The Kindest of Words

Today, I waved my best friend off as she starts her most exciting adventure yet – Motherhood.  

Besties expecting besties - this girl pulls off leopard print like no other!

I’m lucky enough to say that I get to work with my best friend. She’s not a colleague who I’ve just grown really close to over the years – our husbands were schoolfriends, and she actually helped me get the job I’m in now – but our friendship has blossomed over the last 6 years into one that I truly believe will last a lifetime. However today, after 5 years of seeing each other every day, I said goodbye to her as she starts her maternity leave.  

You’d think given my history that I’d be gutted to be seeing this happen. After years of struggling with infertility I was watching yet another friend disappear off to welcome her new bundle of joy into the world. But I don’t feel this way with her. I feel excitement at the thought of her new arrival, pride for the steps she’s taken to become the best mummy possible, and sheer gratitude for what she’s taught me over the last few years. You see, the best thing she has done for our friendship has been that she’s always honest. No secrets. No drama.  

Last week, I talked about some of the (many!) wrong things you can say to someone struggling with infertility. But ultimately, the kindest thing you can do is just to be honest. This girl has always been available to lend an ear when I’m sad, mirrored my frustration when things don’t go right, and calmed me down when she could see the steam start to come out of my ears! She’s also been the one to give me the kick up the arse I needed when I would doubt good things in my life – she sees the bright side of things and doesn’t pussyfoot around the situation!  

Perhaps you know someone going through some sort of struggle to become a parent. Here’s some handy tips that this one has done for me over the years, and I’m eternally grateful for:  

• Pick up the phone. She’s one of the few friends who actually still talk on the phone for no reason, just to catch up. We end up having a right laugh, and it’s so nice to keep the conversation going for an hour without having to send emojis and get carpal tunnel from texting all night! 
• Buy her some flowers. Nothing says “I’m thinking of you” like a bunch of flowers. They don’t have to be expensive, but no one ever got sad from flowers. 
• Leave a little note somewhere for her to find. A Post-It note on my desk from my bestie telling me she loves me went a long way once upon a time ago, and lifted my spirits immensely. I think a bar of Galaxy was also involved. Which brings me to my next point...  
• Chocolate. Chocolate. Chocolate. 
• Invite them over for a cuppa. Even better – go to hers for a cuppa! She’s much more likely to accept an invitation of “shall I pop over for a bit?” than a “pop in whenever you’re free!” You don’t really give them the option of saying no, and usually you know they need you.  
• Organise a baby-talk free day. Spas, shopping, or even just going for a walk around a National Trust park will do wonders for the soul – especially if you know that the baby talk is banned! 
• For the IVF friends – make up a little hamper for them to enjoy while they recover from egg collection. I had two of these made up from my best friends, filled with lots of magazines, chocolate, puzzle books, candles and face masks. What a treat for when you’re feeling like shit! And unexpected too, it’s not like M&S are in the market for an Infertility Hamper! 
• Remind them that they are strong, and that everyone has their back. Infertility has a HUGE impact on their mental health, and I even forget the toll it’s taken on my body and mind over the years. Plugging yourself full of supplements, the healthy eating, gruelling gym sessions to stay fit, the injections, the therapy, the appointments, the never-ending hospital visits, the tears... Even as I type it, my eyes are getting wider! 
• Be honest. If you’re thinking of trying for a family soon, just give her a heads up. You don’t have to tell her your ovulation patterns, but just a rough idea of your plans so it’s not a complete ambush goes a long way! 

You may think that I’m only saying these things because I am currently pregnant, and what a different situation I would be in if things weren’t the case. On the contrary, I have a handful of women around me who have done the same when we were still trying for a baby, and I’ve still felt the same with them, too. It all comes down to honesty. But it was only a handful, which was sad. 

My best friend was one of the handful. She told me in advance that she and her husband were starting to think about trying for a family, and so when the time came that she had that all-important “something to tell me” it wasn’t a shock, and for once – I didn’t feel sad! I felt sheer excitement and elation for my friend! Rather than think the usual “I’m happy for you, but sad for me” I purely felt joy for her – I knew this feeling and wanted it so bad that I was just so delighted that her time had come! 

There is something that you will hear a lot if you are struggling to conceive: “Everything happens for a reason.” It can be a shit statement. But think about it – it's also a really, genuinely valid point.  

I think back over the years and wonder what would have been if we got pregnant when we started trying. Would my relationship with my husband be the same? Would we be as strong if we didn’t have to wade through the shit-storm over the last three years? Would my friendships be the same? Would I still be naïve to the world of fertility? Would I value my family now, more than ever? 

Obviously, I don’t know the answers to some of these questions. But infertility has made me grateful for what it has opened my eyes up to. I don’t think I would have changed much as a person, and for once it made me put myself before others for the sake of my mental health – which I didn’t even realise was deteriorating rapidly at the time. Of course, my relationship has hit some stormy times, but we’ve grown through what we’ve gone through, and the love I have for my husband now is ridiculous in comparison to the pre-baby-making days! He has shown me how much of a true hero he is, and I didn’t even know it when I married him.  

