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IVF was stressful enough even before this new postcode lottery IVF was stressful enough even before this new postcode lottery
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Mon 7 Aug 2017 14.36 BST
Last modified on Mon 27 Nov 2017 18.52 GMT
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I’m embarking on IVF this month: part two. I had part one when I was diagnosed with breast cancer, aged 36. It was offered, funded and rushed through the system with admirable speed and efficiency by my local NHS Trust, Barts. So for six years, six frozen embryos have languished in a freezer (presumably not a household one, among frozen peas) while I recovered and got my life back together.I’m embarking on IVF this month: part two. I had part one when I was diagnosed with breast cancer, aged 36. It was offered, funded and rushed through the system with admirable speed and efficiency by my local NHS Trust, Barts. So for six years, six frozen embryos have languished in a freezer (presumably not a household one, among frozen peas) while I recovered and got my life back together.
That 13 areas of England have restricted or completely halted IVF treatment since the start of this year has struck a painful chord. These cutbacks defy national guidelines, creating yet another postcode lottery. There’s one rule for those with cash, and one for the rest of you: tough luck.That 13 areas of England have restricted or completely halted IVF treatment since the start of this year has struck a painful chord. These cutbacks defy national guidelines, creating yet another postcode lottery. There’s one rule for those with cash, and one for the rest of you: tough luck.
I didn’t meet my partner until I was 40, and we perhaps naively thought we might become parents naturally. As endless people insisted on telling me, women can get pregnant in their 40s! My own grandmother had my mother when she was 45, and that was in 1950. But you hear only the success stories. For every woman who conceives naturally in her 40s, there are plenty who can’t. And being over 40, the rules are – or were – clear. No NHS treatment. That some providers are now considering restricting treatment to women aged 30-35 seems a cruel shift of the goalposts, and out of step with the reality of our lives.I didn’t meet my partner until I was 40, and we perhaps naively thought we might become parents naturally. As endless people insisted on telling me, women can get pregnant in their 40s! My own grandmother had my mother when she was 45, and that was in 1950. But you hear only the success stories. For every woman who conceives naturally in her 40s, there are plenty who can’t. And being over 40, the rules are – or were – clear. No NHS treatment. That some providers are now considering restricting treatment to women aged 30-35 seems a cruel shift of the goalposts, and out of step with the reality of our lives.
So I’m paying – one of the lucky few who can afford to. And only because I sold my flat in London. This is the “cheap” part, and by that I mean £1,300 a pop, with no guarantees. And that doesn’t include the fees for seeing the consultant, scans, tests, and extras, such as the clinic’s nutritionist, acupuncturist, hypnotist and for all I know shaman, crystal healer and drum circle – extras I am constantly, and politely, refusing while trying to remain likeable, and not blurt out: “The private fertility industry is a total racket preying on the hopes of the vulnerable and desperate.” The process is fraught with such superstition that I have convinced myself I will have a better chance of conceiving if the clinic staff are rooting for me.So I’m paying – one of the lucky few who can afford to. And only because I sold my flat in London. This is the “cheap” part, and by that I mean £1,300 a pop, with no guarantees. And that doesn’t include the fees for seeing the consultant, scans, tests, and extras, such as the clinic’s nutritionist, acupuncturist, hypnotist and for all I know shaman, crystal healer and drum circle – extras I am constantly, and politely, refusing while trying to remain likeable, and not blurt out: “The private fertility industry is a total racket preying on the hopes of the vulnerable and desperate.” The process is fraught with such superstition that I have convinced myself I will have a better chance of conceiving if the clinic staff are rooting for me.
I don’t believe anyone has a right to have a child. Life often doesn’t turn out the way you hope. But as Professor Simon Fishel, who pioneered IVF in the UK, says: “You have to treat citizens equally and this is a deliberate inequality and obfuscation.”I don’t believe anyone has a right to have a child. Life often doesn’t turn out the way you hope. But as Professor Simon Fishel, who pioneered IVF in the UK, says: “You have to treat citizens equally and this is a deliberate inequality and obfuscation.”
Feline goodFeline good
You’re supposed to relax while trying to conceive. There are clear links between stress and infertility. Research has shown that stress levels of infertile women are equivalent to those with cancer – that gave me a good stress-relieving laugh at the irony. The link between owning a cat and stress relief is also well documented, and luckily, I have a beloved cat, Duchess. But she has cancer (that word again); surgery is not advised. So our time together is precious and bittersweet.You’re supposed to relax while trying to conceive. There are clear links between stress and infertility. Research has shown that stress levels of infertile women are equivalent to those with cancer – that gave me a good stress-relieving laugh at the irony. The link between owning a cat and stress relief is also well documented, and luckily, I have a beloved cat, Duchess. But she has cancer (that word again); surgery is not advised. So our time together is precious and bittersweet.
I recently had a press release from the charity Cats Protection, announcing that a cat from Lincoln has been crowned overall winner in its National Cat awards. I don’t wish to rain on Genie’s parade, but reading about hero cats, such as Pixie who alerted a sleeping couple to their choking toddler, and Tink, who saved her owners from a house fire, it struck me that the real heroes are the regular cats, like the one snoozing besides me as I write this. I doubt she’d save me from a fire, but she’s been my constant companion and best friend for the last seven years, and frankly, that’s enough for me.I recently had a press release from the charity Cats Protection, announcing that a cat from Lincoln has been crowned overall winner in its National Cat awards. I don’t wish to rain on Genie’s parade, but reading about hero cats, such as Pixie who alerted a sleeping couple to their choking toddler, and Tink, who saved her owners from a house fire, it struck me that the real heroes are the regular cats, like the one snoozing besides me as I write this. I doubt she’d save me from a fire, but she’s been my constant companion and best friend for the last seven years, and frankly, that’s enough for me.
Allotment bluesAllotment blues
Gardening is also supposed to be relaxing. I have an allotment. But my plot is covered in ants’ nests and weeds; caterpillars have eaten my kale, and my tomatoes might have blight. Meanwhile my neighbours stagger out of the gate weighed down by such bounty they can barely carry it. Shirking at the allotment is not looked upon kindly, so I am designing a timetable that takes in work, the allotment, fertility treatments, the cat, and of course, relaxing. August is traditionally lazy, as everyone important is on holiday. Why do you think I’m writing this column? But the sun has gone and every minute of my time is now accounted for. The opposite of the lazy, hazy dog days of summer that I long for.Gardening is also supposed to be relaxing. I have an allotment. But my plot is covered in ants’ nests and weeds; caterpillars have eaten my kale, and my tomatoes might have blight. Meanwhile my neighbours stagger out of the gate weighed down by such bounty they can barely carry it. Shirking at the allotment is not looked upon kindly, so I am designing a timetable that takes in work, the allotment, fertility treatments, the cat, and of course, relaxing. August is traditionally lazy, as everyone important is on holiday. Why do you think I’m writing this column? But the sun has gone and every minute of my time is now accounted for. The opposite of the lazy, hazy dog days of summer that I long for.
• Fay Schopen is a freelance writer• Fay Schopen is a freelance writer
IVF
Notebook
Fertility problems
Health
NHS
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