Birth!

So here it is!

On the way down to Labour Suite, the midwife explained that I was never in line to have the 3^rd dose of the induction medication.

Were I being induced because I was overdue, they would continue the normal induction process until it either worked or they had to stop and deliver the baby via c-section. However, because the induction was due to my waters breaking, they were under a time limit of only having 48 hours to get labour started properly.

Hence my move down to Labour Suite 48 hours after my waters broke!

Not being entirely sure how the next part of the induction would work (given that my contractions were clearly still not properly established), I asked whether I would be allowed a water birth.

She actually scoffed!

Thanks, lady.

I think she realised she’d been a bit rude and dismissive because she then explained why. To progress the contractions, I would need to be hooked up to a drip of oxytocin right up to the point of giving birth, and while on the drip, the baby would need to be monitored constantly.

It was at this point that I realised, with not a small amount of dread, that aside from going to the toilet, I would more than likely be laying in the same position on the same bed right up until I actually had the baby.

So here I am – still cheerful at this point! On the right of the photo, you can see the medication on the drip, going into my hand. On the left, you can see the monitor, recording the baby’s heartbeat and my contractions. 

The midwife settled me into our room and said she would be back soon to put me on the drip and monitor.

I really can’t explain how excited I was at this point! Nervous, yes. Terrified, of course. But still so excited.

Soon, the midwife returned and hooked me up to the drip. She showed me a long tube with the medication in it, and explained that all the medication I should need was in there, and that a specific amount would be released each hour. This amount could be adjusted based on how my body and the baby were responding, and I would be starting out at 1mg per hour.

To be honest, I was expecting this to be adjusted each hour but I was increased to 2mg an hour pretty quickly. Within about half an hour, I think.

It wasn’t long before shift change gave us a new midwife, Vicki, and Hayley the student midwife, who would actually be the one who ended up coaching me through the birth itself.

At this point, not much was happening really. For a good few hours, I was in a cycle of my medication being increased, staying as calm as possible through some quite intense contractions, and watching the monitor.

My husband only told me this once I’d already given birth, and I had no clue at the time, but the midwives were at this point considering giving me a c-section, because I wasn’t really reacting when I had a contraction. They were apparently worried that if I wasn’t feeling the contractions when they were registering as strongly as they were on the monitor, I wouldn’t be able to use them properly to help me push.

The thing is, I was feeling them! I was just trying to stay as calm as possible and breathe through them.  Luckily for me though, by the time my medication was at 9mg, I knew I’d need some pain relief, so began using the gas and air but in all honesty, it didn’t do much apart from make me feel light headed.

Around 10pm, my cervix was checked and I was proclaimed to be 4cm dilated! The decision was made to increase the medication again, taking me to 11mg per hour, to ensure that I continued to progress.

The gas and air was still feeling a bit useless, so I asked for pethidine. Let’s just say, if I were to ever be giving birth again, I wouldn’t bother with it! It made my light-headedness worse, it made me feel nauseous, and it didn’t really do anything to help with the pain.

I don’t know how long it was after that the pain became unbearable. I do remember it was quite sudden!

I told my husband I needed an epidural, and I had it within about 10 minutes. The relief! It turned out that the medication had been turned up so high to help me feel the contractions that I was actually contracting too much and too often (which I never knew was possible). Looking at the printout from the monitor, it was almost as if I was having one long contraction, as it didn’t have a chance to fade properly before the next began building.

No wonder it hurt!

I took the opportunity to get a bit of sleep, though it wasn’t completely restful – an epidural doesn’t completely numb you, you know!

Around 3am, my cervix was checked again and I was fully dilated! Vicki explained that she’d like me to rest for bit more and let the baby descend a bit further on his own.

“You’ll be pushing in an hour.”

I do remember feeling suddenly very nervous at that point, but I think tiredness overrode that because I know I did fall asleep again after texting my family to tell them I was fully dilated.

4am arrived, along with my midwife, student midwife, and the midwife in charge (to wish me luck).

It began!

Altogether, I was pushing for an hour and a half, and the majority of that time was incredibly frustrating. I knew going in that a lot of pushing is to just move the baby down the birth canal, but to be honest I didn’t fully appreciate quite how much effort that takes! Though I couldn’t be sure of timings because – hey – was a little too busy to look at a clock, I’d estimate that of those 90 minutes, at least 80 of them were spent getting him down the birth canal. Actually pushing him out was easy in comparison to that!

I think part of the problem is that you can’t actually tell how much progress you’re making at that point – you’re completely reliant on the midwives telling you that he is indeed moving.

Yes it was very tough, yes it was extremely hard work, but I think I went into a bit of a trance because suddenly one of the midwives said that she could see his head. I do remember that I didn’t believe her! No way was I that close to actually having him!

So she made me reach down and feel.

“Oh my god, he’s got hair!”

At this point, my midwife let the student midwife (Hayley) talk me through the rest of the birth. It all happened rather quickly after that. Before I knew it, there he was!

They put him up on my chest immediately and I just held on. It didn’t feel real that this, right here, was my own baby and that I got to keep him.

After negative test after negative test, countless invasive and undignified examinations, and IVF, was it really possible that we actually had our baby boy there in front of us?

I expected to be hurried straight back up to the ward but actually, I had a very relaxing couple of hours on the Labour Suite. Henry was checked over, I had a shower once my legs started working again after the epidural, and I was given some food (it all came straight back up but they got me some more and I managed to keep it down – apparently that can be because of the injection they give you to help deliver the placenta).

After all that, Henry was wrapped up and put into his little cot, I was given a wheelchair, and we went back up to another private room on the ward.

And there we were… a year and 2 days after finding out that my fallopian tubes were blocked and we needed IVF, we were sat in the hospital with our brand new, perfect baby.

Henry, born at 5:30am on 6^th May 2018.

Perfect.

