Frozen Hope

by Jacqui Cooper

  Jacqui Cooper

  in conjunction with Nero,

  an imprint of Schwartz Publishing Pty Ltd

  Level 1, 221 Drummond Street

  Carlton VIC 3053, Australia

  enquiries@blackincbooks.com

  www.nerobooks.com

  Copyright © Jacqui Cooper 2018

  Jacqui Cooper asserts her right to be known as the author of this work.

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any means electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise without the prior consent of the publishers.

  9781760640453 (paperback)

  9781743820414 (ebook)

  Cover design by Tristan Main

  Text design and typesetting by Marilyn de Castro

  List of cooling and warming foods has been adapted from Ping Ming Health, www.pingminghealth.com.

  For my three children, Madeline, Thomas and Grace

  Contents

  Introduction

  1Triple Threat

  2A Risk-Taker

  3Jumping Jac

  4My Gentle Giant

  5Hurry Up and Slow Down!

  6A Necessary Function

  7Paperwork and Practicalities

  8TV School

  9The First Two-week Wait

  10The Perfect Cycle

  11Bettering the Odds

  12Changing Luck

  13Tick-Tock

  14Double or Nothing

  15Blessed

  16Logistics

  17Final Thoughts

  Acknowledgements

  Introduction

  Surround yourself with people you like and respect. When all else fails and you don’t know what to do, have faith in yourself and trust your instincts.

  WHEN I BEGAN MY IVF journey in 2010, I was hungry for stories. There were lots of them out there, but not the sort that I wanted and needed to hear. At the time, there was a lot of negativity around IVF: sceptical views about providers, get-rich-quick clinics and hopeless cases where desperate couples were driven to bankruptcy. I had an overwhelming desire to find some balance in what I was reading, hearing and seeing around me.

  Tens of thousands of Australian women had been through IVF by then, and plenty of them lived in my hometown, Melbourne. The problem was that I had only just moved back permanently after twenty years living overseas, and I didn’t have any work or friendship networks to call upon. Consequently, I spent an enormous amount of time looking for stories online, searching for something that would resonate with me and inspire me.

  To put it bluntly, I became obsessed with finding other women with whom I could connect. Everyone’s life experiences are different, I knew, but when you sign up to do IVF, you are on the same path as everyone else, all of us reduced to egg health and age groups and body temperatures and sperm counts. (IVF is a great leveller!) Although I wasn’t really aware of it, the idea of writing about my own experiences – the kind of book that I was looking for but couldn’t find – formed way back then.

  At the beginning of 2015, my beautiful twins were born and my longed-for family was complete. I was busting to talk about what I’d been through and what I’d learned along the way. My babies were here at last, and I was feeling grateful and blessed. I had a burning sense of obligation, a need to pass on my experiences to other IVF patients who were still floundering around in the sea of opinions, misguided directions and (often dodgy) advice.

  I had a high media profile as an athlete, and my husband, Mario, and I were approached by a number of glossy mags to do ‘happily ever after’ baby stories. Mario is a very private person, and although my work often puts me squarely in the media spotlight, we agreed from the start that our family would never become public property. We did agree to one interview with a reputable parenting magazine because it felt appropriate to share our journey with others, especially those who were thinking about or embarking on IVF.

  After that article was published, the idea of writing a book took hold of me. Mario and I talked about it for a few months and agreed it was the best way to share our story. Our aim was to avoid the easily digestible fairy tales that glossed over the hard bits. We wanted to produce a straightforward and honest account of the kind of people that we are, and what we went through to get our children.

  You’ve got to be prepared for the toll IVF can take on your relationship, however solid it may be. When we started, Mario and I had been together for eight years, although we’d only lived together as a couple for eight months. During my first (failed) cycles, I was so fixated on having a child that I wondered if my relationship with Mario would survive if we didn’t get pregnant. Would there be enough to keep us interested? What would we do with each other on the weekends, when everyone else in the world seemed to be playing happy families? Would he get sick of me? Would I get sick of him? Anxieties and doubts like this need to be addressed before they corrode a healthy partnership.

  At the same time, I had a strong personal reason for writing a book: to urge people to stick with IVF, to stay on the roller-coaster – hold on tight! I saw too many women give up too soon, expecting a quick fix or miracle cure for their fertility issues, just as I did when I started out. For many women, IVF is a commitment that can take years, and you need to be prepared for that possibility. I definitely wasn’t.

  I wanted to throw a bomb in the middle of all the negativity about IVF. It’s so easy to be sucked into the vortex. When you are inside the process, you need to focus on the positives, take care of yourself mentally and physically, and keep your eyes on the prize.

