When my dream seemed out of reach, I put my faith in pineapples, salty fries and a safety net. By Joma Cook, 35
Another friend had happily announced their pregnancy and I felt deflated.
‘I need to be a mum,’ I said to my hubby James.
We’d been trying for a baby since we’d married almost a year earlier.
After suffering an early miscarriage, I’d had tests and we’d been put on the waiting list for IVF.
But we’d suffered another blow when we were told that because the miscarriage counted as a successful pregnancy, it would be another two years before we were eligible for fertility treatment on the NHS.
Since then, I’d tried everything from changing
my diet, to acupuncture and CBT therapy in the hope something would help.
But none of it had worked and now it was getting harder and harder to see friends and family starting their families when it wasn’t happening for us.
‘Let’s look at how much
it would cost to go private,’
I suggested.
But totting it up, we balked at the £15,000 price tag.
‘Blimey!’ I gasped.
‘It’s a big investment,’
James said.
‘Huge,’ I agreed. ‘Especially if it didn’t work first time.’
But we weren’t ready to write it off just yet, so we booked an appointment at a fertility clinic near our home in Buckinghamshire.
There, they told us about Access Fertility — a scheme that promised a refund if you weren’t successful after three fresh cycles of IVF.
As part of that, you could have unlimited frozen embryo transfers.
'I feel like a pin cushion'
We contacted the company who told us we’d be eligible for an 80 per cent refund if we didn’t have a live birth.
Although it was still going to cost a lot, knowing we could pay that amount and keep trying gave us the safety net we needed to go for it.
And, as we took out a bank loan to pay for it, I felt really hopeful for the first time in ages.
Soon after, I began daily injections to boost my egg supply.
‘Ouch!’ I moaned to James. ‘I feel like a pin cushion.’
But determined to stay upbeat, I wrote positive affirmations on sticky notes and put them up all round the house.
On our journey, we had discovered that the pineapple had become a symbol of hope for women having fertility treatment and that many go to appointments wearing something with the fruit on it.
So, when we went in for my first embryo transfer, we wore matching pineapple T-shirts.
On the way home, I asked James to stop at McDonald’s.
‘I want to get some chips,’ I told him.
On the IVF forums I’d joined, so many women had put their embryo taking down to them polishing off some fries from Maccy D’s!
Now, all we could do was wait, and after two weeks,
I woke early and took a pregnancy test.
When it was time, James and I peered at the stick and staring back at us were two strong lines.
‘We’re having a baby!’ James shouted.
Unable to believe it, I made him go out and buy more tests — all of them were positive.
As my pregnancy progressed, I was in and out of hospital with symptoms of pre-eclampsia.
However, finally, at 40 weeks, our son Eden was born by emergency Caesarean.
When they placed my little son on my chest, I still couldn’t believe he was finally here.
Now, Eden is a happy, cheeky three-year-old, who loves singing and is such a bundle of fun.
To anyone contemplating or going through IVF, I can’t recommend Access Fertility enough. It took the financial worry out of an already stressful situation.
It gave James and me real hope — and best of all, our beautiful son.
● For more info on the IVF Refund Programme, visit accessfertility.com