Induction

Loaded up with all our bags, plus a massive v-shaped pillow, we made our way to the hospital at 4pm on the Friday. Thankfully, we were given a private room, which was a huge relief! The idea of sleeping on a ward had filled me with horror, and I waddled into that building quite prepared to beg for a private room if necessary.

When we were shown to the room I was told that I’d be induced soon after arrival, so that the baby wouldn’t be left too long without the protection offered by the waters. We got ourselves set up – I had all my snacks lined up ready to go, my husband got the tablet set up on the wifi so that we could Netflix some random comedies to keep my distracted once the contractions started*.

*Other streaming services are available!

I knew I'd be spending a lot of time in this room!

A midwife popped in to introduce herself and welcome me to the maternity building. She explained that they were very busy so they would start the induction process around 6pm. Yes, it was slightly annoying to have to wait when it’s something so exciting but 2 hours isn’t an awful wait really.

6 o'clock came. 6 o'clock went. No induction.

To be honest, it wasn't the lack of induction that bothered me. It was the fact that nobody came to tell me why it would be delayed, or even that it would be delayed. I pressed the call buzzer a few times and the staff told me that someone would see me ‘soon’.

At this point, the excitement had pretty much disappeared and all I was feeling were the nerves! It had suddenly hit me that I might be in hospital longer than I originally anticipated, and that it was really about to happen. I just wanted them to get on with it!

Eventually, at 9:30 p.m. one of the night shift midwives – Julie – came to start my induction. She explained that there had been a delivery on the ward (which is pretty rare because usually the woman is sent down to labour ward in time) and that this is what had caused the delay. It was totally fair enough, but I still wished someone had popped in to explain, rather than just leave me hanging.

Anyway, induction time!

There are a number of stages to induction, which broadly follow the pattern of monitoring, medication, monitoring, and waiting. This process can be done 4 times, at specific intervals, but not everyone will need all 4 doses to successfully start their labour.

It begins with spending half an hour hooked up to a monitor to see how the baby is doing, which provides a baseline for the midwives to compare to later monitoring. For those of you who don't know, when you are on the monitor you have to sit completely still otherwise the pads of the monitor can slip and they won't be registering the baby anymore.

Now I don't know about you, but when I have nothing to do, I can sit totally still for hours, watching tv, reading a book, or even doing absolutely nothing. On the other hand, when I am told that I HAVE to sit still and not move, I become incredibly restless.

As soon as she put the monitor on, I was pretty sure I’d be able to run a marathon at that moment. I just wanted to MOVE.

Still, it's only half an hour, right?

Wrong.

Because, once that monitoring is over, the next stage of induction begins.

This part is when the midwife inserts a pessary of medication into the cervix. It contains prostaglandins, which is the hormone that the body releases to stimulate contractions. Although it isn’t instant, a few doses of prostaglandins is often enough to kickstart labour.

Then you’re put on the monitor again, this time for an hour, to make sure that the baby is not distressed by the medication, and to see whether any small contractions have begun.

This entire process was repeated 6 hours later, which for me was 3:30 in the morning. Joy of joys.

Before my second dose, I had started to have contractions and although they were only about 30 seconds long and were quite far apart, they were still frequent and painful enough that I noticed them! So you can imagine, when the midwife arrived at 3:30, I hadn’t had very much sleep.

3:30am monitoring - baby was nice and sleepy with a heartbeat of 122 beats per minute!

Again, the baby was monitored for half an hour, a pessary was inserted, and I was monitored for another hour. There was some good news though! When the midwife checked my cervix before giving the prostaglandins, she explained that because my cervix was almost completely effaced and I was having small contractions, she didn’t expect that I would need a third dose! Fantastic!

Effacement isn’t really something we often hear about when discussing labour, or when it’s portrayed in tv/film – we hear about dilation and that’s it, but actually a significant portion of that early labour, the part that seems never-ending, is spent with the cervix effacing. Usually, the cervix is a long tube which points down in the top of the vagina. During the early stage of labour, the contractions are forcing the cervix to flatten, or 'efface'. Only once the cervix is fully effaced can dilation begin. This is why the early stage can seem so disappointing – to have been in labour for hours and hours, to be told you’re only 1cm dilated?! It’s just important to remember that in that time, those contractions have turned your cervix from a 2cm long tube, to being completely flat!

My cervix was checked again at around 10 o'clock in the morning.

1 cm dilated!

How exciting!

When being induced, if you need a third pessary, this takes place 24 hours after the first hormones were given, meaning I was preparing myself to wait until 9:30 on the Saturday evening.
A second midwife agreed that I would probably not need a third pessary, but she explained that the final call on that wouldn’t be made until much closer to the time, so she wanted me to make sure that my progress didn’t stall. I was encouraged to walk up and down the stairs in the maternity building, go to the shop in the main hospital building, and take a warm bath.

Knowing that no more intervention would be taking place until late into the evening, I sent my husband home to have a shower and get some sleep. We’re lucky at our hospital that they do allow a partner to stay overnight, but they don’t provide much in the way of comfort. My husband (who has Chronic Fatigue Syndrome), had spent Friday night sleeping on the floor and was not allowed to take a shower on the ward.

He didn’t want to leave me, but understood that during this part of the induction, I didn’t need him as much as I would while in full blown labour. I needed him to be in tip-top condition, and that meant a shower and sleep! So off he went.

My Mother-in-Law stayed with me, and after a while timing my contractions while I bounced on a maternity ball, we took a slow shuffle to the shop to buy an ice cream (yes, she also shuffled – if you’d seen her recent ankle injury, you’d understand).

50 second contractions, 5 minutes apart. Still not close enough. I was starting to think I’d be having that third pessary after all!

On the way back to my room, we ran into my husband arriving back at the hospital. We returned to the room, to find a Midwife knocking at the door.

I introduced myself.