I was never even really a family person before all of this, either. It sounds weird, because of course I love my family. But they've shown me that with every hurdle, we all go through it together. My win is their win. My loss is their loss. My grief is their grief. Opening up to them about our infertility was one of the best things we could’ve done, and would you know it took me a year to tell my own parents what was going on?! Oh, how it broke down some barriers! But it meant that instantly we were all on the same page, and we would move forward together.  

So, everything happens for a reason, right? I genuinely believe this to be true as of this moment. If I had fallen pregnant three years ago, with no issues and no intervention, I wouldn’t be half the woman I am now. Since going through IVF three times, I like to refer to myself as Wonder Woman, and I know that this test has been building me up to be the best mumma I can be to my son. (My SON. God, that still feels weird to say.)  

It also means that I wouldn’t be able to share this amazing experience with my best friend. With just 11 short weeks between our due dates, we’ll be able to see our boys grow up together. We’ll experience the highs and lows of motherhood together, and what better person to do that with than your own very best friend?! Incredibly, I’m also due around the same time as two of my other closest friends, so again I feel like this is the Universe’s way of saying that NOW is my time. They’re also work friends, which just goes to show that actually your colleagues can end up being the most loyal friends you ever have. You spend most of your life with them, so why wouldn’t they end up in your Inner Circle?!  

I feel like I’ve gone off subject a bit with this post, and I don’t really know if the content flows very well for the message I’m trying to convey. But ultimately, honesty is the best policy. It’s the best way to protect yourself, and your relationships from falling victim to the dark side of infertility! 

KEB x 

"Don't drink the water!"

I’ve had a bit of writer’s block lately. I thought I’d gotten back into the swing of things with my last post. But honestly, I’m struggling with a lot of external factors in my life that means that writing has taken a backseat lately. I won’t go into detail, you don’t need (any more of!) my life story, but essentially those worries have kept me up long into the night, and it finally dawned on me during another sleepless night that I had something to write about again.  

Ladies and gents, let’s play a game of... What not to say to someone struggling with infertility! 

This week I found myself reading a heart-breaking post by a fellow IVF couple. Tragically, after 3 IUI’s and 2 rounds of IVF, their latest round had ended in an early miscarriage. They have quite a large following (and no wonder, they’re a brilliant couple!) but sadly having lots of followers meant that they get insensitive comments all the time from people who weigh in on their fertility journey, suggesting alternative treatments or therapies. Don’t get me wrong, I’m sure a lot of people say things that come from a loving place, but for the love of god – before you suggest something – THINK BEFORE YOU SPEAK.  

I’m still finding this difficult, even though I’m pregnant now. Something that I think our friends, family and co-workers have not addressed – or are even aware of – is that just because we’re pregnant does not mean that we are now cured of infertility. We are still infertile. We became pregnant because of science, not nature. It is still extremely highly likely that should we wish to get pregnant in future, we will need IVF/ICSI treatment again. 

So, this brings me onto my main point – what not to say to people struggling!  

• After a pregnancy loss: “At least you CAN get pregnant!” Nope. Nuh uh. Not the one. I genuinely do not think this needs explaining. Your loss cannot be written off by an “at least” comment.  

• “Have you considered adoption?” Have YOU considered adoption, hun?! Surely adopting children should not just be left up to us infertiles!? A quick google search and simple maths proves the following: In the UK, around 3,000 children need to be adopted. 3.5 million people are infertile. And p.s there are SO MANY reasons why people choose not to adopt, and they should not be penalised for it. We don’t penalise fertile couples for choosing to have biological children, do we?! Plus add in the facts that not everyone can be approved for adopting or fostering, the legal jungle you have to wade through, and the risks involved for both the birth family and adoptive family... the list goes on. It’s a choice for the parents-to-be, not for you to air your own comments about it.  

• “Can’t you just use his brother’s sperm?” This one is a firm favourite for our circumstances! A few people have thought it’s okay to sign up my brother-in-law's swimmers for duty. Not only is this a hugely sensitive issue for us, no one even asked THEM if this could be an option! I get that so many siblings do offer up their eggs or sperm in desperate times, and I completely salute you and your heroism. You are fucking heroes, trust me! For us though, we just couldn’t see it happening. So many times, when J and I were at our lowest, I had to reassure him that it was HIM I wanted a child with – I didn’t just want a child end of story. I told him time and again that if I wanted one that badly, I would’ve resorted to other means by now. But it was HIM that I wanted to share my DNA with.  And on another note, he has two brothers. How would we have chosen between the two?! Before you say it, you cannot just mix multiple batches of sperm together in a turkey baster and hope for the best. They would actually work against each other, and become hostile. So, jut FYI, a little science for you. 

