giving up red meat, processed foods, alcohol, caffeine, you name it I wanted to make sure I was doing everything to give my body the best possible chance to be able to get pregnant.

At first it all felt like a bit of a novelty doing daily injections & having multiple scans to track my progress. You feel like you are doing the most important job in the world and as such I fell in to the trap that was the belief this is how I would get that very much longed for baby.

You are being bombarded with many statistics at every step of the way so I remember the immense feeling of disappointment at my first egg collection where I only managed to achieve a retrieval of 4 eggs. I was assured that they were good quality eggs but after 3 days only 2 of the embryos were continuing to divide so it was time to undergo the painful procedure that is embryo transfer and both embryos were put back. Then it was time for the two week wait.

I stayed at home, I remained either in bed or on the sofa, hardly daring to move in case I dislodged the embryos inside of me.

It made absolutely no difference to the result which was crippling cramping pains on day 10 of the wait followed by a very heavy period. The slap in the face of it all is that you still have to do a pregnancy test after 2 weeks just to confirm that you aren’t pregnant.

That whole procedure takes around 3 months, a quarter of a year, a whole season. You are advised to take at least a month between cycles to give your body a chance to recover, so cycle 2 is scheduled. Again I am required to undertake a long protocol as I was unsuccessful in securing any embryos for freezing with an increased dosage in my medication in the vain hope I will produce more eggs this time around.

However I fail to down regulate and remain on the drugs for 8 weeks injecting a total of 56 injections. I feel rough, am tearful, moody & my legs feel very sore to touch from the daily injections.

We are advised to stop and take a 3 month break. This seems like a lifetime and to say we were upset is an understatement.

But we continue because the statistics show for a woman of my age 95% of woman will get pregnant within 3 cycles.

So this is it cycle number 3, this will be the one that gives us our baby.

Except it isn’t.

Even with the increased meds, the successful down regulation, the successful collection of 13 eggs this time round, I still never made it to the end of the 2 week wait before I started spotting.

At this point I have had enough. I want to throw the towel in, I cannot do this anymore. I am both mentally, physically and emotionally drained. We stop.

We go on holiday, we adopt another cat, we avoid family gatherings with children, we retreat into our safe haven to lick our wounds and prepare for life as a childless couple. We make plans but there is always that gaping hole. The endometriosis kicks in again, causing so much pain some days I can barely get out of bed, I am physically sick and the pain is so intense some days that it causes me to faint. I have woken up twice on the bathroom floor in a pool of blood.

It wasn’t unusual to find me in a hot bath at 3 in the morning to try and get some pain relief whilst waiting for cocodemol to kick in.

Finally after having major surgery to remove a 5cm cyst from my right ovarian tissue I was advised that I needed to decide if I wanted to undergo any further fertility treatment because if not I would need to have a full hysterectomy. An extremely sobering moment in our lives.

We had always thought we would come back to fertility treatment again one day but now we were being told it was now or never.

So in 2014 we made the decision brave or foolish who knows to try again for one last time.

I psyched myself up for the treatment, we were on the highest dose of medication with multiple daily injections this time round only to fail at the down regulation stage again. We had to stop and break for a month which was heartbreaking but we had promised ourselves one final full cycle of treatment so we went again in the beginning of 2015.

I never believed it would be successful especially as I was as sick as a dog with a stomach bug the day before embryo transfer.

The procedure was extremely painful and I remember thinking well that is it. Our IVF journey is over and going home in silence.

I didn’t rest, I didn’t lay up, I carried on as normal and waited for the stomach cramps to come but 10 days went by with nothing, then 11, then 12, I started to think just perhaps this may be our time at last and on day 15 when I had to do my pregnancy test I will never ever forget that feeling of seeing the two pink lines.

We were ecstatic, terrified, elated, panicked, overjoyed & scared all at the same time.

I felt truly blessed to be pregnant, it wasn’t an easy pregnancy, I was sick twice a day up to 18 weeks, I had gestational diabetes and Lilia was stuck in the transverse position right up to 36 weeks where I was admitted to hospital as a precaution because of the risk of a spontaneous labour which would have killed both her and myself.

She was eventually born at 38 weeks after 15 years of trying for a baby at the age of 44.

She is more than worth the wait, I am incredibly lucky to be her mum and I know I am blessed.

My heart goes out to those who have and will endure this process, it is tough, it is painful, it is a huge gamble, it is expensive, it makes you cynical, it is a license to print money, it is unknown but without it there would be no Lilia and for that I will always be eternally grateful.

Lausanne is Market Harborough based- and like me has a huge love of kids fashion- so much so she has a preloved kids fashion business

Peachy and Birdie Shop

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Life of a Mum

Birth Story

This is my very honest account of Dorothea’s birth story.

My induction of labour was planned for the Friday of my due date; this was due to being classed a ‘high risk’ pregnancy due to many issues ( IVF pregnancy, family history of maternal hypertension, asthma and rheumatoid arthritis). Although realistically I was a ‘fit and healthy’ but slightly older Mum to be.

The first Induction pessary was given at 11.30 on the Friday and at this point I was 1cm dilated with a soft cervix!

There wasn’t much movement during the day; lots of walking the corridors, visiting the coffee shop and colouring in books. I must say I didn’t realise how bloody boring induction could be! I really expected things to happen more quickly. There were several other women in the hospital bay with me and in the same boat; which helped.

