Misconception

by Jay-Jay Feeney

  We approached a nearby primary school to enrol him and they told us Seven needed to be up to date with his vaccinations, and be enrolled by his legal guardians. Well, that wasn’t going to happen, so we told Matt and Seven’s mother that we needed to assume legal guardianship.

  I know my brother wasn’t happy about it, but we really had no choice.

  I think Matt was worried that we were stealing his child, but I was doing my best to take care of this wee boy and give him a normal life away from drugs, gangs and crime.

  It took about a month and cost nearly $4000 in legal fees. Getting Matt to sign was easy, because he was in prison and we knew where to find him. Seven’s mother was harder to track down. Eventually she responded to an email and agreed to sign the paper.

  So, before we had completed our third IVF cycle, we became parents—instant parents to a gorgeous four-year-old boy who turned our world upside down, but in a good way. It’s what we had always wanted but it didn’t happen in the conventional way. But, then, our lives have never been conventional.

  Adjusting to having Seven in our care was quite a challenge. Firstly, because we didn’t know him very well and he didn’t know us at all. So we were learning about each other. Just as we had to adjust our lifestyle to fit him in, he had to adjust to his new home. More importantly, he had quite a few emotional issues—hardly surprising given his difficult start in life.

  During Seven’s first year at school he was invited to his friend Sean’s house for a play date on a Friday afternoon. Sean’s mother, Jo, had invited all eight boys in the class to play that day and told the mothers to collect the boys at 5 p.m.

  That afternoon the boys made a fortress in the backyard and proudly named it ‘Boys Club’. When we all arrived at 5 p.m. to pick up our boys, Jo offered us a glass of wine and, being well organised, a few grown-ups nibbles. How could we refuse? We were all very different women and we probably wouldn’t have become friends if we hadn’t met this way. I really felt like the odd one out, but the others all made me feel welcome and, despite our colourful story, we were accepted into the fold. A few wines later it was 7 p.m. and the dads were called to pick up the boys.

  A few weeks later one of the others decided to have all the boys over on Friday afternoon and invited all the mothers for a few wines at 5 p.m.—or wine o’clock. Boys Club was born. Now, every term, we get together in pairs to host Boys Club. One of us has all the boys after school (and all of their siblings) and the other organises dinner and drinks for everyone—all the kids and parents. In all, there are sixteen adults and nineteen kids, so it’s a bit of a mission.

  The mothers have given me great parenting advice along the way, helping me understand what is normal and what is unique to our situation. They have been steady and strong in their support, making me feel better when I think I’m doing it all wrong.

  We have all been great friends for five years now, but I’ve definitely upped my wine intake since meeting them all. They also encouraged me to do a parenting course, and Jo recommended Incredible Years, which is a government-funded course for parents of three to eight year olds. Coincidentally there was an ad for the latest course in Seven’s next school newsletter, so I enrolled. I went to class every Tuesday night for fourteen weeks with fifteen others, to learn how to change difficult behaviour into positive stuff.

  Dom didn’t come because he thought we were already doing a great job and didn’t need a parenting course, to tell us what to do. I felt the opposite. I had no confidence in my skills as a parent and, besides, Seven was quite a challenging child.

  There were sixteen people in the class—mostly couples. Surprisingly, they were all normal people who, I would assume, were good parents already. At times, I found the class to be a little bit kooky and it was extremely PC, but I stuck with it.

  Each week there was a topic of the week for all the discussion and activities—I remember one-on-one playtime with your child, tantrums, time out, praise and emotional coaching. We watched vignettes that were very interesting but looked as if they’d been filmed in the seventies, and we’d do role-playing, too. I found the role-playing very awkward. One of us would have to be the child and the other the parent and we would act out a scenario in front of the group. Cringe!

