Interview with Alecia: How She Pivots Her Perspective

Tell us a little about yourself:

My name is Alecia, I am a 34 year old South African living in the Netherlands and am one of the ladies that sits in the waiting room that I never thought I would be in - the fertility treatment waiting room.

I feel if I did this piece 8 years ago it would have been a totally different person saying this, but this fertility journey has changed me, like so many others, so much. My husband and I got married quite young at 23 years old and we are celebrating our 11th wedding anniversary this month. We have two dogs in the Netherlands and two dogs still in South Africa with family. We have no children yet.

I am an attorney by profession but currently a legal compliance and risk officer for an international insurance company. My husband is a software engineer (amongst other things - he is a jack of all trades!).

I am (finally) absolutely in love with the life we built for ourselves after some really tough times. For much of my adult life, I felt like something was missing and I had to work really hard to overcome that and realize that my main purpose in life is perhaps not to be a mother, a difficult pill to swallow.

Happy Anniversary! You moved to the Netherlands after doing a few rounds of IUI and later IVF. How has the move changed your perspective, opportunities, or other circumstances?

We moved to the Netherlands during our surrogacy period for my husband's work. We thought this might be the fresh breath of air that we needed as the fertility journey can be suffocating to say the least. Our plan was laid out - if the first round of surrogacy worked we would probably go back home to South Africa. But if not, we will stay a little longer and enjoy a more uncomplicated life for a bit and see where the road takes us. But man, I was so sure the surrogacy would work!

The option to stay a little longer has now turned into our fourth year in the Netherlands. We absolutely love it here and adapted quite well. I do miss home and my family on a weekly basis, you can never shake the African soil from your feet or that deep longing for a conversation with someone you have known your whole life. The loneliness of having to deal with the failed surrogacy and two subsequent rounds of IVF is also hard to digest without the support of family nearby, though we have made wonderful friends here.

It sounds like you have made some very brave decisions! But let’s go back to the beginning. Tell us about when you first started trying to get pregnant, what did that feel like?

I still remember so vividly when we decided to stop taking contraceptives ( I was on the pill for years due to endometriosis). I was more nervous than excited, thinking about how a would baby influence my career and future plans. This is something that I felt guilty about for a long time afterwards. I had just turned 25 years old and thought, I am relatively healthy (I had limited knowledge of endometriosis at that time) and thought we would get pregnant by the December holidays, haha!

I think a lot of us share that experience of thinking things would go easier! At what point did you realize something was wrong, how did you discover your fertility issues?

About six months later, the first of our friends started falling pregnant. I was in denial for a long time until two of my best friends fell pregnant, had miscarriages, and then fell pregnant again soon afterward. It was then that I realized that perhaps something is wrong.

I did some research about different doctors and made an appointment at a fertility specialist (by this time, it was roughly 3 years later). I still remember how extremely nervous I was to bring up the subject with my husband (who was very chill and supportive about it all). So off we went for our first appointment, in a perfect little summer dress and all! Something the doctor said stuck with me - he said in South Africa about 30% of couples will have unexplained infertility. And yet I still thought to myself, poor people - luckily we won't be one of them.

We started with the standard hormone therapy, which did not work, then moved on to IUI, which we did three rounds of. During that time, I also went for a laparoscopy and hysteroscopy and some other surgeries to clear away the endometriosis. None of this worked and the doctor suggested we start IVF. I was about 27 years old.

We were excited and used our savings (there is no insurance for fertility treatment in South Africa) and started the process. It did not as hard for me as the excitement was way stronger than the way the hormones made me feel. We harvested 5 eggs of good quality which all made it to a 5 day blastocyst and transferred 2. But when this failed we were absolutely gutted. It was a Sunday afternoon when we found out from the blood tests that morning. My mother-in-law brought over some cooked dinner for us that night and we just cried. The next month we were at it again, still with no implantation. And before we knew it, we had done 6 rounds of IVF and ICSI in a 4 year period, all failed. There were changed protocols and we also began looking into adoption in between. I was diagnosed with the presence of (the controversial) NK-cells, for which I received Intralipid treatment for two rounds of IVF, still with no success. We were out of pocket, tired, emotional - every beaten up emotion that you can think of - and my body was tired. I was turning 31 that year.

