…ended in a chemical pregnancy and a whole lot of heartache. Once again, we’re left utterly devastated that this hasn’t worked out for us. What’s really disheartening is that this was our third attempt with a double embryo transfer, and I was very conscious that if this didn’t work, we’d be losing two of our precious embabys.  

Deciding to go ahead with a double embryo transfer wasn’t an easy decision for us, and one we talked about at length with our consultant and one another. Given we’ve had two implantation failures with seemingly good embryos, chancing two was really an opportunity for us to increase the odds of at least one of our embryos implanting and staying with us for nine months. Whilst we sadly didn’t think we’d ever be so lucky to end up with twins following a double embryo transfer, we were advised that this could happen should both implant and we’d need to be prepared of that ‘risk’.

Alongside our double embryo transfer, we also introduced heparin injections and aspirin which I took daily from day of transfer. Once again, my husband was back to administering the injections (which hurt, a lot) whilst I sucked on some grapes and repeated to myself that in doing this, we were one step closer to our baby.

We were praying that with these slight tweaks to our treatment plan, we’d be blessed with a positive pregnancy test that was here to stay. Whilst a chemical pregnancy proves that either one or both embryos implanted, it doesn’t tell us why they stopped developing and that’s the bit that I struggle with as it leaves us yet again with no answers and means we’re no step closer to bringing our long-awaited baby home.

Physically I’m okay. I’m waiting for my HCG levels to drop to trigger a bleed and with that I can start planning ahead to our next embryo transfer. It’s the mental toll of all of this that weighs heavily on me, and I’m running out of steam.

When I first saw those two blue lines on our pregnancy test, I was in so much shock and had to wake my husband at 5.30am in the morning to get his eyes to agree with what I was seeing. It was definitely a positive. I repeated the test three more times over the coming days, and each time was positive… whilst I know first-hand that a positive pregnancy test doesn’t equal a baby, we still allowed ourselves to believe that this was it, this was our time to finally become a mummy and daddy.

And then our hopes were quickly halted when my doctor called to tell me that my HCG levels were low, and in her experience, they weren’t high enough to sustain an ongoing pregnancy. We were asked to continue my medication and come back in for monitored blood tests to check the progress of my HCG levels. If they were to increase, it was indicative of a late implanter or just a slow developer but if they were dropping, it was an indication of a chemical pregnancy/early miscarriage.

We were in limbo. In those few days, I researched every potential success story on the internet, and we tried to remain hopeful that our little embaby/s would hold on and stay with us. But deep down, I think we both knew that things weren’t looking great – we’ve not had much luck throughout this journey, sadly.

When the call came to confirm my numbers were dropping, something inside of me crumbled and the self-hate and anger, the upset, distress, fears, frustration and heartache all came to the surface and the flood gates opened and panic set in. How could this be happening to us? Will this ever work for us? What have we done to deserve any of this pain and heartache? Why us? We’re kind, good people with loving hearts and we don’t deserve any of this. With each knock, it’s proving harder and harder to get back up again and the strain on my self-esteem is very raw and at its lowest.

My doctor tells me that whilst it’s not what we had hoped for, it is still progress and whilst I can accept that, it doesn’t change how much any of this is aching our hearts. To be so close and have it taken away from us again is just cruel. There is nothing fair about infertility or this journey. It completely and utterly sucks when it doesn’t work in your favour.

I knew going into this that IVF is a numbers game. You can have the very best fertilisation rates and seemingly good-looking embryos like we do, yet it doesn’t mean it will always work the first, second or even third time. And this means that we have to continue to put our heart on the lines until this works for us. No matter what, we will keep going again and again and again if we have to. Whatever it takes, we will do it because our journey to Baby P isn’t over until we’re holding Baby P safely in our arms.

So please send us baby dust, wish us luck and keep us in your thoughts as we prepare for transfer number four.

Love, Sophie xx