This blog is an honest reflection on years of infertility, IVF, and recurrent loss—sharing the heartbreak, hope, and healing that followed.

If only I knew what lay ahead, I would have been kinder to myself.

My life has been marred by hospitals, operations and medication. I was diagnosed with ulcerative colitis aged 14, and had emergency colorectal surgery to remove my large bowel when I was 18. I had been so poorly for several years prior to the surgery that it’s fair to say it saved my life. I then lived with a stoma bag for two years before having a reversal, where it was replaced by an internal pouch.

Given my complex medical history, it wasn’t a surprise when we struggled to get pregnant in the early days. We began a process with the NHS and started ovulation stimulation. I found those early stages hard emotionally as I had an expectation that, once I started some sort of medical process, I would be ok. If only I knew what lay ahead, I would have been kinder to myself.

Getting more and more frustrated with how slow the NHS process was, we moved to private fertility care in September 2018. We got cracking with two rounds of ovulation simulation and one round of IUI, but neither worked. On paper, I appeared to be the “perfect” candidate for IVF as I was still young, so we moved onto that. I had my first egg collection in January 2019, and we ended up with three “Day 5 blastocysts”. They chose the best quality embryo, and I had a “fresh” transfer five days after my first egg collection.

I clearly remember the day I went for a blood test to get the pregnancy result, and the nurse calling us into the room to give us the positive news. However, it was not to be, as it resulted in a chemical pregnancy. We were devastated. I continued to push away close friends, who felt like they were reproducing at a rate of knots around me, with many now on to baby number two.

We had two further embryos from the first egg collection, so we decided to go ahead with a frozen cycle. I was feeling positive. However, both embryos failed to thaw. It felt cruel and left me very angry. We very quickly went back in for another egg collection as I remained desperate to “get it done”. This one resulted in two embryos. We slightly tweaked the protocol a little, but both embryos failed to take.

We were going to be blessed with identical twins. However, at eight weeks, the doctor couldn’t find either heartbeat. I felt empty.

We decided to go again, this time adding in additional immune therapy and planning to do PGS (pre-genetic screening). Off I went for my third egg collection, now on the highest dose of follicle-stimulating hormone I was allowed. The first egg collection resulted in only one embryo, which we decided not to genetically test as the cost was prohibitive. That resulted in another failed transfer. From the next egg collection – our fourth – we ended up with three good embryos, which were all sent off for PGS. The results came back showing we had only one normal embryo, but when we had the frozen transfer in January 2020 it worked. We were finally pregnant, and not just a chemical pregnancy. We were over the moon. Finally, after all this time, our hard work had paid off. We had an early six-week scan and there were two little embryos! We were going to be blessed with identical twins. However, at eight weeks, the doctor couldn’t find either heartbeat. I felt empty.

By now it was the start of March 2020 and Covid hit. Lockdown came at a good time for us, which I know is an unpopular thing to say, but to have time to connect as a couple without outside noise for a few months was exactly what we needed. At the same time, I reached out to a friend who recommended acceptance and commitment therapy (ACT). I found a brilliant woman and we started our sessions over FaceTime. She was amazing and really allowed me to be sad and angry, and validated all my feelings. She guided me through a grieving process without me really know I was doing it. She gave me tools to understand my feelings, accept them and try to find a way of moving through. I learnt more about how to deal with adversity in my sessions with her than ever before and I’m very grateful for that.

My husband and I had several months to grieve, and we talked about how to move forward with trying to have a family. We researched adoption and lined up some open evenings. At the same time, I looked at other IVF clinics, and we decided to have an initial consultation with one doctor. She blew us away. The detail she provided and the screening she wanted for us was extensive. She really listened to the history, and requested all my test and lab results so she could tailor a treatment plan to us. We came away thinking that if it didn’t work with her then it wouldn’t work with any doctor!

We discussed a very thorough plan which would involve batch egg collections and sending all resulting embryos off for PGS, while ensuring my womb was the best environment it could be. The clinic identified that I had a hydrosalpinx on the right tube and in January 2021 I had a small procedure where that tube was sealed off. Meanwhile, we had received great news that my egg collections had resulted in four genetically normal embryos. It was the best news ever.

Taking all the medication under the sun, we transferred the embryo on 18th May, 2021. The odds appeared to be in our favour, having done everything possible. We did the pregnancy test at home. I crept behind my husband as he tentatively walked down the hallway and peeked on the bathroom shelf where I’d put the test, and a faint line had appeared. We were pregnant! And this time it was for real. We cried a lot.

We were so lucky. But this story is full of “howevers”.

The pregnancy that followed was uneventful. I had additional growth scans due to my previous bowel surgery but nothing too abnormal. I was booked in for a C-section and on 25th January, 2022, Billy came into our lives. The miracle had arrived. Every baby is precious, but Billy seems to have a capital “P”.

We enjoy Billy so much; he remains the love of our lives. Given we had three more genetically normal embryos, we decided to go for another transfer in September 2023. Using the same protocol as Billy, it worked again. We were so lucky. But this story is full of “howevers”. I suffered a miscarriage at 10 weeks, following a subchorionic haematoma.

The loss was brutal and tough on my body. My husband and I took a few months to recover and sought some couples counselling. The woman we saw was really helpful. It allowed us to discuss how we were coping as individuals, as well as a couple, and accepting those differences between us. She also helped us make the decision on whether to go again, which we did in May 2024.

The transfer worked again, and everything was going really well with the pregnancy. Every scan was normal, and I was being well looked after by the consultants and the midwife team. However, with no warning signs, there was no heartbeat at my 20-week scan. We couldn’t believe it. Surely not again.

As the miscarriage was so late this time, I was caught by specialist bereavement midwifery care and the consultants to manage the aftercare. Both were amazing. I had several tests to work out what had happened, and it wasn’t super clear, but we’ve deduced that there was a potential blood flow issue causing the placenta to not develop correctly. It’s been a very difficult few months and I have had to dig deeper than I’d ever hoped I would have to go. Billy doesn’t realise the job he has done to help us through. He’s an absolute miracle and I’m grateful every single day for him.

I am learning to accept what has happened to us over the past few years. I grieve for all the losses, with equal weight.

We have sought more external help and support. I even went on a solo wellness retreat for three days around the time of the due date. I am learning to accept what has happened to us over the past few years. I grieve for all the losses, with equal weight. I am coming to terms with our family as it is now. I won’t be doing any more IVF as it’s too much for me and for us. The counterbalance to grief can be a beautiful thing. It can bring a sense of peace and acceptance. That’s how I’m choosing to manage it, and I am living my life again.

Written by Lorna Bloom.