  So here’s how my story went, in IVF-speak. Between June 2011 and June 2014, I had four full (or ‘antagonist’) IVF cycles with fresh embryo transfers, and three separate transfers using frozen embryos. (If you’re new to all this, please don’t feel too worried about the lingo. By the end of this story you’re going to be very familiar with terms like ‘antagonist’, ‘transfer’ and ‘implant’, and plenty more.) Two of the seven transfers I had – both frozen embryos – led to pregnancies that culminated in the births of my three children.

  I’m not attempting to write a guide book to IVF. There’s plenty of good and detailed information out there if you are careful and smart about where you look. Most reputable clinics have websites that provide sound statistics, clear diagrams and even detailed videos that explain the process. Also, there are independent government agencies that provide balanced and impartial information about recent studies and statistical data.

  What I am going to tell you about is my own story. I’m going to talk about the emotional responses I didn’t expect, the things I wish I’d known, the things I wish I’d prepared for and the things I just couldn’t have anticipated. I hope that some of the things that worked for me might work for you too, or at least be worth a try.

  In most cases I’ve refrained from naming IVF medications and giving a lot of detail about procedures, because both are constantly being improved and updated. The fundamental steps of IVF haven’t changed since I did it, but some specifics certainly have, and will continue to do so. Self-injecting is an example of this. It’s usually one of the most challenging aspects for many IVF patients, and a real source of distress for some. I recently learned that the frequency of injections has reduced considerably since I was last doing IVF, and it seems likely that injecting will one day be replaced by a non-invasive method of delivering medications.

  When I began talking to publishers about my book, the first question they asked me was: ‘Why you?’ Of the many thousands of women who have undergone IVF, what makes me different? What makes my story worth telling?

  I’m a working woman with three small children and a busy husband. I ha
ve challenges and setbacks and hopes and dreams, just like you. The thing that sets me apart from many other women is that I have spent twenty years developing a specific mindset that helped me reach the very top of my profession. As a world champion aerial skier, I taught myself to think, to process information and to make changes, and my ‘athletic brain’ served me well. I believe that this mindset was a vital tool when I was confronted with the challenge of having a biological child.

  I was an ordinary suburban girl who, at the tender age of sixteen, entered a sports system that would become increasingly restrictive and rigidly goal-oriented. The curbing of my personal freedoms took some getting used to, yet I fully immersed myself in this life from the very start. Not many sixteen-year-olds know what they want in life, but I did. The freezing locations, the injuries, the isolation and the separation from my family didn’t deter me for a second. I was in it for the long haul, and I surrounded myself with people who were just as committed as I was.

  My approach to IVF was the same: I set myself up just as I would to win a major event. I viewed the doctors, nurses and support staff, not to mention my family and friends, as my personal coaching team, and I readily exploited all their experience and goodwill to help me reach my objective.

  I put myself in training, which meant investing in myself 100 per cent: maintaining a healthy diet, getting plenty of sleep, using acupuncture and yoga, getting some gentle exercise each day and indulging in a massage now and again. I knew that the healthier and more psychologically together I was, the less likely it was that a setback would derail me.

  I was especially proactive when it came to filling my mental ‘toolbox’ with facts and figures. You can easily surrender to the IVF experience and just take what comes because so much of it is out of your control. But I have always believed that a little bit of knowledge goes a long way, and you will make better decisions if you are well informed.

  In aerial skiing I listened a lot, asked tons of questions and was very ‘coachable’ (that is, able to receive and process feedback). I was prepared to suffer injury, to lose before I won, to have some bad days and to fail over and over again. And I was much the same with IVF. When my first cycle failed, I went looking for statistics on how many first cycles fail, and that knowledge helped me feel okay. I was eager to try again, but I understood how important it was to take time off before embarking on a second cycle, because I knew that other women had suffered detrimental effects by not allowing their bodies to recover sufficiently.

  There’s no doubt this mindset helped me cope with the challenges of IVF, but equally important, if not more, were the people who accompanied me on the journey. I can’t emphasise enough the crucial role played by my IVF team. From the very start, Dr Roshan Shamon was unfailingly honest, letting me know with his characteristic tact exactly what was going on with my body and what I was up against. He didn’t realise initially how many challenges we would face, but as he identified each new issue he never played it down.

  Dr Roshan Shamon is a naturally positive person, but he reminded me at every stage that there was a chance IVF wouldn’t work for me. He was well aware of the costs involved, and had no intention of encouraging Mario and me to throw good money after bad. We came to trust him implicitly, even if sometimes we chose to go against his advice. I am sure that even if we hadn’t succeeded with IVF, I would still maintain that Roshan was the best doctor for us.

  Choosing an IVF team

  This is such a tricky topic! There is a lot of conflicting information out there on how to go about ‘shopping’ for an IVF clinic. There is so much advice, and so many good and bad stories, that it can be incredibly confusing. I went to only one clinic so I can’t offer a range of experience, but I can give some simple pointers that may help you in your search.

  Get informed

  As always, I think the number one priority is to DO THE RESEARCH. The internet is usually everyone’s first port of call, as it was for me, but I soon realised that for a layperson, like me, the distinction between impartial information and blatant advertising can be hard to spot.