“Ready to come downstairs to labour suite then?” Was all she said.

I responded, rather foolishly, “What, now?”

“Well that’s why you’re here, isn’t it?” The Midwife replied.

Yes. Yes it was! She gave us a few minutes to gather all our things and then we were off! To labour suite! To have our baby!

Here. We. Go!

What an exciting and exhausting few weeks we’ve had!

15 days before his due date, at 5:30am on the 6^th May, our Henry made his entrance into the world, weighing in at a healthy 7lb 12oz (3.52kg, for you strange people who use metric to measure babies).

So let’s go back to the beginning.

(And by the beginning, I mean last year).

4^th May 2017 – I spent the day in hospital, had my laparoscopy and we found out that we needed IVF to have a baby.

Fast-forward to 3^rd May 2018.

It was a Thursday, and was both the Local Council Elections and a Parents’ Evening at my husband’s school (NOT for a year group he teaches, thank goodness). On Parents’ Evening days, his school finishes slightly early and any staff who don’t have appointments are encourage to go home straight away, so he made it home around 3pm and we immediately drove to the local church to vote. Once we’d finished there, he suggested going home via the shop so that we could get an ice cream – music to a heavily pregnant lady’s ears when it’s so hot outside!

On the drive to the shops, it’s lucky no police cars were around because we’d definitely have been pulled over for my husband to be breathalysed! Swerving the car all over the road and hitting every. Single. Pothole.

“I’m trying to jiggle the baby out of you!” he responded when I asked what on earth he was doing.

Fair enough.

Anyway, we bought our ice creams and drove (swerved/bounced) home. Standing outside the front door as my husband unlocked it, my waters broke.

You mean it WORKED?!    

        

Side note – had I tried to work up to my original maternity leave date, I’d have been dismissing the children on the playground at the end of the day when my waters broke. Thank heavens I took maternity leave early because THAT would have been a story that never got forgotten at school!

Now let me warn you – these next few posts are going to go into specifics about labour and childbirth, so if you’re squeamish about it, or just don’t particularly want to read those details about someone you know, I’d stop reading now!

Ok?

Sure?

Righty-ho, here we go!

I honestly don’t know how some people say that they weren’t sure if their waters had gone or if they’d wet themselves because for me, the feeling was so alien that there was no way I could confuse the two! Maybe that isn’t how it feels for some people but for me, there was no mistaking what had happened.

Still, I said nothing about it to my husband, just mumbled something about needing the toilet, and escaped to the downstairs loo.

More waters. And more.

By the way, for any pregnant women reading this – they don’t warn you quite how much amniotic fluid there is. It’s a lot. Just… a lot. Buy all the maternity pads. Seriously, all of them.

Once I was sure that I wasn’t imagining it, I told my husband, “So… we may have a Star Wars baby yet!” (May the 4^th be with you, for anyone who has been living under a rock).

I then ran back to the toilet because yet more waters made an appearance.

(I told you – a lot! Pads. Get them).

So the next job was to call the hospital but for some reason, I felt really silly doing it! I shouldn’t have – waters breaking is a perfectly legitimate reason to call the maternity assessment unit – but I did.

They asked me to put a fresh pad on, wait for an hour and then come to the assessment unit, bringing that pad with me so that they could check it was my waters and not urine. So that’s what we did.

We arrived at the hospital around 5:30 and I was taken to labour suite to be assessed, as the assessment unit hands over to labour suite at 6, so they figured they may as well send me straight there. They confirmed pretty quickly that it was indeed my waters breaking, and hooked me up to a monitor so they could see a) how baby was doing and b) whether I was contracting yet.

Hint: I wasn’t.

Medically, this is called PROM (Pre-labour Rupture of Membranes), which is when the amniotic sac breaks more than 1 hour before the onset of actual labour.

The pad with the blue strap is measuring our baby's heart and the pad with the pink strap is measuring my contractions.

I did have to stay in for a few hours (about 4 in the end) because the baby’s heartbeat was a little bit too high for the midwives to be completely happy, but eventually he settled down. I was sent home with the instruction to return to the hospital the next day (the 4^th May) at 4pm to be induced.

Blimey.

Logically, I knew that would be the next step if my contractions didn’t begin on their own overnight, because they can’t leave the baby out of the protection of the amniotic sac for very long, but still, eeep!

I asked the midwife what I needed to bring with me for the induction and she replied, “Everything. Once you come in tomorrow, you won’t be leaving until you’ve had the baby.” Double blimey.

Off I went home, hoping of course that my contractions would start overnight, would increase relatively quickly, and I’d be able to go into hospital the next morning, avoid induction and just pop a baby out.

No such luck, of course!

I did have twinges of pain throughout the night, and I found it very difficult to sleep because of the heat, the twinges and the fact that every time I moved, yet more waters came out. So I spent a good portion of the night sitting on towels and plastic bags on the sofa, making lists of housework to do throughout the Friday before I was due at the hospital.

To be honest, the only thing that stopped me actually doing those jobs overnight was the fact that I was too scared to move, lest I ruin the furniture or the floor with more leaking waters!

We spent Friday morning and early afternoon doing housework, making sure that when we returned from the hospital, we wouldn’t be greeted by a house that was stressful.

That afternoon, which was exactly one year to the day from when we found out we would need IVF to have a baby, we went into hospital to have our IVF baby induced. There’s some kind of poetry in that, I feel.

Maternity leave, surprising symptoms and a pesky placenta!

So I’ve been a bit rubbish updating this blog recently, but now I am officially ON MATERNITY LEAVE, I have time!

What is it that I’ve been up to these last few weeks, then? I last left you 6 weeks ago, while I was off work with pregnancy related exhaustion and contemplating bringing my maternity leave forward from 38 weeks to 36 weeks. Well I’m 37 weeks and 3 days pregnant, and here I am, on my 2^nd week of maternity leave!

