My fertility journey began in 2016. After getting married in the June, my husband Josh and I set off on a 7-month “megamoon” around the world. It was during this special time that we decided to start trying for a baby. After ten months, we were excited to finally see that positive blue cross on the pregnancy test. Like many, we immediately started dreaming about the due date, names and our life ahead.

Our excitement soon turned to heartbreak when, at around 8 weeks, we found out we had experienced a missed miscarriage. It was devastating. After unsuccessful surgical management, I had to undergo another surgery a month later. Despite the emotional toll, we remained hopeful and conceived again in November 2017. Unfortunately, this pregnancy also ended in a miscarriage. This time, it happened naturally, I began bleeding around 7/8 weeks.

Our third pregnancy, in April 2018, brought a glimmer of hope. Things seemed to be going well, and we allowed ourselves to start celebrating small moments, non-alcoholic cocktails flowed for my 30th birthday, and we dared to feel optimistic. But once again, it wasn’t meant to be. I started bleeding and miscarried naturally for a second time.

After three heartbreaking losses, we were referred to a recurrent miscarriage and fertility team at our local hospital. It was there that we learned, over a year later, that our first pregnancy had been a partial molar pregnancy, information that had slipped through the cracks, meaning I had missed the appropriate specialist care I should have received. Thankfully, I was okay, but the emotional toll was immense.

Despite extensive NHS and pricey private tests, no clear cause for our miscarriages was found. In 2018, further surgery revealed endometriosis, something I had suspected for years. However, it wasn’t thought to be the cause of our recurrent miscarriages, leaving us still searching for answers. Though we conceived relatively easily after our first pregnancy, after everything we had been through, we now found ourselves struggling to conceive. It felt like an endless wait as month after month went by, and even after six months on Clomid, we were still unable to conceive. It was an incredibly difficult and frustrating time, filled with uncertainty.

We then turned to IVF, a costly step for us, as we weren’t eligible for any funded treatment due to the ‘postcode lottery’ in our area. Our first round in 2019 seemed promising—10 eggs were collected, 3 reached blastocyst stage, 1 was transferred, and 2 were frozen. Everything appeared to be going well. We saw our little baby on the ultrasound and even witnessed a strong heartbeat several times in the early scans. But heartbreak struck again. After weekly scans and watching our baby grow, we heard the devastating words once again: “I’m so sorry, I can’t see a heartbeat.” We had suffered another missed miscarriage at 10 weeks, a little girl. After this heartbreak, I faced even more frustration. Once again, the surgery didn’t go as planned, and my hCG levels remained high for several weeks. There was still blood flow to some ‘retained products’ in my womb, and on top of that, I developed a post-op infection. It felt like things were going from bad to worse. Our babies were now being sent to Great Ormond Street for cytogenetic testing in the hopes of getting more answers. We decided to give my body time to heal naturally rather than opt for another surgery, and thankfully, my body eventually managed to recover on its own.

Six months later, late into 2019, we were ready to try again with a frozen embryo transfer. Two embryos were transferred, and while one resulted in a pregnancy, a little boy, we were met with heartbreak once more as we suffered yet another missed miscarriage, followed by more surgery. Each loss brought its own pain, but we kept pushing forward, hoping for a different outcome.

Now into 2020, we were still without any further insight into our losses even from the cytogenetic testing, and just six weeks after the last surgical management for pregnancy number five, the world was hit by the uncertainty of lockdown. During this strange and unsettling time we were shocked to discover that I had conceived naturally, only six weeks after the last surgical management. Given everything we had been through, seeing that positive pregnancy test didn’t bring the excitement it once had—it filled us with fear. But, as it turned out, this was our time. After many nerve-wracking solo scans and the most anxious nine months of our lives, we were blessed with our beautiful daughter, Ella, born on Christmas Eve. She was the most incredible Christmas present we could have ever imagined.

Early 2022, we found ourselves pregnant again. Sadly, this pregnancy ended in another missed miscarriage at 10-11 weeks— once again, a little boy. It took 4 months for my body to recover from this pregnancy, I was still getting positive pregnancy tests 12 weeks after the surgical management. Emotionally and physically drained from pregnancy and loss, we made the decision to take a break and focus on Ella and our little family.

We had reached a point where we were content with our family as it was. We had a happy, healthy little girl, and that brought us so much happiness. To our surprise, a year later, we conceived once more, and after another anxious nine months, we were ecstatic to welcome our precious son, Jaxon, in September 2023. Having two children, a beautiful girl and a gorgeous boy, feels like the perfect conclusion of everything we’ve been through, somehow making our journey feel ‘worth it’ in so many ways. Looking back, I feel like I spent more time being pregnant than not during those years. Since Jaxon’s arrival, it’s been such a relief to finally live without the constant weight of fertility struggles hanging over us.