‘It does your head in, Mike,’ Dom said. ‘It’s kind of like gambling in a way. It’s $15 000 for a round. Fortunately, we have qualified for funding until now. But now that we have to pay for it ourselves, you have to think, “How often will we try?” when you’re paying $15 000 a time.
‘We’re kind of lucky because we’re both working and we’ve both got pretty good jobs so we can come up with the money. A lot of couples can’t unless they re-mortgage the house or sell a car or something.
‘So, anyway, since the beginning of the year I have been going hard out. I’ve cut alcohol out of my diet, stopped having hot baths . . . and I love baths, hello ladies! I’ve been having a cup of sunflower seeds every single day just because it’s good for you.’ Dom went on to tell the listeners about all the other things he’d done to prepare his sperm and finished with, ‘I’m pleased to say, sperm count pretty good!’
Mike asked him for a ballpark figure and a comparison with last time.
‘Last time it was in the hundreds,’ Dom said. ‘This time about a million.’
Mike has been our friend and colleague for the duration of our relationship so he knows what we’ve been through together. ‘Go, You!’ he cheered . . . ‘So all of those things you did may have worked?’ Mike asked.
‘Maybe,’ Dom said. Then he talked about the good job Dr Richard Fisher had done.
‘Or Dick Fisher, as you call him when he’s fishing around in your balls for sperm,’ I joked.
‘So that’s the first hurdle jumped. Now it’s up to Jay-Jay, and her part of the process gets underway soon,’ said Dom. But he made another play for sympathy. ‘I tell you what though, mate—taxing! It takes a lot out of you.’
‘You’ve been bouncing around alright though, Dom. I forgot you had an operation,’ said Mike.
‘I’m still sore!’ he complained. ‘They sent me home with a box of paracetamol. Can you believe it? It’s like, come on, who are you kidding? You just opened up my scrote!’
‘You can’t still be sore!’ I protested. ‘You’ve been running!’ Dom had been running every day, training for the New York Marathon later that year, in November.
‘Ha ha, yes, but I’ve been wearing a tight speedo, he replied. Then, in another rare radio moment, Dom bared his soul.
‘But listen, there is nothing more exciting, and there is nothing that I absolutely want more in this life than to have my own family, my own kids. And if this doesn’t work I’m going to be devastated, and if this doesn’t work I’m not sure what we’ll do next. And this is something that unfortunately a lot of couples go through these days.’
It was not like Dom to go all serious on us on air. It was compelling.
‘Who knew he had a soft side?’ I whispered on air. ‘This is what I tell girls who say to me, “What do you see in that asshole?” Then I tell them, “He’s actually quite nice in real life!”’
Mike giggled.
Dom started reading text messages that were coming in from listeners and to provide balance he read messages of support and ones that thought we were talking crap. Yeah, there’s always a few haters that get through!
I looked down at the phones and saw they had all lit up, like a Christmas tree.
The first caller, Siobhan, was positive.
‘Hi, guys, I just wanted to say I hope everything works out for you and Dom this time around because it is a special time in your life when you’re trying to have a family.’
Dom replied, ‘There have been mixed texts. Some people say “I tune to The Edge because I want to hear good music and entertainment not all about some dude’s scrotum.” You know we don’t go on about these things but we sort of feel that you invite us into your house in the morning so we need to share a little bit of our lives with you.’
Mike and I were surprised by Dom’s sincerity that day and Mike tried to lighten the mood by hassling him about it. ‘Did Dr Fisher operate on something else while he was at it?’
Dom continued with his serious face.
‘I’m 38 years old and if this doesn’t work, we just won’t be able to have our own family. You know, you reach this stage in your life and you realise that you may not be able to have your own family, which makes you realise just how much it means to you. If I can’t have my own family it’s going to feel like my life is incomplete and for the rest of my life it’s going to feel like there is a big part missing and that’s a big thing to deal with.’
‘Really?’ Mike was surprised. ‘It’s sad you think like that. I’m a gay man and I never have that choice to have my own family, but I don’t feel like my life’s incomplete.’