  I learned a lot from the course and it gave me the confidence and skills I needed to care for Seven. Before I did the course I was very soft on Seven and treated him like a nephew, spoiling him and letting him do what he wanted. Now, I don’t let him get away with as much and treat him like a son. I have boundaries, we have rewards charts, and I always follow through with consequences for both good and bad behaviour. (It hurts to take the skateboard away for a day, but sometimes you have to be cruel to be kind!) Since I have become a better parent, Seven has become a better child. It works both ways.

  IN HIS OWN WORDS—INSTANT PARENTHOOD

  I don’t think I fully appreciated just what we were taking on when we agreed to take in this little boy in January 2008. It was a Sunday and the final day of our four-week Christmas break.

  The next morning, our alarms were set for 4.30 a.m. to host the breakfast show. All of a sudden, waking up so early after a month of sleep-ins was not our biggest concern—what the hell would we do with this kid? Our boss, Leon Wratt, a dad of four himself, kindly came over to look after Sev while we went into work to try and present a fun and entertaining radio show. Not the easiest job in the world when you have such complete chaos going on at home.

  Since Seven came with the clothes on his back and not a lot else, we went shopping after work on Monday. We told him we would go to The Warehouse and buy him a toy, anything he wanted. Before we left the house we told him to put his shoes on. He crawled under the fold-out bed he had slept on and got them.

  Puzzled, I asked him, ‘What are your shoes doing all the way back there, mate?’ He said he put them there so nobody would steal them. It was heartbreaking stuff.

  At The Warehouse he was adamant he wanted a thing called a Monster Truck. Not having any prior experience with kids, we didn’t have a clue what a monster truck was so we were counting on him to point it out to us. In the end, I think he pulled a swift one on us because we ended up leaving the big red shed with a big chunky remote control car and a battery powered ride-on three-wheeler Shrek motorbike.

  Initially, I didn’t think Sev was going to be with us forever. The way I saw things playing out was that Matt would do his sentence then get a job and a house, and when we were happy he had his life back on track, Sev could go back. I saw this entire process taking two or three years. In hindsight, this was all a bit too optimistic.

  Seven’s growth and personal development flourished with routine, boundaries and consistency. It became clear to us before too long that he was with us for the long haul.

  At the time we had no family in Auckland who we could call on to help out, which made things a challenge. But once he started school a few weeks after arriving at our house we became good friends with other parents in the neighbourhood whose advice and support we found invaluable. Since they had kids the same age as Sev we could work out which behaviour traits were because of his unorthodox start in life and which were just him being a regular bratty five-year-old boy!

  I feel horrible writing this, but there were times in those first few months when Jay-Jay and I would look at each other and say, ‘Why the hell did we do this?’

  Now the hard days are getting further and further apart. It has been bloody hard work but it is so incredibly rewarding to see the progress this little guy has made. I’m both excited and nervous about watching him grow up and become a man. He has a good heart and a good head. We desperately hope he uses them to make good decisions and create a good life for himself.

  And rather than put me off wanting more kids, it actually made me realise just how much more rewarding life is with kids in them. And, if we may pat ourselves on the back, I reckon we are both pretty good at this parenting game.

  Fourth IVF cycle


  It took almost two years to get over the third cycle and build the courage and strength to try again. We had also had a lot of adjusting to do as we learned to be good parents to our nephew, Seven. It was a huge coincidence that the embryologist at FertilityPLUS, Sonya Jerkovic, was one of the mothers from Boys Club.

  When I first met her at school I thought she looked familiar but I didn’t put two and two together and she never said anything to me, although I suspect she had recognised me. We were friends for a few months before I realised where I had met her before.

  She thought Dom and I should try again for a fourth cycle. She said she felt confident for us and suggested we make an appointment with Neil Johnson, Medical Director at Fertility-PLUS, for an overview of our files and a chat about possibilities. Talking to Sonya about it felt safe. It was good to know a friend would be in charge of mating my eggs and Dom’s sperm—I knew she would try her best for us.