  Try looking for general information websites that are independent, non-profit (i.e. not plastered with advertising) and, if possible, backed by a government organisation. Websites of individual clinics often contain good information about the process and can act as a general resource. Also, an up-to-date and easy to navigate website is usually (but not always) a reflection of the level of service that the clinic offers.

  Online reviews of clinics can help people make up their minds about who to go with. Looking for a range of reviews from a large number of different patients from the same clinic should give you some idea of what to expect.

  One thing to watch out for, though, is clinics that claim that their results are better than others (for example, ‘Best Success Rates in Town!’). Blatant competitiveness in IVF advertising always sets off warning bells for me. Take comfort in the fact that the IVF industry is highly regulated in Australia, with plenty of government monitoring and a very high standard of training and care. The situation is different in other parts of the world, though, so do your research on Australian websites where possible.

  Listen to word of mouth

  If you know someone who has successfully been through IVF (I mean a real flesh-and-blood human person and not a name on a website), see if you can meet up with them and pick their brains for any useful advice or guidance based on their own experience. It might be good to speak to someone who’s been through IVF unsuccessfully, too, although they might be less willing to talk about it. I learned more from my failed transfers than my successful ones.

  Listen to your instincts

  Approach a few places. Make sure you speak to them or even go in for an introductory meeting or a patient information night. Who makes you feel the most comfortable and the most confident? Talk to other people who have used the facility. See if there’s any commentary online about them and their reputation. What is your gut telling you? Then look at the numbers and see how they add up.

  Look at your finances

  When money is an issue, couples may need to settle for the least expensive option. Personally, though, I wish comparing prices didn’t come into it. IVF is a fully immersive process, not a product you buy off the shelf. You are enlisting the help and services of a team of professionals, and you are going to be the most active member of that team. You need to feel good about the people you are going to be working with and a lot rests on your peace of mind.

  When you go for the introductory appointment, ask them to speak frankly and openly about how much an average cycle will cost. You need to be aware of all the ‘extras’ they offer that may not be included in that quote.

  Be sure that you go with a team that is passionate about helping you achieve your dream of having a baby and ensure that you aren’t treated as a number.

  Look for someone you trust

  I was fortunate that I didn’t have to shop around. I’d been going to the same gynaecologist for ten years and I had the utmost faith in his expertise and advice. He recommended that I go to IVF specialist Roshan Shamon, so Roshan was the only one on my list.

  Specialists generally work out of a single clinic and in Dr Roshan Shamon’s case this was City Fertility Centre. The clinic is located about half an hour from my home. Proximity is important, as there’s a fair bit of to-ing and froing involved and you don’t want to be crossing town, fighting traffic, to get to important appointments.

  On a personal note …

  One thing that I would have to recommend is ‘continuity of care’. I was able to retain one specialist, who treated me throughout the whole process, from Day 1 to delivery. Dr Roshan Shamon assessed my fertility, started me on the IVF regime, did the scans and egg collections, consulted with the embryologists, performed the transfers, followed up the pregnancy test, managed the pregnancy and delivered my babies! He knew what I’d been through and he was with me every step of the way. This was enormously comforting
and important to me.

  At some clinics, you might deal with several different people as you move through the IVF process. I would find this disorienting. I might be a team kind of person, but I like to know that the person who is checking my embryos on Friday is the same person who is checking my embryos the next Monday. I want someone who knows a bit of the history of my case.

  City Fertility Centre CEO Adnan Catakovic and his fertility specialist partners felt it was critical that patients are treated as real individuals. The City Fertility Centre specialists believe in and continue to uphold this genuine and caring philosophy.

  Let’s face it, I went to City Fertility Centre because of Dr Roshan Shamon, pure and simple. But I was lucky because, as it turns out, their continuity of care model was the perfect fit for me.

  1

  Triple Threat

  It’s great being a multiple. You’re never alone! Neither of my sisters has ever been the tiniest bit interested in sport, so that set us apart from the start.

  In fact, I was born first. At that moment, my parents knew I was competitive. I was first out; I was Cooper #1. I consider that my first win.

  IT WAS VERY LATE IN the pregnancy that Mum and Dad received the news they were expecting triplets. Can you imagine what a bombshell that was? Back in the early 1970s, there was no way to scan a pregnancy other than through X-ray. They just assumed my mum was fat. Mum insisted that she was eating the same way that she had in her first pregnancy; she said the extra weight must be an extra baby. So, finally, at 32 weeks, the obstetrician reluctantly X-rayed Mum. Triplets! We were born five weeks later via natural birth – I came headfirst but both my sisters were breech.

  Dad wasn’t terribly interested in children, although he had been fine when my brother, David, was born. It was my mother who had felt strongly about having another child; she loves kids and she really wanted a sibling for David.