On June 7th 2023, the consultant called. I’d got all of the responses prepped in my head. Delivering people crap news is never nice, and I didn’t want her to feel any worse about it than necessary.

When I answered she recapped where we were and that she was calling with the blood test results. They were within range.

Wait, what? I laughed and cried at the same time. None of my pre-planned responses had accounted for that news. She could do us a referral for IVF if we wanted it. I was completely thrown off, again. I hadn’t bothered to remind my partner about the appointment because I believed I already knew how it was going to go. I figured she might as well do the referral while we talked about what to do. In our area, you’re entitled to one NHS-funded IVF cycle. This includes further viable frozen egg transfers should the first not be successful. It varies a lot (between one and three) depending on your location. She again mentioned needing to be sterilised before any IVF could take place, and the possibility that something may need to be done about the cyst on my ovary. The cyst on my ovary? Apparently, this cyst had appeared on the ultrasound scan in March 2022, which I didn’t remember having had the results from. In fact, I’d forgotten I’d even been for it!

I must admit, I had concerns. I’d had three blood tests over fifteen months and they had all said my Follicle-stimulating hormone (FSH) levels were high. I’m a stats-focused person, and there was no getting away from the fact that this “in range” was the anomaly. Plus, I’d also been experiencing symptoms that felt like they could indicate something wasn’t right. I kept thinking if my FSH levels were high, there’d be less chance of retrieving viable eggs during the IVF process anyway. Women with high FSH usually have a poor yield and poor quality eggs with chromosomal abnormalities which don’t produce viable embryos.

I had further concerns about the fact I needed to have my tubes clipped. The consultant had reiterated multiple times that she wasn’t willing to go in there as she thought there was too much risk. So why would someone else think differently? And if they didn’t get clipped, conception was unlikely due to fluid from my fallopian tubes leaking back into my uterus making it inhospitable…

Deciding whether to do IVF

I wanted to go to the IVF clinic. Of course I did. I’d decided that being a parent was something I’d like to do following the late-period fiasco. I enjoy going through as many experiences as life can offer. I think that’s what it’s all about. What’s the point of being here otherwise? And somewhere along this journey, I’d found myself thinking that I might actually be quite good at it. Something I’d never thought, or maybe allowed myself to think, before. I’d let myself imagine us parenting, and growing individually and together. I thought it could potentially make us both better people and could be an opportunity to put something good out into the world. I also kept thinking it would be a great topic to write about, to add value to my offerings as an IBD and ostomy advocate.

My partner wasn’t so certain. I wasn’t willing to try and talk him into it, as it’s too big a decision to go into if it’s not wholeheartedly. I told him he needed to make a decision either way, soon, as the referral had been sent.

Letters started arriving. We were copied into all of the communications between the fertility gynaecologist and the fertility clinic. The reproductive specialist at the fertility clinic felt my complications needed “further evaluation” before we could be seen in the IVF unit, so we were to wait for an appointment at the infertility clinic. My heart sank as I thought about having to go through more testing, and what if they checked my FSH again? It had taken 16 months to get an in-range result!

It was a horrible day when my partner sat me down and said he didn’t want to do the IVF. His preference would be to adopt or foster, and to take on a young (not newborn) child. I knew he’d carefully considered it. He had a good list of reasons and fears, and I couldn’t argue with them. I may not have agreed with all of them, but they were very real to him. I don’t think all of the letters we’d been copied into helped matters due to wording like “adhesions and risk of bowel damage” and “too complex”… His main reason was that he wasn’t willing to risk me or my health for something that doesn’t yet, and still may not, exist, because I am the most important thing to him. He has me already and he wants it to stay that way. It’s difficult to be angry with that logic. Don’t get me wrong, I was upset. I had a few cries and a mini grieving process, but there was also some relief. Relief at not having to go through more medical procedures.

I know what my insides are like. “Sticky” was the word the surgeon had used, way back in 2014, when he’d had to bring another surgeon in to help him separate my bowel from the surrounding organs. For that same reason, he made me have ureteral stents inserted before my Jpouch excision in 2018. It became clear immediately how much everything was entangled because as soon as the stents went in, it affected my ability to pass stool. The adhesions also affect my bladder function. The gynaecologist had been unwilling to go in and do anything with or to look at my fallopian tubes. To believe that clipping my fallopian tubes and possibly removing an ovarian cyst was going to come without risk would be stupid. To believe that carrying a child wouldn’t mean risking a hernia, prolapse, blockages, and pain because my adhesions and abdominal wall don’t want to stretch would also be stupid. To believe that coming off the pain medications that help me function with fibro would all work out OK… Also stupid. Still, I’d had tunnel vision because my mind was focused on the potential outcome.

I soon began to realise the truth of the matter. He had been forced to make a sensible and safe decision that I would never have been strong enough to make.

Don’t!

Before anyone feels they should comment with positive “other options”, or stories of miraculous conceptions, please don’t. It’s actually never appropriate, helpful, or inspiring.

Returning to contraception

In truth, I was looking forward to going back on contraception for multiple reasons. Since stopping it, acne, constant greasy hair, menstrual cramps, breast soreness, and more recently, two-week bleeds became a problem. I couldn’t have meds for the acne because of the potential pregnancy because I was off contraception and the cream soon stopped working. Supplements I might usually have tried for the pain and breast soreness were also a no-go for the same reason. It had been pretty s**t. The pain and bleeding had been even worse over the previous 7-8 months.

It had taken a long time to find the right contraception for me in the past. Many of them caused issues with my joints, skin, weight, and mood. Unfortunately, the one I was on previously, which I’d considered the right one, is not working like it did before. Random bleeding, no calming of the acne etc. I’m hoping it’s just taking a while for everything to “level out”. Time will tell I suppose!

The end

So, that’s the end of our fertility testing journey. I’m sorry it’s not all been glitter, rainbows, and unicorns, and that there’s no happy “expecting” ending. It’s been long (two years) and emotional. I can’t imagine many people have followed it all the way through from beginning! As always, I will try to be an open book about it all should anyone have any questions!