It was definitely the right decision to bring my maternity leave start date forward 2 weeks! The final week at work was utterly exhausting and I’m so glad that I decided to listen to my body and start at 36 weeks. When I think about how I’d be feeling if I was still at work today… I don’t think I’d have coped!

I know some people do manage to work a lot closer to their due date and ideally I would have liked to, as it would mean longer on maternity leave after he’s born, but it just wasn’t going to happen.

Teaching is such a physically active job and also requires you to be performing (a very accurate word to describe what we do) ALL day long. If you work in an office or call centre, for example, you can grimace and pull faces, sit in funny-yet-somehow-comfy positions, and take a few minutes to run to the toilet.

These simply aren’t possible when you’re responsible for a class of 7 year olds! You’re on your feet teaching and demonstrating, you’re walking around the classroom checking answers and making sure that everyone is able to do the work, you’re having to be active and energetic enough to make the lessons engaging and stimulating, and you certainly can’t leave them all alone in the classroom while you run to the toilet! I do love my job but it definitely is not easy when you’re 8 months pregnant!

After a lovely send-off from my colleagues, I’ve fully embraced maternity leave! The first Saturday was spent in lovely sunshine with a wine glass full of sparkling strawberry fizz and a box of chocolates; I had a haircut and used my mum-to-be spa pampering kit!

Since then, it hasn’t been quite as fun to be honest. I’ve spent a lot of time sorting out paperwork and doing general housekeeping, simply to keep my mind off how uncomfortable and restless I am at the moment!

Just cannot find a comfortable position to sit or lay in, my feet are like hippo feet, my heart feels like its racing, I’m feeling nauseous, and every time I change position slightly, I need a wee… definitely needing things to take my mind off it!

Surprising symptoms

There aren’t many symptoms that have surprised me this pregnancy, probably because I’ve read around the subject so much while we were going through the IVF, but as we’re coming to the end of the journey, two things have stood out to me that no-one mentioned!

The first is clicky fingers. I’ve always had joints that crack easily but this has taken it to a whole new level! Reading up online, this seems to be fairly common and not something to worry about, but it has taken me totally by surprise. Apparently it’s caused by two things: fluid retention in your joints and also your joints all loosening up as your body prepares for birth.

It doesn’t bother me at all. Like I say, I’m used to cracking joints, but it was definitely a surprise to find that this was a symptom of late pregnancy.

The second surprising thing has been that my bump is almost numb to the touch!

It’s the weirdest sensation – if I touch my bump with an object (like a pencil) rather than my hand, I can sense that something is touching it but nothing more than that. I can’t tell if it’s soft or hard, hot or cold, rough or smooth.

So strange!

Again, reading up on this shows that quite a few women go through it. The explanation given seems to be that the skin over the bump is just so stretched, it goes numb. Odd!

A pesky placenta

At my 20 week scan, I was told that my placenta was quite low, though thankfully not covering the cervix at all, so I would need another scan at 32 weeks to check if it had moved up out of the way. It was explained that a low cervix can cause excessive bleeding during a natural birth, as the pressure of the baby’s head pushing against it can cause damage. If my placenta hadn’t moved by 32 weeks, a c-section might be considered.

“Don’t worry, in 90% of these cases, the placenta has moved by 32 weeks!”

Of course, it hadn’t.

At 32 weeks, the scan showed that it was roughly 3cm away from the edge of the cervix, and at the hospital I’m with, they would prefer at least 5cm.

“We’ll re-scan you at 36 weeks and make a decision then. It might have moved, but even if it hasn’t, they may think 3cm is far enough away at that point. It depends where baby’s head is.”

This is where all the confusion comes in! Everywhere seems to have different views on how far away the placenta needs to be to be considered safe! Some hospitals want it to be 5cm away, some want it to be 2cm away, and all measurements in between. It made it quite difficult to predict whether I was likely to be considered safe for a natural delivery or not.

36 weeks rolls around and we finally had our answer!

It seems to be far enough away to allow me to attempt a natural delivery. Not that we actually know how far away from the cervix the placenta is, because “baby’s head is so far down, we can’t measure it!”

Two different sonographers checked and agreed that the baby’s head is already so low down that it is below the placenta completely, which means the placenta must be far enough away, even if they can’t take a measurement in mm.

Huzzah!

So now, it’s a waiting game.

3/4 loaded

That’s right folks, I’m at the 30 week mark (as of Monday 12^th March) and little Blob is growing strong. Well, he certainly feels strong!

My current obsession is watching him move – I find it mesmerising to see my bump dance around, especially as I can feel it happening. Part of me can’t wait to meet him (so near and yet still so far) but part of me is sad the pregnancy will be ending soon because it really has been magical.

We’ve been very busy the last few weeks, trying to get the house to a state where it will be totally ready for Blob to arrive, and we’re almost there! Only thing left now is to sort and tidy the study. It’s been used as a dumping ground while we decorated everywhere else, so it needs to be put back into a usable state so that my poor husband can stop having to work at the dining table.

As far as preparing for the baby himself to arrive, there isn’t much more we need! The chest of drawers/changing table (which belonged to Blob’s Grandma in her childhood bedroom) has been restored and painted. The rocking chair we found second hand for £30 has been taken apart, re-glued and screwed together, sanded (by me – I helped!) and painted. The only thing left that we really need to do in his room now is paint a shelf and put it on the wall!

I even have my hospital bag pretty much ready to go.

A few people have told me not to worry about getting the hospital bag ready yet, and advice online says to have it by 36 weeks, but I know a few people who have had their (perfectly healthy) babies between 33 and 36 weeks, so I wanted to be prepared from 30 weeks just in case.

On a less fun note, it’s currently a Thursday morning and I’m sat on the sofa at home. This past week, I have been so utterly and completely exhausted that I spoke to the doctor about it yesterday. I know tiredness is a normal part of pregnancy but I’ve barely been able to make it through each day at work and driving home has actually felt unsafe.