‘We’ve still got Seven!’ I reminded him. ‘He’s hard work but he’s a little cutie!’
I answered another call, this one from Julia.
‘Hi, I feel sorry for you guys. I’ve got a daughter going through the same process. She’s got children by a previous marriage, but she would like to have one with her new partner, so they have had to resort to IVF like you. And I just hope everything works out for you because years ago I volunteered to be a surrogate mother for a friend, but in those days you couldn’t do it. So it’s pretty tough knowing that there are people like you and Dom who would probably love to have a large family. But if you go on IVF you could have eight multiple births! Ha ha ha. I don’t think that would worry you two would it?’
‘Umm . . . it would actually!’ I laughed. And for a second I think about it. Ouch, be careful what you wish for!
‘No it wouldn’t!’ Julia argued. ‘Jay-Jay, if you were told you were pregnant with twins, you’d be over the moon.’
‘Well, my mother wouldn’t be moving out, that’s for sure!’ I laughed. ‘And I’d never lose the baby weight!’ After an ad break we were back on the air and we’d had a lot more feedback.
‘I wasn’t going to talk about it this time,’ I said awkwardly.
‘I just feel uncomfortable talking about it’ . . . sigh . . . ‘I don’t know why. I just feel like people are sick of us talking about it. I don’t want to bore people and tell them all my problems.’
‘But it’s relatable to a lot of people,’ Mike quipped.
Dom chipped in. ‘There’s two camps. Whenever you talk about it you’ll get people who text in saying, “Ah, it’s a radio station. Play some music,” but, you know, I feel, like, an obligation. People have us in their cars, in their workplaces, in their homes, we like to share with you what’s going on in our lives from time to time.’
I agreed with Dom. Then we took a call from Nicky.
‘You guys have made me cry. It’s nice to hear a man who is so keen to be a father because you hear of so many that aren’t. That don’t give a shit. That don’t care they’re fathers and leave children all over the place, and here you have one that wants to be a dad. Jay-Jay, you’re a very lucky woman.’ I had to agree with Nicky, given my own experience of Absent Father Syndrome—it’s rife in my family.
I said, ‘There are a few dads between my siblings and none of them have been around. They’ve all just taken off and left all the responsibility with the mother. It’s so gutless and makes me so angry.’
Dom rescued me by lightening the mood, ‘I’m a doting dad! I just can’t have any kids!’ We all laughed because it was true. ‘I’m walking around with one of those empty front packs on like the dude in “The Hangover.”’
Then we took a call from Amy. ‘Hi guys. I think it’s good that you’re sharing your story. I listen to you every morning on my drive to work, and it’s usually fun and laughs and making fun of each other. But when I heard you this morning talking about your struggle to have a baby, it actually broke my heart. You guys put up such a good front and we don’t actually realise what you’re going through. I think it’s good to share your story.’ I almost felt like crying.
‘We need the next generation of good radio, so come on guys!’ Amy laughed.
The next call was from Charlie, who sounded like a hard case, macho, Maori bloke. He was cal
ling to brag about his fertility and to recommend we take up smoking weed because it worked so well for him.
‘So, what are you saying exactly, Charlie?’ I asked, because I wanted to be sure.
‘Go get high and see what happens after that!’
‘Not quite the advice I got from our fertility doctor, Richard Fisher, but I’ll run with that Charlie!’ joked Dom.
The last call we took was from Charlotte.
‘I just wanted to tell you that I’m doing my midwifery degree at the moment and we’re using your IVF doco from the Sunday program for education.’
‘Really?’ I asked. ‘What are you studying it for, in particular?’
‘Just the different treatments around . . . And a lot of people in New Zealand struggle with fertility so it has been really good to have your documentary as a resource.’
Wow! How about that?
IN HIS OWN WORDS—DOM’S JOB
Testicular sperm aspiration—just saying the words out loud is enough to make a man wince and cup his genitals. A lot of men have vasectomies and most of them will have put it off for as long as possible out of fear and nerves. I imagine the TESA is much like a vasectomy. For me, the build-up is horrible—it’s just about as bad as the recovery.
