Chapter Nine - The Straw That Broke the Camel's Back
It was the end of June, and the fertility clinic we’d been recommended was hosting a virtual Open Day.
COVID had made some things more accessible. From Sicily, we could attend UK events online. I had more contact with colleagues and friends as everyone moved to Zoom. We could even get a jump start on our family plans before heading back.
At the Open Day, we listened to them talk about what they did, how they did it, and why they did it. Afterwards, we booked a preliminary consultation for the last day of June.
One last Sicily adventure
In the meantime, we took the opportunity to see stunning sites before international travel opened back up. We visited Agrigento with friends, the Valley of the Temples with barely a soul in sight. We went to Rome and snapped photos of the Spanish Steps with about six people on them.
It was incredible. Italy and Sicily are stunning anyway, but without tourists crowding the view? Even better.
We had a few more adventures and celebrated Marco’s birthday before heading back. I was feeling hopeful again. My hair was growing longer, the tufts becoming more manageable. My bowels were in great shape. And we’d had a positive initial consultation with the fertility clinic.
Hope was creeping back in.
The journey home and the first scan
We headed back to the UK at the beginning of July. This time, we managed to get the ferry from Palermo to Genoa rather than face another 30-hour marathon drive. Thank god.
A week later, we went to the clinic for our first consultation.
I was very cautious during COVID. Face mask constantly. Organic hand sanitizer always applied. Latex gloves. Not being in enclosed spaces with anyone except Marco.
Looking back, maybe it was over-cautious. But at the time, it felt necessary. COVID felt like another obstacle threatening our chances.
Someone close to me asked why we didn’t just go the donor egg route. The reasoning was that the statistics would be more in our favour, so it made more sense.
I just wanted the chance to try once with my own eggs.
I went back to Houri for acupuncture and continued with Jessica.
The first scan was 13 July.
Vindication (again)
I had a few eggs. Not loads, but remember, it’s not about quantity, it’s about quality.
What I had done was ovulate. The fertility doctor could see the corpus luteum. I had a viable womb lining to hold a pregnancy.
In the words of the doctor: I had a “beautifully healthy reproductive system.”
I just had to wait a couple of weeks to see if I menstruated.
I was over the moon. It was everything I could do not to skip out of the fertility clinic.
During the wait, I had routine fertility blood tests. My FSH and LH were back down to fertility-clinic-treating levels. My oestrogen levels were good. My AMH was 0.4, which wasn’t great, but I knew people who’d had successful IVF with lower.
Again, quality, not quantity.
These were the first bloods taken while my bowels were functioning well. It was also the start of my suspicions that my bowel issues were linked to more than just cortisol.
I booked an appointment with Jessica, who prescribed something to support what I was already taking and help with a successful IVF cycle.
Hope and positivity reigned.
But my cycle still didn’t show up.
The second scan
A few weeks later, we went back to the clinic for another scan. Hope and positivity had been dwindling.
I didn’t have quite as many eggs this time. My womb lining had shrunk back.
The scan confirmed it – I wasn’t crazy. I was still cycling, but my body wasn’t letting it go.
The fertility doctor prescribed a two-week course of progesterone to kick-start the release.
Hope and positivity reigned again.
I remember taking a walk with one of my good friends up on Devil’s Dyke, bubbling with positivity. This was it. It was going to happen. I’d menstruate, and all would be well with my little corner of the world.
There were no doubts in my mind.
The first period in over a year
After the course of tablets finished, my menstrual cycle arrived.
I never thought I’d be so happy to see my period, but I was. It was the first one in over a year.
I booked my first IVF cycle scan for 27 August, 2020 – which should have been day 5, just before my 42nd birthday.
My ovaries were quiet. My oestrogen was low. LH was high.
It was not a good start to the IVF cycle. But I still wasn’t ready to let go of hope, so I contacted Jessica for support.
The exhaustion of hope
I’ve got tenacity pouring out of my eyeballs. If there’s a modicum of hope, I’ll hold onto it.
It’s a trait that’s necessary on a fertility journey, but it’s exhausting. You just go through cycle after cycle of hope and crushing disappointment until you reach a resolution, however that may look.
I had my birthday on the beach a few days later, out in the open with some of my closest friends.
On the way down, I was letting off steam, ranting about not being heard. About the challenges, the stress, the uncertainty it had caused. About not being listened to or taken seriously.
I was angry.
Marco tried to comfort me by saying everything would be fine.
It made me angrier.
My reaction annoyed him.
I’d previously told him that all I needed was to know everything would be okay and a hug. In that instance, I’d forgotten what I’d said, and his response didn’t satisfy me.
When your rock doesn't know what to say
See, it’s difficult for the people around you when you’re going through something like this.
Marco was standing by my side. He was my rock, my unwavering rock. But he was in uncharted territory, trying to empathize with something he had no reference point for. He always supported anything I wanted to try, no matter how crazy it sounded to him.
Though I didn’t get to the point of trying to steam my vag.
This journey is unique to you. How you feel, what you need, and how you react change constantly. It’s unpredictable, even to you, even to those on similar journeys. It’s unique to you, which makes it difficult for those closest to you to know what to say or how best to support you.
I had a follow-up scan a couple of days later.
My ovaries were still quiet.
The shrug that said everything
I’d been researching possible reasons – PCOS, amenorrhea. I asked the fertility doctor what could be happening and whether anything like this could be the problem.
She just shrugged.
That was when it crystallized for me: fertility doctors are specialists in getting you pregnant. If there are underlying issues, they just don’t know. Or it’s not in their remit to help or advise.
We were back to square one.
Back to the computer searching for answers. Marco came across the Period Repair Manual: Natural Treatments for Better Hormones and Better Periods by Lara Briden ND. If you’re at the beginning of your fertility journey, I’d definitely recommend reading this, even if you just think your period is off. (This is not sponsored or an affiliate link.)
I was due my next cycle, so I was gathering all the information I could.
I emailed Jessica. I thought maybe I needed to balance my hormones. I hadn’t noticed any change with the new medication she’d prescribed, and I was beginning to worry about ovarian fatigue, the latest concern I’d uncovered in my research.
Jessica wanted me to stop taking both medications. Give my body a break. It had been two years of taking everything to optimise and support my fertility. Maybe it needed a rest.
My cycle didn’t come.
I booked a scan at the fertility clinic.
My ovaries were a ghost town.
Alone in the waiting room
I was left sitting in the waiting room. Alone, because Marco wasn’t allowed in due to COVID restrictions. I’d been told I had to wait for a nurse to talk to me.
I was sitting there, alone, in tears, when the nurse finally called me in.
The fertility doctor didn’t see the point in continuing. She wanted to talk to me about donor eggs.
It really wasn’t the time for that talk.
I was absolutely crushed. In pieces on the floor. And the only person I wanted to see, to be comforted and held by, was sitting outside in the car, not allowed to come in.
Exhausted, physically and emotionally, by the emotional rollercoaster of the last few months. I was on the floor. And yet again, I had to pick myself back up.
Yet again.
This was 1 October.
The final slap in the face? The fertility clinic held back £500 for a “cancelled cycle,” even though we’d already paid for the treatment we’d received. I had to argue and point out that it was the doctor who cancelled the cycle before they refunded me.
Finding a way forward
It was Houri who helped Marco pick me up this time.
She introduced the idea of medicinal mushrooms and recommended a guy called Martin Powell. He wasn’t taking on patients at the time and pointed me toward Dr. Trevor Wing at the Women’s Natural Health Clinic in Twickenham.
We made our first appointment for 15 October.
I wasn’t done fighting yet.