Now I grant you the words “smear” and “peace” do not usually go together. But such is my life, at the moment, that taking the time to lie down in the middle of a morning and not having anything I must do - isn’t the worst thing. I still loathe the speculum - that evil metal vaginal umbrella they open up in you to perform a smear test. But I am so much more familiar with them now I am an unwitting IVF veteran (they are used during the embryo transfer stage), that they have lost some of the horror.
A dog.... It just feels unreal sometimes, the advice people are so keen to offer. Anyway, happy to be here. Male, went through IVF with my wife in 2006, she was diagnosed with breast cancer shortly afterward and died in 2014 leaving me with a gorgeous 7 yo daughter. She is now 15, as I approach 50. And I am just so grateful for the round that worked, as I am blessed to have my daughter channel the spirit of my late wife - annoying me every day, just as her mum did. I love them both to the moon.
After 6 rounds of IVF and a recent miscarriage, I’ve experienced a lot of well meaning health professionals advice and commentary like this.
In the same way Emma describes in this article, how those comments land depends on what stage of the rollercoaster I’m on that day.
However, I always try to be as empathetic as possible towards medical teams - they have their own trials and tribulations they’re dealing with, as humans in very stressful jobs do.
That said, I think training around how professionals speak to those struggling with their fertility has to be improved. From the terminology around medical conditions such as ‘hostile womb’ or ‘incompetent cervix’ to how sonographers deliver the news that you’ve lost your baby. In my singular experience it’s out of touch across the board in both private clinics and NHS hospitals.
Awareness and changes in approach would go a long way to improving the mental process of ‘trying’. I hope this project Emma is starting helps.
Oh dear god, just stop bloody digging! I got so fed up of this ‘helpful advice’ (even from close friends) that I penned a long list of ‘what not to say’s. Multiple times in fact, with varying degrees of rant. None of which I ever really managed to utter, probably out of politeness.
I sort of hope that rant comes out one day. It was helpful to write, and pretty sure it’d be less hurtful to say than the ‘advice’ received.
Sorry if this is a redundant comment, but I presume you know that embryos can be assessed for their propensity to abort, and that may save you from many disappointments
A dog.... It just feels unreal sometimes, the advice people are so keen to offer. Anyway, happy to be here. Male, went through IVF with my wife in 2006, she was diagnosed with breast cancer shortly afterward and died in 2014 leaving me with a gorgeous 7 yo daughter. She is now 15, as I approach 50. And I am just so grateful for the round that worked, as I am blessed to have my daughter channel the spirit of my late wife - annoying me every day, just as her mum did. I love them both to the moon.
After 6 rounds of IVF and a recent miscarriage, I’ve experienced a lot of well meaning health professionals advice and commentary like this.
In the same way Emma describes in this article, how those comments land depends on what stage of the rollercoaster I’m on that day.
However, I always try to be as empathetic as possible towards medical teams - they have their own trials and tribulations they’re dealing with, as humans in very stressful jobs do.
That said, I think training around how professionals speak to those struggling with their fertility has to be improved. From the terminology around medical conditions such as ‘hostile womb’ or ‘incompetent cervix’ to how sonographers deliver the news that you’ve lost your baby. In my singular experience it’s out of touch across the board in both private clinics and NHS hospitals.
Awareness and changes in approach would go a long way to improving the mental process of ‘trying’. I hope this project Emma is starting helps.
Oh dear god, just stop bloody digging! I got so fed up of this ‘helpful advice’ (even from close friends) that I penned a long list of ‘what not to say’s. Multiple times in fact, with varying degrees of rant. None of which I ever really managed to utter, probably out of politeness.
I sort of hope that rant comes out one day. It was helpful to write, and pretty sure it’d be less hurtful to say than the ‘advice’ received.
Had this so many times especially nurses saying they know so and so it worked for. Thanks for sharing Emma!
I do hope the nurse reads this and takes some time to reflect on her practice.
Sorry if this is a redundant comment, but I presume you know that embryos can be assessed for their propensity to abort, and that may save you from many disappointments