This is the last post in my series all about our family, and how we struggled to conceive a healthy child. We’ve ended up with 3 as you know, but I’ve been pregnant 5 times and have given birth to 5 children. If you missed any of the other posts, you can catch up with Amy’s story here, or our journey for a healthy child here.
So, after having Phoebe I had it all. I had a boy and a girl and both healthy. It wasn’t easy, because she was a girl and all our girls so far had been diagnosed with Tay-Sachs, no-one quite believed she was healthy. A lot of people thought and commented that it only affected girls, but I knew from my research that it’s an equal opportunities disease and affects both sexes, it was just coincidence. She looked so much like Amy as a baby, this is them side by side at the same age:
Looking at them here you can tell that Phoebe’s face has so much more tone and animation, but when we had Amy we had no comparison, so we didn’t know anything was wrong at that point.
My husband struggled as he didn’t want to bond too closely with her in case we lost her, something I didn’t know at the time. I was thrilled to have a girl again and get pink things and just hoped for the best. I also trusted the CVS we’d had done to an extent. I had 2 children close together in age, 19 months between them and it was hard work! She did sleep well though and was and still is a complete sweetheart and so easy going. In fact, she often gets ignored which I feel bad for, because William is quite needy and Daniel, well he’s practically a twoligan. Our relationship was under strain, but once she got past 6 months he showed more interest and when she was 18 months and we moved house, things improved and we’re stronger than ever and a solid family unit.
I always knew about that last little embryo in the freezer and it played on my mind. Did I want another child? We’d have to fund the embryo transfer and IVF cycle ourselves, could we afford it? If I didn’t have that option would I have another child? When people asked me if our family was complete, I’d say ‘Well, we have a frozen embryo which we’ll probably use at one point, but I’m not sure.’ I thought about defrosting it, not using it, or just storing it indefinitely. My husband, if asked, would probably have preferred to leave it. In the end, as I’d made William and Phoebe and witnessed the embryo stage, I couldn’t just have it destroyed, there was a little life there waiting in the cosmic waiting room. If it didn’t survive the thaw, didn’t implant or there were any problems at any stage, that was that. Complete family.
In early 2014 we decided to go for it, we had enough money (in our overdraft at least), and I started the medication to down regulate my cycle and had the necessary scans. I had my coil removed and had a cycle before starting. The date was set for the transfer. On the day, we set off and we hadn’t got far, when we got a call from the IVF clinic. The embryo hadn’t made it after being defrosted. It was showing no signs of life. As I type this, tears are rolling down my face, which surprises me – for an embryo. A bundle of cells. But it’s potential was so much more than that. I’d said that if anything happened that was the end of that. I said it in the car. ‘Oh well, that’s that then.’ Inside I was disappointed. We’d told friends and family this time, because last time with Phoebe, it was so hard keeping it a secret and I felt unsupported. I don’t regret that decision, it was nice to have friends and family to sound off to. I told everyone vehemently that that was it. No more babies. After 2 days and some insomnia fueled thoughts, I was desperate for another child and convinced myself we should try naturally again. We definitely couldn’t afford another round of full IVF. We got some of the money back after the last time, but it wasn’t enough and to put ourselves in debt for something that may not work wasn’t sensible, or if it worked, increasing our debt and our family was even less sensible. I eventually broached it with DH, he wasn’t keen. He didn’t want to go through any more heartache, or see me go through the same. I was devastated.
Here’s the thing.
I never went back on contraception.
I told him that. He was fully aware! He used to keep buying condoms, which I didn’t want to use, and avoided spreading his seed inside me if you know what I mean! I was tracking my ovulation so I knew when the best times to pounce were. Let’s just say I know exactly which day and time it was! When I got the positive pregnancy test I was so nervous about telling him I avoided it for a couple of days. When I told him, he was actually OK with it, he knew what he was doing and was pleased, although scared, like me. I had a good feeling about it though. We didn’t tell a soul. More secrets!
Not long after, round about the time when the heart starts beating, I was in the car on the way out somewhere, when I felt a warm spot low down, in my uterus. It was as if the baby’s life force was starting and spreading, merging with me. Now, I’m a cynical realist, and I don’t believe in life after death, reincarnation, ghosts, clairvoyancy or anything like that, but there are moments when I feel things. Anyway, I took it as a good sign. I tried not to get my hopes up, but you do anyway, like women who’ve had recurrent miscarriages, each one feels like the one that will stick. I arranged the CVS (chorionic villus sampling), which would tell us if the baby was affected with Tay-Sachs disease and could also test for Downs syndrome, and got on with life.
The test went as smooth as it could. When we went to St Thomas’ they asked us whether it was planned, and simultaneously he said no and I said yes! We all laughed. I waited the tense few days for the results. It was good news: a healthy baby! A carrier, like the others, but healthy. We’d actually made our own healthy baby! I was over the moon. I told everyone, they were all shocked that we’d done it ourselves after saying that was it. I dreaded telling my parents, as my Dad wasn’t keen on me having a third child, he thought we had enough going on. My Mum was happy for me, as she knew it was what I wanted. My Dad was sceptical but of course he was pleased. It mattered even more to me because they help me with childcare – of course at any point I knew things could change and I couldn’t rely on them forever. By the way, my Dad absolutely adores Daniel now and can’t imagine life without him.
My pregnancy was hard going, we found out we were having a boy and were thrilled, secretly I wanted another boy, I don’t know why. I also had a feeling he was a boy. William had hypospadias as a baby and I think I wanted to experience what it was like without that, although I was worried this baby might have it. Around 20 weeks I developed PGP (pelvic girdle pain, or SPD) and coccyx pain which left me unable to do a lot. I tried not to moan as I was super grateful to be pregnant, but it was hard. At 33 weeks I had high blood pressure, and a scan revealed he was on the small side. I was developing pre-eclampsia. I’d avoided gestational diabetes this time and now this! From then on in I had regular check ups. At 36 weeks I stopped work and then it was the Christmas holidays! He was due on the 15th January, I was looking forward to when the schools went back and having a couple of days a week when Phoebe was at nursery to finish off the nursery. We’d done up the baby’s room and put William and Phoebe in together.
Between Christmas and New year, I was trying to get things sorted. I was putting up curtains and whizzing around, my husband meanwhile was carrying on with his Christmas festivities and had his friend round to drink and eat cheese. We’d been to the hospital that morning and had him monitored, the week before I’d started Blood Pressure medication. I was in a bad mood, giving DH the evil eye all the time and making underhand comments. I went to bed early in a huff. I woke up at 2 am with mild contractions, and at 4.19am I gave birth on our living room floor! For the full birth story in all it’s drama, you can read it here. The Christmas tree was still up! Our little Daniel, conceived upstairs and born downstairs, continues to delight and amuse, a wonderful addition to our family and he’s made it complete. It’s hard work having 3 and going back to toddlerhood again is mental but also wonderful to get to do it all again. I don’t have any urge for any more babies, thank God! DH is pleased.
If you’ve had similar experiences to me or you’d like to ask me a question about anything I’ve been through with my pregnancies and issues, feel free to comment or send me a message. I have felt incredibly alone at times, so if I can be of any help to anyone I’d like that.
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