I wonder why they can’t come up with an anaesthetic pill instead of the giant needle that goes into the ball sack—just that thought is bone chilling! Once my nuts are numb, the doctor slices into my scrotum and scrapes out some skin tissue that should contain sperm and then stitches me shut. The whole procedure is real quick—it’s all over in about twenty minutes.
I’d be a terrible liar if I told you it was quick and painless. Arriving home wearing a pair of mesh-bandage underpants with instructions to take things very easy for at least a week—cancel that mechanical bull ride—is a pain in the arse. Still, the relief after having it done is huge.
Luckily, most men going through IVF or ICSI don’t need to have their nuts cut, but having the TESA at least meant I felt like a participant in the IVF process rather than just being a cheerleader from the sideline.
Fifth IVF cycle
This section is a diary I kept of our last IVF cycle. It’s something I wish I had done since we first began treatment. In the beginning, as a radio host, I relied on sound recordings. Later, all the excitement and disappointment of our fourth IVF cycle was recorded by the Sunday team and broadcast on prime-time television.
Each time we start an IVF cycle, Dom and I talk about whether we’ll have the strength to try again if it doesn’t succeed. This was our fifth cycle and each one takes its toll. In case this turned out to be our last, I decided to keep a written day-by-day diary, which I’m sharing here.
It’s in two parts. The first part covers the first thirteen days and ends with egg collection. The second part follows the progress from then on, including fertilising the eggs with Dom’s sperm and the development of embryos, the transfer back into my uterus, implantation and testing for pregnancy.
EGG COLLECTION DAY ONE—16 JUNE 2012
I have never been so excited to get my period. I felt the aches coming on overnight and I couldn’t wait for the morning for the first sign of blood. Usually I’m whingey and moany because of the cramps, but today was different. At the first sign of red, I was ecstatic. The baby-making begins today. I waited about an hour to go to the toilet again to be sure before calling the nurses’ answerphone.
‘Hello, Nurses. Jay-Jay Feeney here. Guess what? It’s Day One! I’m soooo excited! So call me back so I can come in and get my jabbing stuff. Eek! Bye!’
Perhaps I was a little over the top but I couldn’t hide the way I felt.
At the start of my previous four cycles, I had always felt nervous and anxious, but this time was different. I had a good feeling, but I certainly didn’t want to jinx it. Anyway, I’d already imagined our baby and I’d never done that before. Perhaps it was the Citalopram the doctor had prescribed but this time I was feeling relaxed. Why hadn’t I taken that stuff earlier?
The nurse called back within an hour and I was bouncy on the phone. She seemed to be going through the motions. She hadn’t picked up on my excitement and used her serious tone, checking off the set questions before finishing with, ‘Okay. We will need to book you in for a few things,’ before rattling off the list.
I needed to visit the clinic today or tomorrow to pick up the Gonal-F I was going to have to inject myself with tomorrow night and to get some scans and blood tests taken. ‘I’ll see you within the hour,’ I told her and hung up.
For the rest of the day I kept checking to see if I still had my period. How much blood determines a period? I had enough blood to know I had my period this morning but then all through the day I was dry, but by that evening it had started again. Is it really Day One? I am confused.
DAY TWO—17 JUNE 2012
I woke with the same amount of blood as the day before and I’m tired and achy. Yep, this feels like the real deal. But it’s not a lot of blood. Is today Day One? I called the clinic. The nurse returned my call and I felt like an idiot.
‘I was so excited yesterday!’ I told her. She understands and knows it is hard to be sure of a Day One, sometimes, but we decide to go ahead as planned. I feel relieved.
Dom and I take Dom’s mum, Sue, who lives about 500 metres from our house, to brunch and she is very excited at the thought that we could have a baby soon. ‘I’m trying not to get too excited,’ she tells us. ‘But I’ve got a good feeling.’ Everyone says that every round of IVF and this time I feel relaxed and optimistic, too.