The upshot of my conversation with the doctor is that she wants me to take the rest of this week off work to properly rest and she is sending me to the hospital for some blood tests.

How on earth am I going to make it working up to 38 weeks, if this is how tired I am at 30 weeks?

I understand that maternity leave/pay is something that the government and employers need time to sort out, but I’m starting to think that you have to make the decision too early. The letter with your maternity leave start date on it needs to be submitted to employers by the 25^th week of pregnancy, but that is still within the time when most people are feeling ok!

I can’t say I felt the 2^nd trimester ‘glow’ but I definitely felt physically alright at week 25 and had no idea that the extreme tiredness I felt at the start of the pregnancy would come back with quite such a vengeance! At that point, I felt I could easily work right up to 38 weeks. Now, I’m not so sure how easy that will be.

While I don’t want to have too much of my maternity leave before the baby is born, as that will take time away from my time with him, I’m starting to wonder whether I should bring my maternity leave start date forwards a bit, to maybe 36 or 37 weeks. I want to be well rested and ready for him, not exhausted and stressed. 

It’s worth thinking about.

Fertility Representation in Television

I’m going to begin today’s blog post by giving you a bit of a disclaimer in the form of some details about myself (sorry, those of you who actually know me and therefore know all of this anyway).

I am a straight, white, married woman in her late 20s, who owns her own home, and works in a professional career. I have an epileptic dog, I own a car, I’m a member of the National Trust, I’m a Labour voter (sorry Lib Dems - once bitten, twice shy, and all that).

Clearly, I have no need to be complaining about representation of people who remind me of myself in the media – plenty of straight, white women with careers and houses in film and tv! Once you dig a bit deeper into my life though, there is one area where I do not believe that people ‘like me’ are represented very well at all, and that is fertility.

As anyone who has read this blog from the beginning will know, I’m classed as ‘subfertile’, meaning that it is possible for me to conceive and carry a child, but only through medical intervention and assistance. Put another way, had I been trying to have a baby 50 years ago, it would never have happened!

Going through this fertility rollercoaster of the past almost 2 years (which I know is relatively short compared to the struggles gone through by some couples), has made my hyper-aware of how conception, pregnancy and fertility are portrayed on television.

I plan to talk about storylines from tv shows both older and recent, and while I’m sure most will know of these storylines, I’m aware that some people could be watching an older tv show (by this I mean something that is off the air now) for the first time through and not want to be spoiled!

Disclaimer 2: I am by no means claiming to be an authority on fertility storylines in the media and I know there will probably be shows that have dealt with it well, that I have never seen. This is purely a commentary of how I have been made to feel through the way fertility has been portrayed in shows that I have watched.

SPOILERS AND SPECULATION AHEAD! Do not read on if you are bothered about discussion of storylines in:

Game of Thrones

Gilmore Girls/Gilmore Girls: A Year in the Life

Call the Midwife

Friends

Jane the Virgin

Star Trek Deep Space Nine

Ok…

You were warned…

Oddly enough, the storyline that initially sparked this blog post has not actually happened yet. At this point, it’s pure speculation!

So why, I hear you ask yourself, am I including something that might not even happen?

Simply put, having seen the show and the oh-so-unsubtle foreshadowing (about as subtle as a glowing neon billboard) I’m about 99% convinced that this storyline is going to happen. If it doesn’t, then I will be more than happy to take back everything I am about to say about this particular show and story.

I am talking, of course, about Game of Thrones and the latest developments with Daenerys and Jon Snow. When last we left our incestuous duo, they were consummating their new relationship, blissfully unaware of the fact that they are in fact, aunt and nephew.

Wonderful.

Anyway, leaving aside any familial connection that makes this relationship extra squicky, the issue that I’m having is the fan speculation that their union will result in a baby. Numerous mentions have been made in the latest season about Daenerys’ need of an heir, and questions (from Jon Snow) about whether she actually has any proof she is unable to have children.

All this has led the fans to (I suspect rightly) predict that Daenerys will end up pregnant. Whether the explanation will be that she was never infertile and just previously unlucky, or that it is some kind of magic where only Jon will be able to give her a child, is anyone’s guess.

I just can’t help feeling betrayed. Daenerys has never been my favourite character, but since beginning our fertility journey, I have been fiercely proud of the way that the character has handled her infertility over the seasons of the show. Speaking as someone who’s biggest fear has been infertility since before I can remember, it gave me strength to see a strong woman being unashamed of the fact she cannot have children. She didn’t let it change her plans, she was upfront with people about it.

Now, that could all be undone.

I know that it could be argued that storylines where someone has struggled for a baby and then finally gets one, could give people hope. The problem is that this simply isn’t realistic.

(Yes, talking about realism whilst discussing a show that has dragons…)

Television is awash with storylines of unwanted, unexpected and inconvenient pregnancies, but the reality is that there are some women, some couples out there who are desperate for a child and WILL NEVER HAVE ONE. The simple truth is that despite how far science has come, medical intervention in conception fails more than it succeeds.

My husband and I have been incredibly – outstandingly – lucky. Our IVF has worked. For many people though, this is not going to be their story.

For people who are facing the prospect of never being able to have children, while stories that give hope can be wonderful and so appreciated in a time of emotional struggle, what is also needed, I believe, are stories that show that it actually isn’t going to be the end of the world if it doesn’t happen. Stories that show how hard it can be to come to terms with being childless, but where ultimately the characters are able to accept it and get through it, moving on with their lives. It could be that they accept never being parents, it could be that they choose another route, such as surrogacy or adoption. Either way, it is the kind of storyline that can resonate with couples facing infertility.

