When we transferred the embryo that would become Freya it was joyous and exciting. When we tried last time (and failed) it was anxiety-inducing and difficult. So this time, Jo and I both made a huge effort to remain calm, to let it all seem easy, and to trust in the universe.

Jo even received permission from the clinic to come with me for the transfer! I was incredibly happy to hear it. Jo’s parents were going to come meet us in London and take care of Freya while we were both in the clinic, and then… *deep sigh* You can guess where this is going, right? They tested positive for covid and weren’t able to meet us. Ugh! Only the second time in TWO YEARS that we could see them, a transfer that would mean so much to me to have Jo there… Yeah, not happening.

BUT we decided to not let it devastate us.

Jo, Freya, and I all went out to lovely restaurants, we went to playgrounds, we took it easy and tried to laugh and enjoy.

And yes, when the time came I walked all alone to St. Paul’s and into my clinic once more. I tried to think as positively as possible though. I am so grateful for our little family and there are so many wonderful things and people in my life. One moment of loneliness does not define me or this experience of trying for a child. I kept a mantra in my head, “I cherish what I have, and delight in what could be.”

I had also come very prepared with something to read on my phone to pass the time, Jo had written me a card that I could only read once inside the clinic, I was ready to spend a long time simply being calm and accepting. And then I walked in and…


I was immediately rushed through!

I think there was some issue with the patient before me, meaning that they bumped up my appointment. They quickly handed me a gown, a hairnet, and feet covers, and bam-bam-bam a nurse was there, ‘Are you ready, dear?’ ‘Please remove your knickers and come with me!’ Lol.

The embryologist popped her head in to say our two 4Bb embryos (nicknames ‘Piglet’ and ‘Coriander’ *g*) had both survived thawing and were looking great, and up my legs went into the stirrups!

The doctor back in Belgium had made me laugh at my previous scan saying that my uterine lining was looking beautiful. And now the doctor walks in, starts scanning, and says, ‘Beautiful!” Haha, it’s certainly a very specific compliment but I’ll take it! She even called over her colleague to take over the scanning and look too just to see the lining.

The small procedure room felt full with four other women, two doctors and a nurse and my embryologist, with a sense of excitement and goodwill. I could tell that the doctor had had some sort of patient training because she was warning me before she did everything, “I am going to lift the cover now, dear.” “I am going to start the speculum.” Etc etc. It does make a difference to be talked to like that.

Right before the doctor sent our two embryos on their way into my uterus, she said “Twins!” and went for it. I don’t know if it was meant as a blessing of sorts or just a reality – right that second I was literally instantly pregnant with twins of course – but either way it sounded significant.

I walked back out of the clinic in record time, blinking at the brilliant sunshine, a little stunned, a lot happy and relieved that it went so smoothly.

Two little embryos on board… You can do it my loves! 




2 replies
    • Nele
      Nele says:

      Oh I can imagine! Having a kid makes you realise the true definition of being busy ;D I’m glad to hear that you’re doing well, and thank you! <3

      Reply

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