  When we contacted the clinic we found out because I had ovulated early during my first cycle we were eligible for another funded cycle. Our fourth cycle would also be publicly funded, so not everything has gone against us. Really, we had been very lucky so far and had received the best of care.

  Around this time we were also contacted by TVNZ’s Sunday and asked if we would be interested in having them document our next round of IVF for a story for the program. They had done a story a few months earlier about male infertility and had interviewed Dom for it. They thought covering a complete IVF cycle would be a great follow-up to that piece, so they called us and asked if we had any plans to do another round, which we did!

  This would mean cameras following us on our journey so they could produce a twenty-minute story. It was a daunting prospect—IVF is a deeply personal experience, but Dom and I aren’t private people. We are hosts on the most popular morning radio show in New Zealand. We had talked about our experience of IVF briefly on air and I had written about it on my personal website, which is no longer active. So we had already shared our story publicly, but we’d been light with the details. Having a camera crew follow us to all our appointments would be far more intrusive. They would see everything!

  We would be on show and although we’d talked in general terms we had never really shared our emotions with our listeners. We had a lot to think about. We wouldn’t be paid for the Sunday documentary. If we did it, it would be simply to share a rarely talked about story with the rest of the country. There had not been much in the media about New Zealanders’ experiences with IVF—mainly, I think, because not many people want to talk about it.

  We decided to go ahead with it. The main reason for me came from remembering when I first heard we would have to have IVF—I felt very alone, scared and afraid. I couldn’t find much information out there that wasn’t clinical. I wanted to hear personal stories from people who had been through IVF, too.

  I figured that if we did a story for Sunday, we would be of some comfort to people like us, and their families. Also, imagine how exciting it would be, if we were successful, to have an awesome documentary to show our baby one day! And if it doesn’t work . . . Well, that’s the reality of IVF and we hoped that our story would help others in the same situation.

  The other reason we agreed to do it was because we liked the program and absolutely loved the producer Julia Sartorio and correspondent John Hudson. They are great people and we became friends over the time of filming. FertilityPLUS were very good about us bringing a host, a producer and a camera guy to every appointment. Although, I have to say, the first appointment, in November 2009, was the most uncomfortable because we hadn’t talked to Neil Johnson before about whether we should even make a fourth attempt and here we were with a large posse in tow. It felt a bit presumptuous when, all of a sudden, reality set in.

  Having a camera in your face during private moments is not comfortable for anyone. Understandably, Neil Johnson was a bit awkward and so were we. But as time went on, we all got used to the crew and, even, at times forgot they were there. Overall, the first appointment went well and the doctor told us he thought we had a good case for a fourth round.

  At that first meeting we also discussed using a sperm donor this time because of the problem with Dom’s sperm, but I wanted to have Dom’s baby—not someone else’s. It’s a whole new drama to get your head around and I felt awkward about having another man’s baby. We decided that we weren’t ready to give up on Dom’s sperm just yet!

  The Sunday crew went with us everywhere, including the scanning room when I had no knickers on and my belly was swollen so that I looked as if I was already pregnant. When they asked me how I felt about it, I said, ‘I’ve always been an open person. That’s just me. I’m honest. Maybe I’m an over-sharer. I’m straight-up with people and will tell them everything.’

  Around this time, we were also contacted by Fertility New Zealand and asked if we would become ambassadors for them. Dom and I were thrilled. It seemed perfect for us because here we were, in the middle of filming a doco about our personal journey through the fertility clinic for a fourth attempt at IVF, and we had already been spreading the good word about fertility issues in various media for quite a while.

  Fertility New Zealand is a charitable trust that offers support for anyone going through fertility treatment, as well as for the friends and families of people going through it. They offer advice and support, provide information, run seminars and online forums, and organise coffee groups. They charge a small membership fee but members receive a regular newsletter full of interesting information and stories.

