Louise Chadwick is an Assistant Headteacher in Liverpool, and one of the co-founders of SPACE.

3 Years, No Change

As a little girl I had it all planned out; married at 21, then children would follow shortly after. This was all I had ever wanted! I longed to be a mum.

But it wasn’t until the age of 32 that I was happily married, and we decided to start trying for a family soon after.

In my head, I thought it would happen quickly, but nothing happened, and as the months went on nothing seemed to change.

Every month became a rollercoaster of emotions. And every second, hour, day that my period was late we would hold our breath, earnestly pleading for this to be this month - but of course, my period would soon follow, just as it always did.

We watched on as friends and family got pregnant easily, still unaware of the battle we were facing for a child. Of course, we were excited for them - but there was always that feeling of longing inside for it to be us too.

After 3 long years of trying, we decided we needed to investigate further and get some help. A trip to the local GP was booked, some bloods were taken, and we were referred to the Liverpool Women’s Hospital. This was the start of our ivf journey.

Our ivf journey

In October 2019, we had our first hospital appointment, but they told us there was nothing ‘wrong’ and that we had ‘unexplained fertility’. They offered us a referral for IVF and we both agreed, thinking this would mean us finally getting our dream.

We left the hospital that day feeling excited and full of fresh hope, at the thought that in just a few months we would be ready to begin our little family. 

Our treatment finally started in January 2020 with appointments, scans, blood tests, and many forms to fill in. We felt apprehensive, but also excited. It was not how we had planned to grow a family in our heads, but we felt sure it would all be worth.

February was the start of many injections, and then on the 11th March we were finally ready. We went in for egg collection. This was it! Or at least so we thought…

We came home to eagerly wait for the phone call with updates the following day. But when it finally did, the embryologist explained that they went through all 5 of the eggs they had collected, and there was only one left now.

We were devastated by this news, as our odds of success were significantly reduced, but we held on to the fact that it only takes one good embryo. We prayed with all our might, but our worst fears were confirmed the following morning. The embryo had not developed overnight. This news left us crushed. We had never really thought about this possibility, but it was truly devastating. The IVF hadn’t worked.

Plans on hold

Determined to fight on, we made an appointment to see the consultant. We had lots of questions we wanted to ask. Why had it happened? What can we do to improve our chances? Had something been missed?

We wanted to try again ASAP, but just one week later the whole country went into lockdown and everything was on hold. The fertility clinic shut. We were left in complete limbo. No answers, no next steps, and no more appointments for who knew how long? 

But finally in July, we got a phone call from the hospital to say we could have a phone appointment and that hopefully the clinic was reopening again soon.

We were elated and relieved! Time to restart the treatment again, ready for our little family!

One step forwards, two back…

On the 16th September 2020, we had our first embryo transfer, and the two week wait started. On the 27th September we did our pregnancy test. YES!!! We had done it. We were pregnant!!

We told close family and some close friends right away. They had all been on our IVF journey so knew the dates etc.
We were so pleased. I had been off work for 3 weeks during this time, but I was finally returning to my teaching job this week.

On my first day back, I took it easy all day, and those colleagues who knew about my situation would not let me do much at all. At the end of the day I nipped to the toilet, with barely a thought. But suddenly my worst fears came true. There was blood.

I calmed myself down enough to walk out of the toilet. I told myself it was okay. Other people have bled and still had a healthy baby.

My husband works at the same school as me, so I immediately went to find him. As we drove home, we were both quiet. Both unsure of what to say or do.

Once home, I got on the couch hoping it would ease. The bleeding stopped for some time. But by 8:30pm I was bleeding heavily again, so I decided I needed to phone the emergency room. They told me it could be implantation bleeding so to just rest. If it got heavier call back. I went to bed feeling anxious and longing for it to stop.

I woke up at 5am to more blood. At this point I just knew I was losing my baby. I rang the hospital who told me to wait for the fertility clinic to open at 8:30am and to speak to them for advice. When I did, again they reassured me that it could just be a small bleed. Again, I was told to monitor things at home, and then to do a pregnancy test in a week. 

That week of waiting to see what happened felt like a year. I stayed off work, but my husband still went in. Those days spent on my own filled me with fear, anxiety and despair. I tried to watch endless boxsets on Netflix to distract me but nothing really worked or helped me to relax.

That week it was also my birthday. I remember cards coming saying ‘happy birthday’ but I didn’t want to see them or to acknowledge the occasion. There was nothing happy about this birthday at all. The very day after it, I did the pregnancy test and it confirmed that I was no longer pregnant. 