A television show that did this particularly well, on more than one occasion, is Friends. I have many problems with Friends – I think a lot of the jokes have not aged very well at all (fat shaming, slut shaming, mocking men for femininity, to name but a few) but I can honestly say that when thinking about shows that dealt with fertility issues in a confident, sympathetic and meaningful way, this was at the top of my list. And my sister’s list. And any friends I asked.

The first occasion on Friends was when Phoebe’s brother, Frank Jr, and his wife Alice are unable to have children naturally. Due to Alice’s age, although the eggs would be hers, she would not be able to carry the child, so Phoebe steps in as a surrogate.

This storyline was introduced because Lisa Kudrow had just announced that she was pregnant, and initially the writers and producers were unsure how to include her pregnancy. They thought that it might be derided by fans as a ridiculous idea and “too wacky even for Phoebe.”

On the contrary, this storyline was sympathetic to the characters, incredibly emotional, and absolutely the kind of selfless thing that Phoebe would do.

The time when she discovers how much the procedure is costing Frank and Alice, and the low success rate of 25%, is beautiful in the shock and emotion of the moment. For IVF patients, high costs and low chances of success are something we have all had to deal with, so those two considerations actually being addressed and discussed is significant.

The second fertility issue in Friends is of course, Monica and Chandler’s struggle for a baby. At the end of season 8, in the episode where Rachel gives birth to Emma, Monica and Chandler decide they would like to start trying for a baby.

Like many real-life couples, they begin with high hopes and the assumption that it will happen soon (after all – Emma was the result of a one night stand). And like so many real-life couples, it soon becomes apparent that their journey towards parenthood is not going to be easy.

Monica is a character that has always wanted to be a parent and I think this is an important point to note. She didn’t suddenly decide she wanted a baby just so they could include the infertility storyline – she had always wanted children, throughout the entire show. Like so many women out there, she was desperate for a child and it had never crossed her mind that she wouldn’t get that!

It would have been very easy for the showrunners to give Monica and Chandler a miracle pregnancy once Courtney Cox fell pregnant but I am SO glad they didn’t. Miracle pregnancies are rare when people have such severe fertility issues.

They stuck to their storyline and continued with the adoption, choosing instead to hide the actress’ pregnancy.

Monica (played by a pregnant Courtney Cox) and Chandler at the birth of their babies.

Well done. Honestly, well done.

On the other hand, a show that I would have expected to deal well with fertility issues is Call the Midwife. Generally, I have found their handling of sensitive issues to be incredibly sympathetic and caring, and although the storyline of Shelagh’s fertility begins well, it ends with a case of miracle pregnancy.

In season 2 of Call the Midwife, Shelagh (then called Sister Bernadette) discovers that she has tuberculosis, but recovers well from this and leaves her life as a nun to marry Dr Turner. In season 3, when Dr Turner and Shelagh begin to try for a baby, there is a heartbreaking episode when Shelagh believes that she has fallen pregnant, only to later find out that she isn’t. Unfortunately, the tuberculosis had damaged her fallopian tubes, meaning she would not be able to fall pregnant.

Eventually, in a wonderfully written and acted storyline, the couple accept that they will not be able to have a biological child of their own, so adopt a daughter. This process is not easy for them, and the acceptance of baby Angela as part of their family is lovely. It would have been the perfect ending to an at-times harrowing, but ultimately heart-warming story of overcoming fertility problems.

The moment at the orphanage when Shelagh and Dr Turner meet their daughter, Angela, for the first time. I cried. Lots.

Then Shelagh fell pregnant naturally and, after an admittedly difficult pregnancy, gave birth to a healthy baby boy.

Yes, it’s the ending that many couples struggling to conceive may hope will be theirs, but when you have damaged fallopian tubes, a natural pregnancy with no medical intervention is so unlikely. Maybe I’m oversensitive to this, but given how well the show has depicted so many other issues, I find it disappointing that the showrunners would go down the route of the miracle pregnancy.

To be clear, I don’t have any problem with a television couple who have struggled to conceive, being able to eventually have a child. I just wish that there were fewer cases of the miracle pregnancy and more of the realistic ‘needed-medical-intervention-to-get-there’ pregnancies.

I could honestly go on and on about the different ways tv has handled fertility, but to avoid repeating points across different shows, I’ll be brief.

Handled well:

Friends – As discussed above.

Star Trek Deep Space Nine – In later seasons, Dax and Worf decide they would like to try for a baby, but their physiology (being from two alien species) means it is likely to be extremely difficult to conceive a viable pregnancy. They enlist the help of the Doctor, who researches and runs tests, before believing he’s found something that might help them. Unfortunately we never get to see the result of this due to SPOILERS but I think the storyline was sensitively done up to that point.

Started well but (potentially) disappointing:

Game of Thrones – As discussed above.

Call the Midwife – As discussed above.

Handled badly:

Jane the Virgin – At the start of Jane the Virgin, a drunk doctor mixes up Jane, who is there for a smear test and Petra, who is at the doctor to be inseminated with her husband’s frozen sperm (he previously had cancer and had sperm frozen before his treatment). Jane is accidentally inseminated and of course, falls pregnant. I understand that for the whole show to work, this had to be the storyline, and soon the writers make sure we know that Petra is not a good person and her relationship with her husband is on the rocks, but honestly, that doesn’t make this any better. A young couple’s only chance of having children together due to his now infertility is squandered because a drunk doctor accidentally inseminates someone else with the sperm. I’m not even going to explain why that makes me angry. It should be obvious.

Gilmore Girls– One of my favourite tv shows, so it pains me to put is in this category, but unfortunately the one thing it really doesn’t do well are fertility problems. After Sookie gives birth to her second child, she sends her husband, Jackson, to have a vasectomy so that they cannot have any more children. Problem 1: She does this against his wishes. Problem 2: He doesn’t go through with it but tells her that he did. Problem 3: She believes he is now infertile so comes off the pill without bothering to tell him. Result: Another baby. I do consider this to be a fertility issue, as one half of a couple believes the other to be infertile and as such doesn’t take the necessary precautions. As much as I can see the comedy value in her husband realising she’s pregnant before she does because he’s the only one who knows it’s possible, it really disappointed me that the show went in this direction, because honest and open communication is so important, especially about reproductive issues!

