MY OTHER PROJECT • by Anna Hart

Don’t ask me why, but I always thought my partner and I would struggle with having a family. It really doesn’t make any rational sense, neither of us had a reason to think this would be the case, but perhaps it was that everything else in our relationship was just so easy. From the day we met I knew he was going to be in my life forever, which isn’t something I ever expected to feel. (Or declare to the internet).

 Neither of us came to the relationship with any known issues. I have a somewhat complex medical history (to the extent that I convinced someone I’d been attacked by a shark because of my abdominal scars) but nothing genealogical other than some polyps that were removed several years ago. In fact, my body had previously managed to defy the limits of contraception and conceive in a previous relationship (which didn’t go to plan in any sense, but I don’t look back on with any sadness, if anything it was a relief).

 I won’t bore you with the details but after a long period of getting to know each other over the phone, my partner and I met fairly serendipitously in New York. We had a huge amount in common; even though we met 3000 miles from home, our families lived metres away from each other in the UK and some of my closest friends had been at school with him. As we were already in our mid thirties we made the big decisions fairly quickly, particularly as he was away so much with work. We affirmed we wanted to be together and were totally aligned on what that meant for us. A family was a major part.

So, we started trying a few months later - fairly casually. When it didn’t happen for us straight away we assumed we’d just got the ovulating days wrong and he’d been away with work on the days where it could have happened. After a while we started to track cycles more carefully and use ovulation sticks. Both of us started to consider supplements and our diet a little more carefully. But it still didn’t happen.

Months later we decided to visit a specialist who had helped some friends of ours. We didn’t go into it with any expectations, we just wanted to have a bit of an audit and see if there were any medical reasons we weren’t conceiving. We did all the tests, giggled through the awkward parts and the results came back saying there were absolutely no medical obstacles to stop us having a baby.

With that weight lifted and some hormone help to boost things along, sure enough a few months later I fell pregnant. We found out very early and didn’t tell many people. We were so excited, I fixated on the due date like no number I’ve ever had to remember. Sadly 9 weeks in I miscarried. It was a blur, but not something I’d wish on my worst enemy. I wouldn’t say I’m still grieving it, but I do feel really sad whenever I reflect on it all. Four of my best friends have babies over that period of time, which was really challenging. Also, the entire internet proclaiming “well we had to do something over lockdown” as part of an Instagram pregnancy announcement really was… unhelpful.

After a couple of months we regrouped with our doctor and just asked him to hatch a plan (having a plan of any kind is what calms me, even if it’s a long one). From there, we tried all options. Clomid (made me fat and miserable), progesterone suppositories for weeks on end (ruins your underwear), trigger injections (the anxiety surge was real) and god knows how many internal scans – nothing seemed to do anything. Even our doctor said he was staggered we weren’t “further along” by now.

So we recently decided to go through full IVF and ICSI. We’re in the middle of that now, I’m feeling very good but I have good days and bad days; I actually think being in lockdown is an enormous positive as it’s forced me to slow down. I’m also doing acupuncture (turns out I can’t get enough of needles) which I’m finding immeasurably helpful.

 I find myself being scared of getting excited at the prospect of this round working, but also recognise the need to be centred and positive as it’s such an integral part of the process. I take so many damn supplements I rattle when I walk, and I miss gin. A lot. I think I’ll end up taking a few g&t cans in my hospital bag. Which will happen – for me it’s a case of “when” rather than “if.” I just hope I’m right.

Anna is the founder of One Roof Social