So how did I end up here?
Well unfortunately, in terms of the 'why me?', we'll probably never know. Since my diagnosis, I have been tested for the BRCA1 and BRCA2 genes that are most often responsible for breast and ovarian cancer where there's a family history, and I don't carry either - despite my mum and maternal granny both having been diagnosed with and treated for breast cancer. The other common cause of clear cell carcinoma in the ovaries is endometriosis - something that was suggested as the cause of my monstrous periods over the years but of which no evidence was ever found. So that leaves us with the last explanation, which isn't really an explanation at all: Just Really, Really Bad Luck.
The Really Really Bad Luck unfortunately doesn't stop here, and is the other part of how I ended up being diagnosed at 35 with a pretty rare and aggressive type of cancer, for which I had no symptoms.
***
When Gary and I were in the getting-to-know-each-other's-life-goals part of our relationship, children were naturally included in the discussions. We were quite young at the time - in uni or recently out the other side of it - and the time wasn't right, but we both envisaged Future Us as being parents. Even in 2013, when we got married, it was still a little bit too soon; money was tight, there was no rush, we wanted to enjoy being married for a while first... As it happened, Gary was very much ready quite a long time before I was - something he has spoken about in his own blog, IVFManBlog. It took me a good few more years, and the relaxation of a fairly all-consuming lifestyle change that began in 2015, to come around to the idea, before realising the time felt right in September 2018.
But then 2018 ended, 2019 began, 2019 ended... and nothing had changed. Month after month, like clockwork, my period would start right on cue. Month after month, I'd have to break the news to Gary. Significant days came and went - Mother's Days, Father's Days, Christmases, Gary's birthdays, my birthdays - that felt like a kick in the stomach as I longed to share news of a positive test while never getting close to needing to take one. Pregnancy announcements from friends, family and colleagues, new babies, celebrations... For us, nothing. We knew that this wasn't uncommon, or necessarily anything to worry about, but we were still surprised. I started my periods at the age of 10, they had been regular from about 12 and despite being painful and heavy (alarmingly so, at times), no explanation was ever really given; naively, I assumed that fertility would never be an issue.
By February 2020 we decided that it couldn't hurt to speak to a GP and just make sure that there wasn't something obviously wrong, although I was a bit apprehensive to do so and was sure our concerns - which were barely more than a sense of 'What's taking so long?' - would be brushed off. I needn't have worried - Dr Haffenden was lovely, listened to our story, took our histories down and apologised that, as there was only one test for male fertility compared to an absolute raft of investigations for women, Gary would be investigated first and nothing else would happen until that had been done.
When Gary's results came back fine, it was over to me. My hormone levels were checked, bloods were taken for various tests. The only thing that came back was low iron - no surprises there, it wasn't the first time, but certainly nothing that could be responsible for infertility. And so we were referred to Mrs Reddy at the Cotswold Fertility Unit in Cheltenham.
(To be continued)