Jumping the gun, Sue asks us if we will find out the sex of the baby. It’s not something I’ve really thought about before but I don’t like surprises—I like to be prepared and organised, so I think the answer is yes.
Plus, Dom would not be able to help himself, either. And forget keeping it a secret. That’s also a flaw of Dom’s—he’s no good at keeping a secret. Dom joked that I’d give the game away, too, by buying so much stuff online in either pink or blue. I didn’t argue with him about that.
It’s recommended women have a BMI of 20 to 25 when doing IVF. I have tried so many times to lose weight for this, but I keep falling off the wagon because I love carbs and I don’t exercise much. I go in three-month bursts of a new exercise regimen and then I quit. It’s so irritating—I could slap myself.
I know I have major body-image issues. I can’t help it—I hate my body, but today I weighed myself for the first time in months. Without the happy pills I would have cried. I’m the heaviest I have ever been. I’m only 163 centimetres tall—or short, as the case may be—so my BMI is not ideal. I reckon I could do with losing about 10 kilograms and if the IVF doesn’t work this time, I will hate my body even more. I will blame my chubbiness. It’s too late now. What will be will be.
I’ve decided that I will take my injections at 6 p.m. each night. By then, I’m usually in my comfiest stay-at-home gear—track pants and bed socks. My phone alarm lets me know when the time has come. I wash my hands and lay everything out on the bench. I should be an old pro at this but it has been two years since I last did IVF so I need to be reminded. Luckily, I have just watched the DVD the clinic gave me that shows each step of administering Gonal-F.
My mum and Dom are in the lounge and I hadn’t realised Dom is watching me until he yells out, ‘Ooh!’ just as I am hovering the needle over my stomach.
I plunge the needle into the chunk of tummy fat I’m squeezing. The needle doesn’t hurt going in at all. It starts hurting as Gonal-F passes through the needle and into me. Yep, that stings. I withdraw the needle and immediately put on some SkinCalm cream, as recommended by a friend of mine who is a nurse. Instantly, the sting is gone. Thank you, Carmel, that’s the best tip, ever! Dom and Mum cheer and I feel as if we’re off to a good start this time.
Not long after the injection I start to feel quite crampy and bloated but I put it down to period pains. I also have a killer headache. That’s right, I remember now. But I�
��m excited so I’ll get over it.
DAY THREE—18 JUNE 2012
When the headaches are still happening by the third night of injections, I know it has something to do with the drugs. I’ve already got my first bruise from my second injection and figure it won’t be long before my stomach looks like it’s been in the ring for a round or two with Chris Brown.
I have to go to Fertility Associates in three days to start a second drug called Cetrotide, which means we are entering new territory. I have stay for fifteen minutes to be monitored.
I’m having my first scan on Saturday morning so I book in for a bikini wax. Do you think the doctor will notice the effort I went to? Hopefully he just thinks I’m naturally well groomed!
I am not a religious person at all, but almost every cycle of IVF I have received mail from someone wanting God to help me conceive. I have to admit, the letters are always a bit wacky and they usually include an offer to pray for us. I’m always flattered when people take the time to write to me, but I also feel it would be hypocritical of me to ask people to pray for me when I do not pray myself.
DAY FOUR—19 JUNE 2012
So far, while we’ve been having IVF treatment, Dom and I have been offered up to a dozen donations of sperm, a few eggs, quite a few surrogates and so far one baby. Today, I was offered another baby.
My immediate feeling was of concern for the sixteen-year-old girl, who’d found out she was pregnant and was terrified of telling her father. She wanted to do the right thing, and I wanted to be able to give her the right advice. But I was torn, wondering if it was a sign. Should I take the gift that was being offered or continue on my IVF journey? I didn’t think I could do both.
After exchanging a few emails, I was relieved to hear she had decided to tell her dad so they could make decisions together and she could get the family support she needed. I’m not sure I want to open the can of worms and take this one on.
Misconception Page 11