A woman’s personal account of infertility

This was a very private and painful experience which affected me emotionally and in my self-esteem.

I questioned myself and my identity as a woman. I often thought, “Didn’t God create women to bare children? To be nurturers. What then, is wrong with me?”

Let me start from the beginning…

A few years ago I was doing my practicum at a clinic in Australia called Repromed. It is one of the most advanced infertility clinics in the world, helping thousands of couples to conceive every year. One day, I decided to take one of the free blood tests available at the clinic that determine a person’s fertility. The test measures the age of a woman’s ovaries to see if it corresponds to her chronological age. This may sound strange, but sometimes a woman’s ovaries can “age” faster than normal.

I waited a long time to hear the results of the test, and began to worry if something was wrong. When I heard that the doctor wanted to see me, I felt sick. So many scenarios were spinning through my head and I remember thinking, “Don’t be silly, this is nothing. There isn’t anything wrong with you.”

When I eventually saw the doctor he gave me the bad news.

My ovaries had aged significantly, and I was told that if I was planning to have children, I should have them soon.

The first thing that I thought was, “Oh no! I have so many things that I still want to do in life. I want to get my practice up and running, finish my studies, travel…” To have a baby at this time of my life would really interfere with my plans. Then I began to wonder what life would be like if I never had kids, and I couldn’t bear the thought of an empty home for the rest of my life. I decided then that I would make any sacrifices necessary to have children as soon as possible.

To make matters worse, my husband was in South Africa whilst I was in Australia and every time I spoke to him on the phone all I could do was cry. He felt so helpless, and so did I. Even the friends that I was staying with in Australia felt helpless. All they could do was try to encourage me with words. But as anyone who has gone through this kind of experience knows, words seem very feeble when your future is on the line. I was still trying to come to terms with changing my life plans and having a baby so soon. And in the back of my mind there was this little thought that kept popping up, “What if you can’t have kids?”

Seven weeks later I returned home to South Africa and immediately booked an appointment with one of the top infertility doctors in the country. After showing him all of my previous test results he suggested I start treatment urgently. I was already 38 years old at the time, and so my eggs were much older.

Then the roller coaster ride began...

Our first option was artificial insemination (AI). I was injected with hormones and took tablets to trigger ovulation. I then had to go for a checkup so that the doctors could count how many eggs my ovaries had released.

According to the doctors, everything looked great. My husband was also checked out, and he had to produce a ‘sample’ which was used in the AI procedure. I had to lie back for about ten minutes and take it slowly for the rest of the day. I was so anxious to get the whole thing right that I went straight home and lay on my back with my legs high up in the air (like you see on movies) just to make sure that the little guys would find their way.

We had to wait 14 days after the insemination before the doctors could take a blood test

The “waiting to find out” days were the most restless, nail-biting days of my life. So many things were going through my mind that I could hardly sleep. All I could pray was, “Oh please God, please let there be a baby inside me.”

I tried to look for the pregnancy signs, “Am I feeling nauseous?” “Do my breasts feel different?” When the two weeks were eventually up I went for the test. Later that morning I got a phone call to say that I was not pregnant.

I can’t really even put into words what I felt in that moment

I just kept thinking, “Why? I did everything right, how can this be?” I called my best friend who took me out for coffee but I just couldn’t stop crying the whole day. I was so devastated that I almost wanted to give up trying for a baby.

Later that week I called my doctor and he suggested we try in-vitro fertilization (IVF) but my husband and I were overwhelmed by the costs. We decided to give AI one more try.

The whole cycle started over again – injections, medication, counting my cycle days, going for scans.

The trigger injections that release the egg must be done at very specific times so I would have to go to the hospital during the work day, sometimes in the evenings and once even on a Sunday night. The Infertility clinic suggested that I go for the injections at the maternity ward – “seeing that I would be there in 9 months’ time”.

I tried to gain as much knowledge about the situation as possible

I went on the internet and read hundreds of blogs about other women’s experiences. I never thought about adding my own thoughts and experiences to the blogs because I am an extremely private person, but reading about the pain that others had been through made me feel like I “wasn’t the only one.”

I went to the hospital for the second insemination and waited another two agonising weeks for my results.

Negative.

I started wondering if all the grieving and heartache was really worth it

I was such an emotional wreck, crying all the time and doubting myself as a woman. My friends didn’t know how to handle the situation either – some would say to me “relax, it will happen,” others would tell me about someone they knew who had gone through the same process and eventually conceived. But these were just words, and although I knew that they were supposed to be comforting, I just didn’t feel any peace. I felt like nobody except my husband could understand the pain I was going through because he shared the pain with me.

Eventually my husband and I decided to take the plunge and try IVF. The financial burden was huge – that kind of money doesn’t just fall out of the sky – but we made a plan and committed to the IVF. My husband encouraged me and said, “If we don’t try it once, how will we ever know?”

I agreed. This was our last chance.

The IVF treatment was even worse than the AI treatment

My husband had to inject me in the stomach every morning, and every single morning I would just lie there crying, “Why are we doing this?”

Eventually the doctors said that I was ready and the sperm and eggs were put together at the clinic. Medically, everything looked great. I had nine eggs and the doctors chose the best “swimmers”. Everyday the doctor called me to tell me how the embryos were doing. On the day of transplant only two embryos survived but the doctor said that they were grade A – the best you can have.

I thought, “Wow, this is it! I’m going to have a baby. Maybe even two!” I was thinking of baby names and decorating ideas. Our garage was full of baby things that my sister had given to me, a cot, baby chair and loads of cloths. I stopped drinking wine and tried to be completely healthy. No serious exercise (in case they fell out!) healthy food, lots of relaxation.

When I went for the third blood test, I was picturing all my family and friends congratulating me on my pregnancy. I was so excited!

Finally the call came. I was not pregnant. Again.

I spent the entire weekend in bed. I couldn’t speak to anybody. I didn’t even answer the phone because the last thing I wanted to hear was “I’m so sorry.” I mourned for myself and my husband and our baby that we would never have. I felt as if I was living in a black hole.

That was several years ago.

Where does it leave me now?

Firstly, the meaning of sex has changed. Before, I always had a thought in the back of my mind saying “Maybe this is the one. Maybe you’ll get pregnant now.” That thought has gone.

I still grieve, and I still feel some pain whenever I hear of a family member or friend being pregnant.

I’ve tried to fill the void in my heart with my animals which I treat as if they were my kids. They are truly loved! And spoiled! But at least my love is going somewhere.

When I’m feeling really sorry for myself, I think of the other stories that I’ve read and heard that are similar to mine, and I think, “Wow, maybe mine wasn’t the worst experience out there.”

I remember one of the ladies that I met whilst doing in-vitro. She had also struggled to conceive and in-vitro was her last chance. I was so jealous the day that she told me she was pregnant. I was happy for her too, but that thought of “Oh, why couldn’t it be me?” was there. A few weeks later, she called me on the phone. She was in tears. She had lost the baby. Sometimes I think that I’m better off because I never had to deal with losing a baby.

I’m sharing my story in the hope of helping others deal with their own pain and heartache in this area.

The future?

By redirecting your energy and caring, mothering heart towards something else – like helping others – you can start to rebuild yourself. It has taken a lot of time, heartache and tears to get to this place, but I’m confident that my story will help at least one or two other woman out there.

Finally, if you have been through a similar experience, I hope that you will realise you are not alone. You are a beautiful woman that God created and you are no less of a woman because you can’t conceive. Remember, a woman is not defined by whether or not she can have children. A woman is defined by the person that she is and how she portrays her confidence in herself.