  So, I started a blog for Fertility New Zealand. The blog was really helpful because I was giving advice and sharing my experience, but I was also receiving heaps of helpful advice. Hundreds of people started sharing their stories with me and every single one was different.

  Dom and I often get asked why we are so open about our fertility issues and our struggle to have a baby. There are many reasons, but I guess the most obvious one is this—Dom and I work on radio. We are paid to talk about our lives and to share moments of our lives and we try to find ways to use things we see and experience to entertain our listeners. So we are not shy about talking about ourselves. I absolutely understand why people would not wish to talk openly about IVF, but because we are so used to talking freely about life and all its challenges, we don’t have any fear about sharing our personal journey.

  The second reason is that it has been really therapeutic and helpful for us to talk about it. You know what it’s like when you have something you want to tell someone—it’s always a relief when you do. Maybe it’s that we are always looking to be comforted. It’s comforting to know that someone else understands what we are going through and it’s comforting knowing that we are not alone. It’s also comforting knowing there are people we can turn to when we need support.

  The third reason relates to what I said earlier—when I first learned we would need help having a child, I really wished I had already known something about what was involved. We hope that by sharing our story we can help make others feel better about their situation. So, that’s why we share our story.

  Two weeks into our fourth cycle, I was feeling pretty challenged as I succumbed to the drugs! I’d always prided myself on not having too many side effects but this time I was being taught a lesson. The first week and a half were the hardest as I surrendered to a non-stop headache and major lethargy. I seemed to survive on paracetamol and I kept bursting into tears over nothing. Late in the first week I had a major meltdown. Dom had set me off over something trivial—it was so silly I can’t even remember now what triggered it. I do remember it was something to do with work. So I stormed off and threw myself on the bed and cried hard.

  Dom came in and asked what was wrong. ‘I’m upset!’ is all I could muster. Then I decided I was going to quit my job and I had had enough. I was imagining what my letter of resignation would read. My eyes were swollen from the tears and I just could not pull myself together. In hindsight it was ridiculo
us—I had temporarily lost control.

  That weekend, Dom and I went to a friend’s wedding. Dom was a groomsman. The nurse at FertilityPLUS told me I should mostly avoid alcohol, but if I really felt the need I could have up to three glasses of wine a week at this stage. It’s quite hard to go through a wedding without drinking! Every two seconds, someone was asking me where my drink was or why I wasn’t drinking. One person came up and just shoved a glass of champagne in my hand. By then, I was over it. Why should I have to explain myself? Everyone seemed to need an answer, as if there was something wrong with me because I wasn’t drinking. I didn’t want to bore complete strangers with the truth so simply said ‘I’m saving myself for later.’

  Once the champers was thrust into my hand, I decided to go with it and ended up drinking one at the ceremony and one at the reception. I needed something to join in the toast to the bride and groom and a glass of orange juice wasn’t going to cut it—not cool enough.

  The few people who knew about the IVF got off my case about the booze, but infertility is a topic that brings the party down, isn’t it? So, we didn’t want to talk about it at our friends’ life-affirming celebration. People don’t know how to react or respond. It’s like telling people you have cancer or your mother has just died—it’s hard to make people feel at ease when you talk about it.

  I didn’t particularly enjoy the champagne—I hadn’t missed drinking wine at all even though I usually love a glass or two! The thing I missed most was my daily latte. I don’t think I have a caffeine addiction, but I had developed a 7 a.m. coffee-hit habit that I’d given up in order to keep my eye on the prize!

  I went for my first scan on a Wednesday to see how things are cooking down there. The TVNZ camera crew came with me, so things got a little crowded in the treatment room—the doctor was assisted by a nurse and there was a trainee doctor there, too. The doctor did her thing with the lubricated ultrasound probe and pushed on my ovaries for a close-up view of any follicles that were ripe enough to count. It was very crampy and uncomfortable and I was squirming and tensing up. She kept telling me to relax but, really, there were too many people in the room for that.