I’ve been debating about posting this, because one, it’s really fucking personal, and two, this could potentially help someone going through IVF and fertility issues.
As only my family and some of my close friends know, I just want to get my story out into the digital world. So here it goes… *deep breaths*
Last year in January we went through our first circle of IVF. Well, actually it all started in April 2019, but didn’t officially start the process until December.
We were both super excited to start a new chapter in our lives.
We’d been trying for years and I knew it was going to be hard as I have stage four endometriosis. I had a huge endo cyst on my right ovary and on my left, the fallopian tube is blocked from endometriosis tissue.
We decided IVF could be successful, little did I know the heartache that would follow afterwards.
We went through countless injections to grow follicles and get them to reach a certain size. After appointment after appointment (every other day for 2-3 weeks), we decided to increase my injection dosage to make sure they reach above around 16mm per follicle.
Joe did my injections, taking turns on each side of my tummy.
I remember we went to see a film at the cinema and did one injection in the car park at 9pm, as we had to do it at a particular time each day. If anyone saw us, they would probably think the worse lol.
But that was our life. Injection after injection.
The follicles finally reached a certain size and I was ready for egg collection.
The whole egg collection process was straight forward, we had to be at the clinic for 7am, I had a patient gown on and then I was put to sleep while they collected the eggs. After egg collection, I was ready to go home while they mixed the sperm and eggs together and left for a few days to fertilise.
I received a call a few days later, the specialist told me, out of the three eggs that were collected, only one had fertilised. We felt so lucky that just one out of three had survived.
I was told to come in to the clinic for embryo transfer the following day.
Embryo transfer was absolutely fine – it was like having a smear test. It was only awkward because I had a endo cyst on my right ovary and the specialist was trying to work around it to put the embryo in.
We got a taxi home as I wasn’t allowed to do too much walking and needed to rest.
THE EMBRYO WAS IN! WE WERE FINALLY PREGNANT! Or so I thought…
Two-three weeks later I bled.
We were devastated. I remember finding out at work, told the girls and went home that day as I was too upset to concentrate on anything.
Little did I know and sadly a month later, I fell really ill. I had to have two blood transfusions and the hospital doctors told me that my endo cyst had got infected.
I knew immediately there and then, that this must of happened when either I was going for egg collection or embryo transfer. An easy mistake to do. With the needle puncturing my cyst.
I didn’t have surgery until June due to the dreaded C-19 word, and by that time, I’d gone from being a size 12 to a size 8 as I was being sick constantly, I was rather fatigued and my hair started falling out. I explain my endometriosis operation in detail here, but long story short, I now have a stoma and one ovary. And my hair is finally growing back slowly. Still don’t have my fringe fully grown back, but it’s getting there.
We decided to wait till I have the reversal of my stoma to then try for IVF again (whenever that may be), as I don’t want to be pregnant with a stoma out of choice (if I did get lucky). But I’m terrified of something like this happening again. I only have one ovary left and I know I’ve got half the chance this time.
So that’s my IVF story to date. I hope this is helpful to somewhat one person. And I hope I haven’t put you off going through IVF, I just got really unlucky.
If you have any questions, feel free to leave them in the comments below or feel free to DM me on Instagram. I’m always here to listen and help from my experiences.