Time to draw a line under it….

Kiki Green - 4 Nov 16

It’s been a strange old day.

At the end of it – when all hope was gone – I turned to a strawberry and lime Koppaberg and a bag of Wispa Bites.

Infertility is a bitch – it strips your soul bare and stings. It’s just so bloody unfair and painful.

Even when you’ve given it the two fingers once – emerging against all odds with a daughter born thanks to
the kindness of our donor – it has the power to taser you powerless into submission again and again.

And secondary infertility hurts in much the same way as it did first time round – albeit in a different way.

After three failed attempts using the same donors eggs to give our daughter a genetic sibling, we had two frozen embryos remaining.

Putting two embryos back each time – they were our last remaining chance to give her that. Very final – all or nothing.

However, after our most recent failed cycle in September – I felt very weary of IVF. The control it has over our lives.

After six IVF cycles all in all, I was concerned what the repeated strong hormones, steroids and blood thinners were doing to my body. I was sick too of the emotionally and mentally draining strain a cycle put me under. I felt it’d aged me ten years into a cynical shell of myself. In short, I was ready for a break from IVF at the very least. It’s governed my life and our family’s lives entirely for the last five years.

I wanted to be free from its shackles and enjoy life…. for a bit, at least.

So, at our latest review with the consultant we decided we’d culture our two remaining embryos – which were frozen on day three – onto day five, before (hopefully) freezing them again before commencing another cycle in the Spring. This would give me chance for a much needed break from the drugs. What would be, would be.

So, looking forward to ‘getting on with my life’ with my husband and two year old in the run up to Christmas, the embryos were thawed on Tuesday.

A call on Wednesday told me they’d moved on and were growing – one looked better than the other, but it was promising. Thumbs up.

Thursday – the hallowed day five in IVF terms, when embryos become blastocysts, and, unusually I didn’t hear from the clinic until late afternoon. I was getting twitchy.

Turns out the embryos hadn’t moved onto blastocyst and it looked highly likely they were arresting.

Legally, embryos can be cultured in an IVF lab until day six. After that, game over. Waiting another 20 hours for the final nail in the coffin of hope felt like a pointless formality.

Ultimately – today it was confirmed that my daughter won’t be having a sibling with the same biological parents.

That’s it – a line drawn under that chapter.

I felt profoundly sad. But also strangely relieved.

I felt sad because as my infertility counsellor enlightened me, after mourning the loss of my own fertility and ability to pass on my genes and see my likeness in a child, five years later, I was now somewhat attached to my lovely donor’s genes as if they were my own.

However, I was relieved too because it means IF we do IVF again it would be with a different donor. I’d have fresh hope, not a cynicism borne from repeated failures.

Any future sibling wouldn’t be in the image of my beautiful daughter. They’d be beautiful in a different way.

Or, this twist of fate meant I could now choose to be happy with my lot and appreciate what we have in our wonderful, loving, clever and funny daughter and see that as our family complete.

I’m not sure I’m there…. just yet.

Adoption could be a future option.

Scary choices.

Sibling or bust?

I’m weary. I need a break.

It’ll hopefully give me chance to know whether and where to draw another line under it all.

Kiki Green

36 - mum of one post premature menopause thanks to a lovely donor! Currently a full time mummy to my daughter - would love a sibling for her, formerly in TV, radio and comms. Future??? Loves chocolate a g&t and to laugh!

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