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‘I’ve struggled to accept I may never have a second child’

Laura Biggs with her son William, 12 -
Laura Biggs with her son William, 12 -

When my son William was three, my husband Phil and  I thought it would be a good time to try for another baby. We both have siblings and  had always planned on having a little brother or  sister for William.

I was 38 at the time and my endometriosis, which I’d suffered from for years, had flared up so we went to see a fertility specialist, hoping that  a laparoscopy [keyhole surgery] would help. We’d struggled to get pregnant the first time around and back then it had been the magic solution. This time around, however, it wasn’t. 

For months, we kept trying and it got to the point where we were only having sex to conceive, the fun and spontaneity taken out of it. It was very stressful and, though Phil was supportive, I felt I was letting him down. By the time  I turned 42, I’d had two rounds of IVF and a miscarriage.

Determined to give it one last go, we booked into a fertility clinic in central London, known for its stringent protocol. It was January 2016 and I remember how hopeful I felt. But as the doctor reeled through a string of tests I needed, it hit me that I had signed up to an IVF boot camp. We found out the cost  – one cycle would be more than £20,000, with just a 20 per cent chance of it working. I walked out of the clinic, feeling so sad and low.  I remember turning to Phil and saying, ‘I can’t go through more disappointment.’ Phil said he understood. I was in tears but knew I had to draw the line.

People may think secondary infertility is not a big deal because I have one child already, but I went through intense pain as I grieved the loss of the family I imagined I’d have. One day, not long after, I went out for lunch with Phil and William, and I remember noticing that every family around us had at least two kids. It was heartbreaking to feel that mine was incomplete.

Every family around us had at least two kids. It was heartbreaking to feel that mine was incomplete

It was also hard to watch seemingly everyone around us get pregnant with ease, while I felt like my body had let me down. My friends and family were sensitive but I often found myself justifying my family to others: when we moved to our four-bedroom house, a neighbour asked why we bought a large house when we only have one child. ‘We hope for another,’ I said quietly.

I got through the initial grief by talking to Phil and our closest family and friends.  Then I started to focus on the advantages of having just one child – it means I can spend more time with William. (He has probably been to more museums and exhibitions than most children his age.) Then, one day a few months ago,  I realised Phil and I hadn’t talked about it for weeks, if not months – we were just getting on with our lives.

What if IVF doesn’t work?
What if IVF doesn’t work?

I am 46 now, Phil is 51, and we have accepted it. It hasn’t been easy – I still get broody and find it heartbreaking that William, who is now 12, won’t have the sibling he has always wanted. However, I have an amazing son and an incredible husband and every day I remind myself that I’ve so much to be thankful for.

​As told to Busola Evans 

Laura Biggs is the managing director of the The Fertility Show, which takes place on 24-25 March 2018 at Manchester Central; fertilityshow.co.uk