One more shot

Although I was left completely heartbroken by this loss, we did still have a small glimmer of hope. We still had one frozen embryo.

We booked in to see the consultant who told us that as soon as I’d had a period, we could arrange for an embryo transfer. So we waited and then made the appointment, determined not to waste another second.

On the 11th November we had our 2nd embryo transfer. After two weeks we did the pregnancy test, and YES - we were pregnant again!!

We were excited of course, but this time we also curbed our emotions as we also knew what could go wrong. This time I was more cautious and took extra time off work.

At 7 weeks, I had a scan which confirmed that everything looked okay. We left the hospital with a precious picture of our little one. Finally, we had our dream. This was going to be the best Christmas ever! What’s more, we had been given our wedding anniversary as our due date which made our baby feel even more special. We knew it was just meant to be.

Christmas was a lovely time, even though it was quite restricted because of COVID19 rules. Then New Year came and we celebrated that this was the year our baby would finally come!!

Silent miscarriage is the worst

We soon had our next scan at 12 weeks. On the morning of our scan we talked about how we would get scan pictures for both sets of grandparents. We had all the items in our shopping basket on Amazon ready to buy, and we knew exactly who we would facetime to share our baby news with first! We were super excited!! Never did we envision how that appointment would go…

We went into the hospital and had all the regular Covid checks, then sat down and looked around at the many faces in the waiting room. Couples holding scan pictures, ladies with the white pregnancy file. I had that file too. I was in that club. I just needed that scan picture of our precious one.

We went in. The nurse asked for a brief history, and we explained it was IVF. But we had already had an early scan, and everything looked good. Then she started to scan me. We held each other’s hands tightly. But our excitement changed as I looked at the screen in front of me. The nurse started to move the scanner quickly around my stomach. She asked me again “did you say you had an early scan?” At this point I knew something was definitely not right.

I asked her ‘Is something wrong?. She told me she was just still looking. But I already knew from the look on her face. Then came those dreaded 7 words. “I am sorry, there is no heartbeat.”

I sat bolt upright, wiped my stomach and said ‘okay’ in absolute shock. She left us in the room together alone for a few moments. But I just wanted to get out. The room was dark and I felt like I couldn’t breath. I just couldn’t take it in.

They told me I needed to make some choices about my care, and that I had to be scanned again by someone else before leaving to confirm that there was no heartbeat. This was tough. As soon as it was done, we left as quickly as we could.

The drive home was silent. It felt like our whole world had been snatched from us in that instant. No more excitement, no more amazon orders, no facetime to share our news - just heartbreak and devastation.

The worst part was that I’d had no indication of any problem this time. I still had the pregnancy symptoms and even a bump. Silent miscarriage is so cruel!

At the time, Covid restrictions didn’t allow people to come to our house to support us so we were left to grieve alone. But we made exceptions for our parents. We needed them at this time. Nobody had the words after this loss, we just needed each other.

Days passed, and I had to back go into hospital to decide how to pass the pregnancy. Not a decision I wanted to make. We choice the option of tablets rather than surgery as we were still mid-pandemic and it was a treatment I could manage in the comfort of my own home. But the experience was horrible. The next morning I was rushed back into hospital with excessive bleeding. Wasn’t losing my baby in the middle of a pandemic not hard enough? Now this too?? It felt so unfair.

Over the next few days, lots of flowers arrived at our house. Our house started to look like a florist, but it gave us comfort knowing that people were thinking of us and cared. 

Moving forwards

With the whole country still in lockdown after our loss, we had nothing to do with our time. No welcome distractions from the grief. All we could do each day was go for a walk, and so that was what we did.

Without a doubt, it was the hardest few months of our lives. We were in mourning and feeling so crushed, but couldn’t see any friends or do anything to cheer ourselves up like plan a trip away. All we had was each other. 

I suppose the one positive was that the experience did bring us closer. We held on to each other in the hardest of times. We had to because we literally had nothing and no one else. 

But at that time I also found myself longing to speak with other women, especially women who had been through a similar thing. But when I looked for local support groups online, they seemed to be non-existent in Liverpool. This spurred me on… 

My experience has really made me want to support other women going through similar things. This is not an experience that anyone should go through alone.

It has not been an easy journey so far, and sometimes it leaves us with more questions than we started with. But I also believe that hope and peace can be found in the middle of the heartache too.

As women we can support and encourage each other - and that’s what SPACE. is all about.