This journey is so unfair, and so long. You mentioned having also tried surrogacy. How did you come to that decision?

Before we went on our December holiday in 2018, our dear friends met up with us and said they would love to be our surrogates after having walked around with the idea for two years themselves. We took the month of December to decide and decided to go with it. We were SO excited, but the emotional rollercoaster was so much worse than what I had expected. We had to bring a 60 page application to the High Court in South Africa. Our friends, my husband, and I all had to go for psychiatric evaluation. Both my friend and I had to undergo medical examinations, we had to get consent from future godparents, our finances were laid bare, and a bunch of other invasive steps. My friend and I attended court to give testimony on a Tuesday morning and I remember how sick to my stomach I felt from all these emotions. The court granted our wish to use a surrogate and it was quite painful to read out loud that our medical team did not think I can carry a child full term as part of the process, it felt so final.

During this time we also moved to the Netherlands. We only had one good quality embryo left and this was implanted on a Sunday morning and we could not be in South Africa, which was a bit hard for me. The two week wait started and by the end of this period of time, no implantation even occurred - the transfer failed and with that a lot of other things seemed to go down the drain. For all of these and other reasons out of our control, we could no longer continue with this path. It was an unfortunate door that closed for us. Surrogacy and the journey with it has left me deeply scarred.

After I picked myself up I decided to ask myself - what is my end goal in life? It was to look back and have happy memories with my husband and children. So the next question - How do you achieve that? By not giving up and trying again. So we booked an appointment with the fertility clinic in Amsterdam. We had now had two more unsuccessful rounds of IVF behind us, but the medical team here have a new set of eyes and are trying new things and we are hopeful for a future, and that is important.

However, my goal has shifted and I now feel I have the power to change what I want my end goal in life to look like. I am not ready to give up on the idea of children yet but I am also happy to know that I have the power to say “enough is enough”. I do not want the lines to become blurry - For example, am I trying to complete a task because I am goal orientated, or do I actually want a child of my own? For now I can say with confidence the latter is true and for that reason I am still trying and not giving up hope.

Thank you so much for sharing all of your journey, and where you ask yourself important questions. So would you say overall that your outlook has shifted since you began?

When we began our journey I was naive and always believed that you can get anything that you worked hard enough for. Obviously, this outlook on life has scattered into a million pieces. I treasure where I am in my life now, I treasure that I do not put happiness and money in the same sentence. I treasure my relationship with a wonderful man I get to call my husband. I treasure the people that have picked me up along the way. Through infertility I learned how to lead a grateful life, which sometimes feels like a paradox.

Speaking of gratitude, who are the greatest supporters to you throughout this journey?

My husband - what a freaking champ!! He goes about this journey nonchalantly and had to grow so much as a person himself, I am so proud of who he became.

My family - my parents, brother, and sister-in-law. I can't even recall the amount of times I called my dad crying and asking for advice on how a man can stay married to a woman who struggles to have children, my poor dad (what advice can anyone give to difficult questions like that?)!

My group of friends who have stood by me and supported me from the side, being all mothers themselves, crying for me when my tears have dried up and drinking wine with me when yet another round of IVF failed. (For the rest - stop using "I don't know what to say so I will just ignore it/you". Grow a pair and show compassion with anyone going through bad times, the world definitely needs more compassion!).

If you could share one thing with other people going through similar experiences, what would it be?

Two things :)

The moment I started to live again was when I looked at what I have right now and not think about what I don't have. Life is wonderful, sometimes you just have to look into another direction.

And, while this is such a lonely isolated part of your life, just remember, it does not define you or who you are as a person. You were made to be something amazing, perhaps not only a mother but something else as well.

Wonderful! Anything else you would like our readers to know about your experiences?

I still cry every now and again about not being able to be a mother. Years ago I would have hidden the tears, now I don't. It is a part of who I am and if that makes people uncomfortable then they should not sit at my table. Also, people will hurt your feelings, because they do not know how tough this journey is, speak about it and help to break the stigma.