In order to have Freya, it took us two years from the moment where we first seriously discussed having a child, to actually holding a positive pregnancy test in our hands. Two years in which we first considered co-parenting with a gay man, then at home insemination, then researched and ‘auditioned’ at multiple clinics. Two years where we went through IVF and hyper-stimulation, a FET, and endless stress and worries, most of it carefully chronicled on this blog.
It felt like forever to me then! But at least with the great outcome of our IVF and all the embryos we had stored, we felt sure that we’d never have to go through such a drawn-out process to get pregnant ever again.
And then Covid happened… With us stuck in Belgium and our embryos in London. At first we simply felt extremely lucky that we were able to have Freya before all of that happened, and it’s not as if we would have tried again within that first year anyway. But it’s been so long by now!
In a way, this time around the wait has been worse.
Back when we were dreaming up Freya, the reality of pregnancy and of having a child was such an unknown to me. It was a beautiful dream sure, but (like all first-time parents I suspect) I was ridiculously naïve and had NO IDEA of what it actually would be like to have a newborn. But this time around I do know. I know exactly what we’d be signing up for, and I want it so badly. Yes, there will be the sleepless nights, the horrifying haze of post-partum, the sheer intensity of motherhood. But also the joy. The immense, amazing, utter love for a little human. I can’t wait!
But we have to.
The first time around, trying to get pregnant was an active decision, something that we fought for together with pride. This time I am a lot more weary of all it takes and a lot more envious of the straight couples where ‘it just happens’. Yes, I’m aware that there are a whole lot of other feelings surrounding surprise pregnancies and not always positive ones at that, but by god, it would be nice!
I first emailed our fertility clinic back in May, and in late July when the borders to the UK finally opened we officially started the whole process of trying all over again. So far it has taken six weeks of heavy medication, over fifty phone calls, dozens of emails, four hospital appointments, three scans, and one hysteroscopy with a painful biopsy. There’s no guarantee, there never is, but we are hoping…
To be continued!