• “Can’t you just use a surrogate?” I’m sorry, would you please mind your own uterus? As far as my personal story is concerned, I wanted to be pregnant so very badly. The issue of a surrogate did not even cross my mind, as in the doctor’s eyes I was perfectly healthy and should have no reason to not bear a child. My miscarriage was down to mother nature, not because of me, per se. I had longed for the days when I would see my belly grow, would welcome morning sickness, and take advantage of my (temporarily) bigger boobs. I was actually asked that in my fertility counselling session – could I not “just use a sister, a cousin, or a close friend?” My heart was broken, and the last thing I needed was to see yet another pregnant belly – this time from someone growing my own damn child! It was for this reason that we stopped seeing her after the very first session.  

• “Just relax.” Infertility is an illness, a disease, recognised by the World Health Organisation. Relaxing will not cure diabetes, cancer or missing limbs. It will not work for infertility, either.  

• “Go on holiday, it’ll happen then!” We spent a small fortune trying out this method. An all-inclusive 4* week in Majorca, chucked it on the credit card and hoped for a lucky week. It rained for 5 of our 7 days, and we were stuck in the middle of nowhere with nothing to do except watch reruns of You’ve Been Framed on the only available English TV channel. Pregnant, we did not become.  

• “Just get REALLY drunk!” This is my MIL’s favourite, who likes to remind us that most pregnancies are conceived through alcohol. I think she gets her stats from Pinterest, along with trying to get us to buy various herbal remedies to get pregnant by in just a few short weeks.  

• “You should talk to Susan. She got pregnant naturally after her IVF failed – it always happens!” You know the stats by now. 1 in 8. ONE IN EIGHT of us couple are infertile. Which means that someone always knows someone else who’s going through it. I appreciate the connection, but that’s usually where it stops. Infertility takes on an ugly form in so many shapes, sizes and variances – it's actually really quite hard to find someone to talk to who is going through the exact same circumstances as you. I used to follow IVF’ers on my personal Instagram account (but I’d be one of those lurking in the shadows, following your story but never daring to comment out of fear of “coming out!”), but the criteria to meet was so high! Were you in your late 20s? NHS or self-funded? Male factor infertility? No known problems yourself? Living in the UK? In the South West? In PLYMOUTH?! Us too! Did we just become best friends?! Note: I follow – and have followers – of all different circumstances now. I appreciate we all just want the same outcome at the end of the day. We’ve all got this! 

• “You’re having a boy? Well maybe your next one will be a girl!” Yes, we are completely blessed to know that we have one very precious embryo chilling out in a very cold freezer somewhere, waiting to be used one day. One embryo does not = another guaranteed child. Friends, family, colleagues – PLEASE understand that there are still risks involved IF we decide to use it. The embryo may not thaw properly, thus rendering it useless. It still may not implant correctly after transfer. Miscarriage is a still a very real risk, as with all the other risks associated with pregnancy, such as an ectopic pregnancy, Down’s, stillbirth etc. Also, that embryo’s genes have already kicked in. Whether it’s a boy or girl has already been decided by fate.  We may also decided that one is enough for us, and what we do with that embryo will be OUR decision when the time comes to decide what to do with it. 

• “IVF/surrogacy/[insert other fertility treatments here] is just for celebrities trying to play god.” When people say things like “Kim Kardashian only used a surrogate because she cares more about her body than giving birth” it makes my blood boil. Sure, there are the airheaded WAGs who have been very vocal about using IVF just so that they can get pregnant with the elusive daughter-they-never-thought-they-could-have, even though they’re extremely lucky to already have multiple boys already. But Kim K has also been very vocal about the fact that she had serious risks to her health if she got pregnant again, therefore couldn’t physically get pregnant again without putting herself in extreme danger. Do some research before commenting, for god’s sake. 

I mean I love water but this is ridiculous.

• “Don’t drink the water, you’ll get pregnant!” There are currently five women who are pregnant at my work, all due within a few months of each other. If I hear this phrase one more time, I will smack someone. We have a very efficient water cooler in the office, however I am sure that Thirsty Work are not somehow filtering magical fertility vitamins through the system. One cannot get pregnant from keeping hydrated on water alone. If you need a refresher on how babies are made, I suggest you go back to the beginning of this blog and read up. It’s highly insensitive to insinuate that people can get pregnant as easy as that, especially when my colleagues know about my IVF treatment, in particular. There is also no "magic chair" that we've all sat on at one point or another either - if there was, then I'm sure Ikea would've cottoned onto that moneymaker by now, too. 

And my personal favourite... 

• “Just you wait until you have kids...”  

Seriously. ALL I’VE DONE IS FUCKING WAIT. 

KEB x 

P.s We have fallen victim to every single one of those examples above. This list is not exhaustive. But I am exhausted with trying to explain myself. We shouldn’t have to, and our journey to parenthood will be chosen by myself and my husband, ONLY.