I vividly remember the moment I discovered I was pregnant with my son. I was on the pill, my boyfriend worked a FIFO job and I bought a cheap pregnancy test from a chemist. I realised I was going to be a mum in a Sydney Airport bathroom. I was 23, so young but i was in a loving, stable relationship, had a mostly uneventful pregnancy and have a beautiful almost 5year old.

The problem with falling so easily and unexpectantly, is that you are completely ignorant to the reality that 1 in 6 couples face. Infertility.

In routine blood tests, dr’s discovered a serious clotting condition, Factor V Leiden and a hormone disorder, PCOS. My now fiancé and I have tried for 3.5yrs to conceive and have been unable to fall. The irony of it all is deafening.

Last year, after seeing a fertility specialist we tried clomid. It was unsuccessful. Our doctor was very optimistic and unwillingly provided me with a false sense of hope, which was crushed by less then ideal ovulation. It was exhausting, both physically and emotionally. After 3months, my weary soul needed a break.

Perhaps, we thought. We should be grateful for our beautiful boy and appreciate that we are only meant to have one child, our miracle.

That was until our boy wrote his Christmas list one gentle Sunday morning. “A baby” he whispered quietly. “Can I please have a brother or sister?” My heart tore into tiny pieces, an unimaginable pain. And it was this moment that drove us back to the fertility specialist, and onto IVF. Our apparent, best chance.

It is difficult, as it’s exciting and terrifying in equal measure. Desperately I wish to tell all my friends that we’re travelling this lonely road, and yet..  the fear of failure is isolating, and I wish to shield us from prying eyes and painful questions.

So, we persist. We attempt to control our fear, and contain our optimism. Taking one day at a time, hand in hand. Together.




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