When I turned up for my first scan, I had company - the other woman my husband had got pregnant…
Sitting down for a catch-up with my friend Cindy in the staffroom,
I had something important to tell her.
‘We’ve started IVF,’ I said, nursing a cuppa.
Pals since secondary school, we were fortunate enough to find ourselves teaching science at the same school.
Cindy knew my husband Michael and I wanted to start a family, but that I had polycystic ovary syndrome, meaning I didn’t ovulate properly.
However, now she was excited that we were trying IVF.
‘I’ve got my fingers crossed for you,’ she smiled.
But two weeks after the first IVF cycle, our hopes were dashed when the pregnancy test was negative.
We continued trying but each cycle either failed or ended in miscarriage — most were early, with one going so far as hearing a heartbeat and then needing a D&C.
Doctors tested the quality of the embryos for any genetic abnormalities, but results came back as normal.
We were none the wiser why it wasn’t happening for us.
‘Let’s set a limit of 10 goes,’ I suggested, to which Michael agreed.
But the constant cycle of hope followed by bitter disappointment wore us out.
At work, I tried to pick myself up.
Since telling Cindy I’d gone down the IVF route, I had kept it fairly quiet.
‘Is everything OK?’ Cindy asked one day during break time. ‘You seem down.’
I told her about my heartbreak.
‘I’m so sorry,’ she said.
Cindy was a mum and knew how much I wanted to be one too.
Then I noticed a strange expression on her face.
‘This might come as a shock, but I could carry your baby,’ she said.
I couldn’t believe that she would offer to do something so selfless as carry a baby for me!
‘Thank you, but I couldn’t ask you to do that,’ I said.
‘The offer stands if you change your mind,’ she insisted.
That evening, I mentioned it to Michael.
‘It’s so generous of her to offer,’ he said.
Time passed.
After our ninth cycle was unsuccessful, we decided to take a break.
By now, Cindy had given birth to her second child.
‘I don’t want any more children,’ she said. ‘So, my offer to you is still open.’
This time, I thought about it in more depth.
‘Cindy said she’s still serious about carrying a baby for us,’ I told Michael later on. ‘What do you think?’
‘If you’re up for it, then so am I,’ he smiled.
‘I am!’ I cried, hugging him.
I met up with Cindy to talk it over.
‘I’m so grateful for this opportunity, but I’m worried how you’ll cope being pregnant with two little ones,’ I said, feeling guilty that she would have a five-year-old and a two-year-old to look after, while carrying my baby.
‘I’ll be fine,’ she smiled. ‘Just as long as you take the baby off my hands at the end!’
With her husband Sean on board, I made up my mind.
‘I’d love for you to carry my baby!’ I said, hugging her.
‘I’m so glad I can help you guys,’ she exclaimed.
Despite Cindy agreeing to be our surrogate, I still wanted to go ahead with my tenth, and final, try of IVF.
After the necessary health checks and legal procedures, we arranged for Cindy and me to be implanted on the same day.
One after another, an embryo containing my egg fertilised with Michael’s sperm was implanted in my womb, and then in Cindy’s womb.
The two-week wait to go in for a blood test was excruciating.
After one week, I broke.
I rang Cindy.
‘Let’s do the pregnancy test now together,’ I said.
Cindy came over to my house, and I handed her a test. She went in the loo first, then me.
As we waited, both of our pregnancy tests developed their results.
‘It’s positive!’ whooped Cindy.
I peered at her test and saw two strong blue lines.
‘Amazing!’ I said.
Then I gazed back to my test and did a double take.
‘Oh. My…’ I began.
‘What?’ said Cindy.
‘It’s my test,’ I replied.
‘Yes?’ she said.
‘It’s positive too!’ I shrieked.
‘Amazing!’ Cindy yelled, as we hugged.
What were the chances of us both being pregnant?
Despite the positive results, I couldn’t help but worry — would mine end in a miscarriage again?
We booked our appointments together so I could attend Cindy’s scan.
At the first appointment, the sonographer smoothed the Doppler over my tummy and I heard a heartbeat.
‘All good,’ said the sonographer.
Then Cindy climbed on to the bed, and another heartbeat boomed around the room.
‘Yes, all fine,’ said the sonographer.
‘They’re both Amber’s babies by the way,’ Cindy said. ‘She and I are teachers in the same school, not in a relationship.’
‘Oh!’ she exclaimed. ‘I did wonder! Thanks for telling me and good luck to you both.’
Soon it was time to explain to our colleagues, and our students.
‘Wow, that’s amazing,’ the staff chorused.
‘Yes, technically we’re both pregnant with my husband’s babies,’ I laughed.
Finally the 20-week scans arrived.
‘Would you like to know the sex?’ the sonographer asked.
‘Yes, please,’ I nodded.
‘Amber, you’re having a girl,’ she said.
When it was Cindy’s turn, I found out she was carrying a boy.
They were two embryos from the same cycle, which made them non-identical twins.
Then one day, I’d finished a biology lesson and walked my class out for break, when I felt my waters break.
Oh no! I thought.
I was only 28 weeks pregnant.
I called Michael on the way to hospital.
‘You’re not in labour,’ a doctor told me. ‘But we need to monitor you in hospital to prevent risk of infection.’
Confined to a hospital bed, Cindy visited me several times.
At 33 weeks, I went into labour naturally, but was given fluids to slow it down.
Over the weekend, Cindy, Michael and Mum came to the hospital, ahead of the delivery.
Two days later, I gave birth to baby Rayleigh, weighing 4lb 11oz.
Before I was able to hold her, she was whisked off to intensive care for breathing support.
I stayed by her incubator throughout the night until I was able to finally hold her.
‘She’s perfect,’ I cooed, as Michael smiled.
Four weeks later, I was finally able to bring her home.
Cindy and I went ahead with our planned joint baby shower, even though we had a little gatecrasher.
‘Rayleigh obviously didn’t want to miss out,’ I said.
Then, seven weeks and two days after Rayleigh was born, Cindy gave birth to Brody.
Weighing 9lb 4oz, Michael and I were full of love when he was handed directly to us.
I was overjoyed when Brody, Rayleigh, Michael and I were together for the first time.
The next year whizzed by.
Then one day, I felt weird.
I turned to Michael.
‘I think I’m pregnant,’ I gasped.
‘Stop that, it’s not funny,’ he insisted.
But I took a pregnancy test, and it was positive.
We stared at each other in shock.
Doctors couldn’t explain why I had fallen pregnant naturally after so many years.
But my pregnancy was super easy and straightforward.
‘I’m so happy for you!’ Cindy beamed, when I told her.
In time, I gave birth to my second daughter Hadley, weighing 9lb 10oz.
With no other choice, we quickly figured out how to cope raising three kids under three.
Michael became the main provider for the family, often working long shifts, while I became a full-time mum.
It was chaos, but great chaos.
It was amazing to experience being naturally pregnant, but I don’t regret Cindy carrying a baby for me.
Everything happens for a reason and if it wasn’t for Cindy, then I wouldn’t have my Brody.
I’m proud of our story and how our children were born in their own special way.
From Amber Scalzo, 37