Gilmore Girls: A Year In The Life – At the start of these 4 episodes, we learn that Lorelai and Luke are considering surrogacy to enable them to have a child together. I initially liked this idea, because the age of the characters would mean that it would be unrealistic for them to have a child naturally. Unfortunately, I felt that the way the storyline was handled was incredible insensitive. Luke suddenly became stupid, unable to understand the process and didn’t seem to be taking the whole thing seriously at all. Lorelai suddenly became emotionally detached from it. I didn’t get the impression that they were a team about it, or really knew what they would be letting themselves in for, and this is such a shame because they’re a wonderful couple who were supposed to have worked through those communication issues in the original series. Infertility, whether due to the kind of medical issues I have, or age like Lorelai, is something that needs to be taken seriously by the people involved and treatment CANNOT be undertaken if communication between partners is not clear. I suppose I just felt like this storyline was being used for the laughs at Luke’s repeated belief he had to sleep with the surrogate.

Well this has been a very long post and I suspect I lost some of you along the way so if you did make it to this point – congratulations!

I know that representation of fertility issues is not hot on the agenda of tv showrunners at the moment and there are a lot bigger representation problems to be solved, but I do think that it doesn’t take very much to highlight the issues in a sensitive way. Deep Space Nine made very little of the story, but did it well. Friends made it into larger storylines, but did so in a way that kept the comedy and entertainment without cheapening the issue of infertility. 

It can be done. 

Going through fertility problems is stressful, exhausting and lonely. Sometimes just one character or story that you can relate to can bring so much comfort. I don’t think it’s too much to ask that television writers consider that when they think of these storylines. 

Symptoms, scans and something-of-a-bump!

So a lot has happened in the past few weeks!

Being discharged from the fertility clinic was actually quite scary. Despite how daunting it can be going through fertility treatment, the staff at the clinic always made sure that the next steps were clearly explained, we knew who to call if we had questions or worries, and the familiar faces that we saw each time were a comfort.

Starting out somewhere new is scary! No matter how much I’d read online about what to expect from appointments, it’s been a massive source of anxiety for me.

What would my midwife be like? Would I be lectured for my weight? Would staff know much about the IVF process we’d been through?

First answer – my midwife seems lovely. She’s a tiny lady from Yorkshire, is nearing retirement and only works 2 days a week. Only issue was that she calculated my due date incorrectly, but this has since been sorted out so I’m not worried.

Second answer – neither my midwife, nor the doctor I saw at the hospital seem concerned about my weight. The doctor’s exact words were “honestly, you’re not that big!”

Third answer – still to be determined how much people know about IVF, but thankfully so far, they all seem to be taking my word for it when I’ve given them the information, and everyone is very excited when they realise that this is our first cycle.

In terms of symptoms, I’ve actually had a fairly easy time of it so far this pregnancy. The most overwhelming thing has been the tiredness.

Bone-deep, utter exhaustion.

I don’t know how to explain the extent of the tiredness to someone who’s never experienced it! I suppose the closest comparison is the complete lack of energy and inability to move that you get when you have the flu.

Nausea has been my constant companion for about 5 weeks now, but I’ve only actually been sick 3 times, so it could have been a lot worse!

Sore boobs? Ceaseless!

Appetite? Totally gone for a while but slowly starting to return now.

Like I say, it’s actually been relatively easy for me, aside from the tiredness.

This all, of course, leads me to yesterday. Yesterday, I had my “12 week” scan (yes, I know I’m actually 13 weeks – give me a chance!).

For those who don’t know, what is colloquially called the 12 week scan can actually take place anywhere between 11 and 14 weeks. Its purpose is to check that the baby is developing properly, determine a due date, and to screen for conditions such as Down’s Syndrome.

For me, the due date was pretty much a formality because there can be no confusion or uncertainty around when the egg was fertilised – we even have laboratory evidence to prove the date! Still, it was reassuring when the sonographer said that she’d put me at 13 weeks and 1 day, which fits perfectly with the IVF dates.

Nothing could have prepared me for that scan.

I figured it wouldn’t be that emotional, given that I’d already had a scan at 7 weeks.

Oooh boy, was I wrong!

First emotion – relief when I saw the baby was still there!

Second emotion – anxiety until I noticed the little flickery heart.

My baby!

Third emotion – there is no word in English for how it felt when the baby suddenly started moving around. Absolutely incredible, magical… these, and other clichés, are the only way I can explain it but they don’t even come close.

I could have watched it wriggling around all day.

Fourth emotion – excitement. Obvious, I know, but feeling that made me realise something.

Until this point, as happy and relieved as I’ve been, I haven’t actually been letting myself feel excited about this baby. Possibly because it’s been through IVF, I’ve been unable to relax and let myself believe it’s actually happening.

I haven’t had any cramps, spotting, or other terrifying symptoms, so logically I knew that the baby was still there, but I’ve heard so many horror stories of getting to the 12 week scan and there being no heartbeat, that I had almost convinced myself that’s what would happen to us.

“Can we buy things for it yet?”

“No”

“Can we tell people yet?”

“No”

“Do you want to go and look at baby clothes when we go shopping?”

“No”

No matter who asked me (all those questions have come from multiple sources), my answer was always no. I desperately wanted to be excited and buy things. I wanted to look at baby things. I wanted to be able to tell everyone.

All I could think was that if we did tell more people, that would simply be more people to tell if we got to the scan and things had gone horribly wrong.

Thankfully, I have a wonderful and understanding family, who completely understood why I was determined to wait until after the scan!

