The words, “Another embryo transfer has failed,” hung heavy in the air, a stark reminder of a reality I had dreaded since our IVF journey began. Guilt gnawed at me – the fear of not being able to give our son a sibling, coupled with the grief of watching others celebrate second pregnancies. The thought of never truly closing this chapter without another attempt, even with a different approach, was unbearable. So, we decided to try one last time, seeking out a new consultant and transferring our final two embryos to his clinic.
Our initial foray into fertility treatment commenced in 2020. After months of trying to conceive naturally, a GP visit and subsequent blood tests revealed my results were all within normal limits. However, my husband’s semen analysis highlighted significant issues requiring further investigation. We soon learned that genetic and substantial male factor issues rendered natural conception impossible. IVF was our only viable path forward.
At 36, the potential six-month-plus wait for an NHS referral was a luxury we couldn’t afford. We opted for private care, focusing intensely on optimising both egg and sperm quality through lifestyle modifications, including diet, supplementation, and acupuncture. Our first frozen embryo transfer in 2021 was unsuccessful. However, our second attempt later that year proved to be the one, and our son was born in April 2022. It felt like an impossibly distant dream, finally realised. The initial IVF journey, while challenging, was relatively straightforward, and we hadn’t experienced the profound pain of loss.
When our son reached the age of two, my husband and I felt a strong pull to expand our family. Coming from a close-knit British/Cypriot heritage, where family is the cornerstone of life, the cherished memories of sibling bonds, holidays, and shared mischief made it imperative for us to give our son the gift of a sibling.
With five embryos frozen from our original 2020 cycle, the prospect of another child seemed more a matter of timing than possibility. Despite being 40 and my husband 41 at the time of our second transfer attempt, we weren’t overly concerned. Our embryos were cryopreserved, and we trusted in the available technologies to assist us.
However, our worst fears materialised as each subsequent embryo transfer failed. The heartbreak was profound. Our third transfer in 2024 resulted in a positive pregnancy test, but it was later confirmed as a chemical pregnancy – an extremely early miscarriage. The devastation was absolute. With only two embryos remaining, the suffocating fear of not being able to conceive again took hold. We felt entirely at the mercy of the IVF process, with so much beyond our control.
As a registered fertility nutritionist at Bliss Clinic in Chelsea, I had cultivated relationships with trusted specialists. This led us to undertake comprehensive immune testing before transferring our final two embryos to a new clinic.
Understanding Immune Factors in Implantation
Immune testing delves into various factors that can impede an embryo’s successful implantation. A biopsy revealed I had a ‘mixed immune profile,’ which created an inflammatory environment within the uterus, proving unreceptive to implantation. Tragically, our penultimate transfer in December 2024 yielded no pregnancy, leaving me at an emotional nadir as the year drew to a close. I reflected on the immense toll the year had taken on my emotional wellbeing. My social life had dwindled as I wrongly attributed my lack of success to stress.
The festive season, with its ubiquitous Instagram announcements of pregnancies, amplified my feelings of failure and emptiness. In response, I deactivated my account and scheduled a follow-up with our consultant. I made a solemn promise to myself: 2025 would be different. Regardless of the outcome, my focus would shift to cultivating joy.
Giving up was never a true option; expanding our family meant everything. Navigating any fertility journey is emotionally taxing. Social connection, engaging in joyful activities, and prioritising emotional wellbeing are as crucial as diet and medical interventions. Mindset coaching also played a significant role in helping me build resilience and move forward.
I consciously focused on the aspects I could control. I booked a yoga retreat with a friend, embarked on a work trip to Paris, and indulged in occasional facials. I enthusiastically embraced new work opportunities, deliberately staying present rather than fixating on the distant future. My husband and I significantly reduced our alcohol intake and paid close attention to our diet, which I believe contributed positively.
In October 2025, we transferred our very last remaining embryo. Miraculously, I am now finally pregnant. However, the trauma stemming from years of losses and setbacks did not vanish with that positive pregnancy test. IVF is rarely an instant solution, and unwavering patience is paramount.
This is where I found solace and crucial support in Carea, a pregnancy and postpartum wellbeing app. Carea is thoughtfully designed to support women’s physical, mental, and emotional health throughout the entire journey – before, during, and after pregnancy and birth. The app offers practical tools that empower women, fostering a sense of informed support and reducing feelings of isolation. It also provides a valuable community for women and their families.
For anyone navigating the complexities of secondary infertility or attempting to conceive after 40, my advice is to seek support early. Prioritise both your physical and mental health, and most importantly, hold onto hope. My husband and I have begun preparing the baby’s room and are talking to our son about his soon-to-arrive sibling, who is incredibly excited. We eagerly anticipate introducing our new arrival, due in June, to our son. We feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude for this pregnancy after so many failed IVF transfers, and we are fervently praying for a smooth and healthy progression.
