I have always wanted a baby. It’s what I structured everything in my life around. There is plenty of coverage in the media about the age of conception and the difficulties people can have so I knew when we got to that point in our life, we needed to be healthy and prepared. And we were. Active, eating healthily, taking folic acid. All the right things.

After a year of trying with no luck, I knew at the age of 34 that we didn’t have time on our side. My GP was very understanding, immediately did the initial blood tests etc and referred me to the Assisted Reproduction Unit at the hospital (ARU). My husbands GP did the same for him. I can’t remember how long it took for an available appointment. All I know is when you are at this stage, even a week seems like an eternity, another month is another failure, another lost chance. We

didn’t really know what to expect at the first appointment and didn’t really know who to ask. This isn’t generally something you chat to your friends about down the pub. Some research on the good old internet told us to prepare for some intrusive questions and to feel a little overwhelmed. They were right!

We came away from the appointment with a lot of questions and armed with an envelope full of leaflets and information. I sat down and read every bit of it and cried. The cost of IVF treatment was prohibitive and not something we could afford on our own. We decided to take a step back and try Intra Uterine Insemination (IUI) first. Two cycles failed. I spent all my spare time researching on the internet and pouring over forums as we still didn’t really know who, if anyone, we could talk to.

IVF was now our only option. We bit the bullet and talked to our parents about our situation and they very kindly offered to help. (They had no idea we were even trying for a baby at this point). We started our first cycle. I flew through it with no ill effects, other than feeling like a bruised pin cushion. Even the large amount of hormones I was pumping into myself didn’t seem to affect me (at least not that my husband has ever admitted to me!). I had flexi time at work so could fit in the myriad of appointments for blood tests and scans and monitoring without any problem. Then we were handed over to the Lister clinic with our sheet of contact details and our London adventure began.

Once the treatment in London was complete we were handed back to the Jersey team and the wait to test began. It was positive! This is easy I thought…. (I would later smile as I looked back at the naivety of those words!). Then came another wait until at 6.5 weeks we had our first scan. We gasped and grinned as we saw a heartbeat. Sadly, that heartbeat was too slow. After what I can only describe as an agonising two week wait (although that word doesn’t seem enough to describe it) our worst fears were confirmed. I had miscarried.

We went on to have another 8 cycles of IVF and have experienced many of the trial and tribulations of fertility treatment. I have had a range of supporting treatments, some controversial, including acupuncture, counselling, endometrial scratch, intralipids and genetic testing. The only way I can describe the fertility journey is that it’s a rollercoaster. You are constantly lurching from a high to a low and back again – sometimes in relatively short periods of time. The pain from seeing babies, or just prams, or other people’s pregnancy announcements can be intense.

It’s not really jealousy as such – you are happy for them but sad for you at the same time and it hurts. The only thing that keeps you going is hope.

In total I have had 8 positive pregnancy tests. 4 were very early losses – within a few days. 3 were miscarriages at scan / heartbeat stage. And 1 resulted in our amazing little boy, James.

On that 9th and final cycle, everything seemed to go wrong. From hormone surges, to failed genetic testing and slow embryo development. We had almost entirely given up and were going through the motions with our last shred of hope. We couldn’t financially (we’d spent around £65,000), physically or emotionally go through any more. We can’t really make anyone who hasn’t been through it understand just how much of a miracle it is that he is here.

On the morning of our first scan at 6.5 weeks I had a small amount of spotting and was convinced it was all over. I nearly cried as I walked past the antenatal department on the way to ARU. But there he was on the scan, waving his little stubby arms and legs about! The relief in the room from both us and the ARU team was palpable.

After everything was given the green light at our 8.5 week scan we were passed over to the Maternity Unit to start a ‘normal’ pregnancy journey, which felt very strange. We had come from a place where we had a team of people that knew us so well they were like family. In fact they knew more about us than our family did! They knew the trauma we had been through. Then suddenly we were just like everyone else. But we weren’t just like everyone else. We were terrified. The number of pages added to my notes shows just how terrified! They reflect the number of times the midwives and the Emergency Department very patiently and kindly dealt with each panic and issue I had – the spotting, the fall at 14 weeks, the low measurements, the possible slowed movements, the excruciating kidney pain, the urge to run and hide before each scan.

After the birth I had a massive haemorrhage and suddenly lost nearly 1/2 of my blood, had to have emergency surgery and ended up spending time in intensive care, while James was also spent a week in SCBU for a breathing issue. My poor husband had the whole of his new little family in intensive care. He spent a lot of time running between the departments in the hospital!

So not only did the ARU team and Neil MacLachlan (our fertility consultant) enable us to create our little family, Neil also saved my life. I’m not sure the words exist to explain how grateful we are or how special that team of people were to us!

James is an amazing little boy. He makes us smile every day. And every day we are grateful for him and to those who helped get him here.