#39, My final blog.

Well, it was always going to happen at some point. The final blog. Be it with a decision or an outcome. Since having our chemical (early miscarriage) pregnancy back in September, I have felt that it has been an unfinished story. A cruel glimpse of what could have been. A ‘what if’ with the 2 remaining embryos still sitting there in the freezer. 

After making sure finances could stretch and persuading my husband to let me try again, promising him that he honestly won’t have to pick up the pieces of a broken wife again… we put a plan into action to use the last 2 remaining frozen embryos. 

Back in March, I started my medications. Prostap, norethisterone, progynova, aspirin, cyclogest and lubion in total up to now. It’s all gone very smoothly. Yep, the surge of hormones do what they do, but all in all, I cant really complain. 

As before with our Son’s successful round, and the pregnancy at the end of the year, I also travelled to Sutton Coldfield to have an ‘Intralipid infusion’ for my high natural killer cell count. With both these rounds, I travelled to Cyprus on my own and came back pregnant, ( a story I love to tell, just to see the look on peoples faces), however we decided as this was the final round, we would all go as a family and try to treat it as a break away (yeah right). 

On the 7th May, we flew out to the place that made Teddy possible. It was more emotional than I had even thought about, seeing him there sat around the pool that I had stared at, whilst wishing for him, and then the following time, wishing for his brother or sister. Now, (as he enjoyed putting stickers all over my face), I was witnessing my beautiful boy in the country that his egg donor came from. Part of his genetics came from this very place he was now visiting. I laughed a lot as the childrens tv was all in foreign, however Teddy still loved it. We would joke that he probably understood it!

As with the previous rounds, we flew out, had a day to settle and on the 9th our FET (frozen egg transfer) took place. 2 grade 3AA embryos were transferred into me and hoped that they/it would stick. We travelled back on the 14th and I needed 3 wee’s at the airport whilst we were waiting for our flight details, another few on the plane and another at Manchester airport before we drove home. My husband turned to me and said “you’re pregnant aren’t you!?” I laughed and replied, “yep, i think so” with a wink. It was the same the following day as we took a walk together whilst our son was in nursery. The next day however, nothing. No symptoms. No nausea, no increased urination, no sore breasts, just cramping and back ache. With the 2 most recent pregnancies, by day 9 I was testing positive, so I snuck out and took a test… negative. My body went stiff, my skin felt like it was on fire and I could not clear a choking sensation in my throat as I could not take my eyes off of the test, willing a faint line to show. ‘This can not be how it ends’, screaming through my head. I called my husband to let him know. I didn’t want to have to tell him face to face. Here he was, he was right. He knew it was a risk, quite possibly a waste of money and a concern of having to hold me tightly as my heart could break all over again. I felt I failed him, yet again. When I got home, the tears fell and didn’t stop. I had to keep taking myself away and after Teddy would go to bed the sadness would spill out of me like a release. Our official test day was 3 days away. We knew though. We’ve been here before. 

I had work the day before my official test day and I messaged my colleagues that day, to ask them to let me get my head down and work and to not ask me how it went. They were wonderful. As soon as the last customer was served and the shutter went down, I also had my release as my heart broke informing them of my news.

The morning of the test at around 4am, I peed on the stick, put the cover back on and got back into bed without reading it. I did not settle. I was restless. Unsettling my husband from his sleep, he then went to the toilet and checked the result. Negative. I’m not sure if either of us got back to sleep. Grief and heartache means that you exist through a day rather than live it. That’s most definitely been my week. Outbursts of tears. The odd moment of clarity. I know that this will pass. The hormones will drop. The realisation that we did everything we could will take over. But right now the heartache is still so raw.

You’re never too old to need a hug and in these moments, when your family is no longer here, you wish there was a line to heaven. 

For some reason, once Teddy came along, I knew we would be a family of 4. I have no explanation why that is. It's just this knowing belief. I guess that we are a family of 4. I’ve been in labour twice. I delivered and have loved 2 children. We just got to leave the hospital with 1. 

I know that all I’m going to hear is that “at least you still have Teddy”, but you don’t go through what we have put ourselves through, without hoping that the 65% chance of success is in your favour. You wouldn’t tell someone who has just had their left leg amputated that they at least still have their right leg. (Ok, so that may be a slightly extreme scenario, however in my hormonal thickness of grief I am feeling right now, my ability as a woman has now been taken away from me to be able to conceive. You may not have taken away my leg, but it feels like I’ve had a hysterectomy as my ability to be pregnant has now gone.)

If you talk to anyone who has struggled with fertility, one of the hardest parts to deal with is the consuming jealousy. It all depends on how honest that person is, but deep down, every pregnancy announcement cuts deep. Those lucky ones who conceive naturally, who as I joke, ‘make babies for free’ (because I dread to sit down and work out, what we have spent over the years!). Deep down, we all of a sudden struggle how to talk to you. Even now, people are shocked at how my jealousy still exists. Trust me!!! I REALLY don’t want it to, but it sits deep inside of me eating away at me. More so in these very moments of grief. 

Since my official test day on Wednesday, I have had to continue with my medication and test again today. Negative. The meds have finished. The journey has come to an end. Our story is over!

Over the years I have gone through:-

2019

IUI  - failed

ICSI - 1 blastocyst, failed

ICSI - 2 poor quality day 2 embryos, failed

2020

IMSI - 1 day 3 embryo, Pregnancy, Stillbirth at 25 weeks, Chromosome mutation, KAT6B

2021

IMSI - failed to create an embryo, no transfer

Egg donation fresh - 2 blastocysts, failed

2022

Egg donation fresh - 2 blastocysts, failed

FET- 2 blastocysts, Pregnancy, Teddy born June 2023

2024

FET - 2 blastocysts, Chemical pregnancy

2025

FET - Final 2 blastocysts, failed

I can not thank everyone enough who has been on this journey with us. 

I will now and then get messages or have been stopped out and about by friends/followers, to let me know that I have been an inspiration to them. My story has made them fight for their dreams too. A baby that they one day, had hoped they would have. 

In those moments, my fight has not just given me a son, it has made a difference to other women. 

It even inspired my husband to write a play “Trouble With Kids”.

The journey has been rough. At times it has broken me. But as they say, you can not get a rainbow without a little rain. Our rainbow, Teddy, truly was our miracle. I have held him tighter than ever recently. 

If anything has come from writing these blogs, I want to be remembered as that inspiration I have been seen as, and not for the heartache the story ends on. 

Whatever it is in life, I wish your dreams come true.

Zoe xx