Some mild practise contractions started in the evening; like mild tummy cramps that gripped the whole of my lower abdomen. Luckily I made a friend, ‘Katie’, in the next bed – who was on her fourth baby – being induced due to lower water levels; it was nice to share a chat and bounce on gym balls together. Katie was a great help reassuring me when my contractions started shortly afterwards.( Katie still hadn’t given birth when I left hospital 4 days later! Poor thing)

A lady in a nearby room was having a very very noisy labour (think stereotypical screaming!)so sleep was a stranger; and anxiety was increasing.

At midnight contractions started coming thick and fast (well I thought so at the time!), every two minutes lasting for a minute each, meaning very little break. The ‘kind’ midwife suggested some pain relief- I had some paracetamol and codeine for this which helped slightly (it was still fecking painful).

I never managed to relax, or be pain free enough to sleep at all; at 4am the contraction pain was really ramping up. The midwife offered more pain relief and suggested a warm bath. Yes a warm bath!!! (For fucks sake)

So I followed her advise and reclined in the hospital bath with a nice smelly bath bomb – THIS DID NOT HELP – I remember lying in the bath moaning and groaning, saying “oh my god, oh my god” and “ouch this hurts” over and over- yes I was that woman! I felt like I’d lost the bloody plot- felt like an animal wailing and groaning with every gripping pain. Fair dos do the ladies who do it sans analgesia- I really have no clue how that’s even survivable.

At 5am the contractions were very painful – I mean VERY painful – I couldn’t control my loud moans and the pain relief was doing nothing! The midwife examined me and broke my waters (at 3cm dilated)- honestly it was the weirdest feeling in the world- but the contractions felt less ‘pressured’ afterwards. She then moved me to a delivery room where I started using gas and air. Worringly the waters were slightly bloodied.

My partner was called in when I was settled in the delivery room – I think he was shocked that I went from calm, cheerful and happy at 23.30 to a deranged crazy shouty woman by 06.30! (Although this was maybe exacerbated by him saying she was ‘just’ going to get a shower, and grab a coffee first!)

At 8am contractions were very intense; they examined me again and found I was only 3-4cm- I felt like I’d gone through so much pain to get nowhere! It was at this point I requested an epidural (something I was quite determined not to have during pregnancy – for no other reason than fear!) this was the best decision I’d made!

I then had a nice relaxed morning/ afternoon and managed some naps- my partner and mum were present- mainly watching rugby and feeding me mints (I wasn’t allowed to eat- but was very hungry).

I was still regularly getting strong contractions two mins apart still (only felt as mild tightenings due to epidural). My cervix was showing little progression so I was started in a syntocin drip to speed up labour.

Unfortunately, Little Miss had decelerations of heart rate (to 80-100bpm) when I was sitting/ lying on bottom/back – so whole of labour I had to be on my sides – this was very uncomfortable and gave me hip pain (something I suffer with anyway due to rheumatoid arthritis).

In the evening I started to show signs of sepsis – a high temperature, heart rate and breathing rate, although I felt okay; I was started on antibiotics and told I would have to stay in hospital for at least 24 hours. I was really disappointed by this as wanted to get home with my baby ASAP.

I reached fully dilated at about 10pm and by this point Dorothea was having increased heart rate decelerations so was told to be prepared for a c-section! They decided to give an hour for the head to descend and at 11pm request I started pushing in the hope of delivering vaginally.

The joy of the epidural I had was that it was a ‘mobile epidural’ so was actually able to move onto all fours etc to push which really helped – it was due to this I was able to have the birth I wanted.

I was told I was doing really well pushing, but Little Miss dropped her heart rate to 85, so the drs were called in to assist (by called in I mean an emergency bell was sounded and my room suddenly filled with a whole team of people) I was told we had 3-4 contractions to move her or would have to have a c-section – I was super determined not to go to theatre!

We managed to get her out with the Drs assistance with a kiwi (suction cup device) and an episiotomy (also tore a little). I must say the pushing and actual birth was nowhere near as bad as I’d imagined – although the epidural must have helped loads! The pushing part went so quickly and afterwards I couldn’t believe it was 65 minutes.

During the end stage of labour I was told that I would be unlikely to be able to hold the baby as due to decelerations she was going to be tired and would be whisked away! Fortunately this didn’t happen- she came out screaming and was put on me immediately.

It took about 35 minutes to stitch me up, but to be honest, at this point I was breast feeding my daughter so really didn’t care.

My partner got to cut the cord (we had delayed cord clamping) and we both had skin to skin for the first hour. She fed within a couple of minutes; I was shocked at how simply she latched on.

My estimated blood loss was 600mls, but my partner said it looked like a horrifically gory horror movie – I guess we women don’t see the worst of it.

I was told afterwards that her cord gas showed her oxygen levels were really dropping and that we’d got her out just in time. Also my placenta was quite ‘gritty’ according to the midwife. I was so relieved that I didn’t go too far overdue as this is a first sign of deterioration.

Top tip from me? Don’t be brave – take the epidural!

I would never have been able to push her out if it wasn’t for the rest the epidural allowed me to have in the afternoon.

Also, try not to worry; your body does so much naturally and you don’t remember the bad bits afterwards! ( I know everyone says that- but honestly; it was the most excruciatingly painful experience of my life- but I wouldn’t hesitate to do it again).

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