After living with those feelings for a few weeks, they had become totally normal and I barely even noticed that I was having them, so it was a bit of a revelation to realise just how little I’d been allowing myself to enjoy the pregnancy so far!

Well no longer!

Now, I’m buzzing! I’m telling everyone! I can’t stop staring at our scan photos!

Tiny nose, long legs, absolutely beautiful already 💖

Little bit, slightly, somewhat of a bump, there!

I finally feel pregnant and actually… I’m starting to look it!

First scan

9 + 3

That’s officially me!

(Ooh accidental rhyme).

It’s a little late but things have been rather exhausting for the last few weeks – on Wednesday 2 weeks ago (4^th October), I was officially discharged from the fertility clinic and am now 9 weeks and 3 days pregnant!

For most natural pregnancies, the first scan takes place at 12 weeks but as this has been through IVF, the clinic had to do a scan at 7 weeks. This is for a number of reasons, including the need to confirm that a bun is indeed in the oven, how many buns, and whether it has implanted in the correct place.

If all is well, you’re discharged into the main maternity system.

So, all is well with me!

On that Wednesday, I saw my baby for the first time. It’s really there! All tiny and implanted in the right place, with a tiny flickering heart!

There it is! The black area is the amniotic sac and inside that, is the little bean-shaped, curled up baby!

Honestly, it felt so incredible and surreal that I still can’t quite believe it really happened.

I think the strangest moment was when the nurse called it ‘the baby’ rather than ‘the embryo’. All along, everything has been about the eggs, then embryos – this was the first time that one of the healthcare professionals has actually called it a baby.

Wow.

We’re having a baby!

The Stickiest Thing Since Sticky The Stick Insect Got Stuck On A Sticky Bun.

I’m growing a human! Blob stuck!

After so long with disappointment after disappointment, constant negative tests and then all the results of the investigations done earlier in the year, this was a sight I honestly never thought I’d see!

I know that once you begin IVF, everything changes because the circumstances are different but there was still a big part of me that believed we were unlikely to ever be that lucky.

Confession time: I was a tad naughty and did a home pregnancy test the day before my official test at the clinic.

I know, I know.

It may sound like excuses but here was my reasoning.

A home pregnancy test measures the level of hCG (human chorionic gonadotropin) in your urine, as this is one of the hormones produced by your body when you become pregnant, and the levels increase each day. The main reason they ask you not to take a test early during IVF treatment is that the ‘trigger shot’ you take to release the eggs before egg collection is actually an injection of hCG, and can stay in your system for up to 14 days!

The official test done at the clinic takes place 18 days after that trigger shot, meaning any hCG detected must be from a pregnancy, not left over from the trigger. Consequently, were you to take a test at home a few days early, there is a chance of getting a false positive, with the pregnancy test detecting the remains of the trigger. There is, of course, also the possibility that you could get a false negative!

I reasoned that the day before the official test was still, at 17 days after the trigger, outside that danger window of a false positive, and that if the test was negative (which to be honest, is what I was expecting), I would be able to prepare myself before facing the nurses and other staff at the clinic.

I used the test that the clinic had given me in case I decided to test at home on the Wednesday morning. The waiting time was 3 minutes, and before even a minute had elapsed, I could see the shadow of a second line forming.

Immediately, I started shaking and forced myself to look away because I didn’t want to believe it was real.

I have NEVER experienced a slower 2 minutes and 15 seconds.

Sure enough, both the control and results line were still there when I looked back at the 3 minute mark.

When I went back into the bedroom to wake my husband and tell him, I couldn’t actually speak so I just waved the test around, gave him a massive grin and a thumbs up.

He agreed (after searching for his glasses and reminding me that without switching on a light, he had no hope of seeing the test) that there were definitely two lines, though the result line was considerably fainter.

Yay! It had worked! I was pregnant!

Except… that’s when the doubts started to creep in. What if it was still the trigger shot? What if it was the fact it was a blue-dye test, which I had read about on forums giving false positives? What if we were both simple wanting to see a line where there wasn’t one?

I think deep down, I knew the test was right, but there was still that disbelieving part of me that was trying to find any excuse I could for it to be wrong, because I refused to let myself believe that we could have been that lucky.

I did spend Tuesday alternating between relief and doubt, so on Tuesday evening I popped to the shop and bought a First Response test, with the idea of taking it on Wednesday morning before the official test at the clinic later that day.

The result was immediate. Both lines appeared instantly and the results line was showing much darker just that one day later.

Felt faaairly sure that it was an accurate result!

The blue test at the top was the one I took on Tuesday, the one below was on Wednesday - you can see 2 lines on the first one but it's obvious how much clearer the result was just one day later!

Still, we went to the clinic, they did yet another test and suddenly it became official. Our first round of IVF had worked and I was pregnant!

We had many hugs from the nurses, some of whom cried. I suppose this is why they’re in that job – for times like that, when someone gets a positive result.

Looking back on the last few weeks, there were definitely signs that it had worked, but I was so determined not to read anything into symptoms, because so many of them could have been caused by the progesterone I’m taking, or even could have been PMS!

The dog has become very clingy and protective of me, my breasts have been so tender that I’ve cried, and I’ve continued being emotional at the slightest thing. None of it conclusive, but looking back, it all makes sense.

We’re booked in for a scan at the clinic in 2 ½ weeks, to check that the pregnancy is progressing well, the baby is implanted in a safe place, and whether it is a single or multiple pregnancy. As they only transferred one embryo, I’d imagine it’s a single, but there is always a chance of twins so they do have to check.

If all seems well at the scan, we’ll be discharged from the clinic and will enter the main maternity system.

I do plan to carry this blog on, even though it will (hopefully) now be about my pregnancy rather than specifically IVF. Hope you stick with me!

So there you have it – it’s early days but Blob stuck!