‘I was told chemotherapy would leave me infertile’
Lisa Bunce, 34, lives in Leicester with husband Jamie, 36, and their children Thomas, 4, and Oliver, 1.
As I listened to the consultant, I felt numb.
"I'm afraid it's extremely unlikely you'll ever have children of your own," she told me. I was already stunned from discovering I had cancer.
Now, being told I'd never be a mum was too much to bear. Before that moment, I was blissfully happy with my husband Jamie. We'd been married for nearly a year and had always planned to have a family together. But then I began to feel unwell.
I was exhausted, had night sweats and my face and neck were very swollen. Eventually I was admitted to hospital for a biopsy and almost died in theatre. My lymph glands were so enlarged from a form of cancer known as non-Hodgkin lymphoma that they pressed on my windpipe and I couldn't breathe.
While I was sedated in intensive care, doctors told Jamie they needed to start chemotherapy straight away because the cancer was so aggressive. They told him the treatment would most likely leave me infertile and there was no time to harvest my eggs to use later on. I was 26.
He signed the consent form - what choice was there? Thankfully, after nine weeks of chemotherapy and a stem cell transplant, I went into remission. But my periods had stopped and tests showed I wasn't ovulating.
My longing for a baby became overwhelming. Everywhere I looked, mums were pushing buggies. When friends told me they were pregnant, I was happy for them, but I was filled with envy.
Jamie was so supportive. "All I want is you," he'd say. But I felt sad for him because I knew he'd be a great dad. ‘There must be some way I can have a child,' I told him.
I spent hours on the internet and decided to try to find an egg donor. After nine months on the waiting list, I was finally matched with a donor. Before I could begin treatment, the hospital needed to give my body a dummy run to see if my womb lining would be thick enough for the eggs to implant. So I was given drugs to bring on a false period.
A few weeks later, before I'd had the eggs implanted, I noticed my boobs were tender and my stomach hurt. I did a urine test at the hospital and the nurse told me, "You're pregnant!"
"I can't be!" I spluttered, and burst into tears. The doctors couldn't explain how I'd conceived naturally. My GP said if he was religious, he'd say it was a miracle because the chances had been so slight! I
had a perfect pregnancy. Thomas was born after a 12-hour labour, weighing 7lb 13oz. Jamie and I were both in tears as we cradled him in our arms.
When Thomas was 6 months, we decided to try again but I was only ovulating twice a year, and after two years of trying, we started fertility treatment. Then during a routine scan the nurse said, "I can see some egg follicles. I'd get busy if I were you!"
About four weeks later, I noticed my boobs were feeling tender. I did a pregnancy test and it was positive - we couldn't believe it!
Oliver was born in December 2005, weighing 8lb 8oz and he's made our family complete. When I watch my two gorgeous boys playing together, I feel so contented. Sometimes I can still hardly believe they're really here.
‘I had only six months left to get pregnant’
Sarah Quirk, 31, lives in Guildford, Surrey, with her husband Andy, 36, and baby Daniel, 4 months.
As I felt the familiar stomach cramps, my heart sank. My period was starting. I knew every month that passed, my hopes of becoming a mum were fading.
I was 21 when I started suffering from excruciatingly painful periods - sometimes I was in so much agony I'd pass out. "Unfortunately it's just bad luck," my doctor said. "Some women have painful periods and some don't." But, deep down, I was worried it might affect my chances of having children in the future.
It was nine years before I was finally diagnosed with endometriosis - a condition where tissue that normally lines the uterus grows around other organs. I had a huge mass of tissue around my left ovary, kidney and bowel, and the consultant said they might have to remove an ovary.
I was devastated. Andy and I had only recently got married. As the endometriosis was so severe, the doctor said my chances of conceiving naturally were very slim. I was in tears and so angry that it hadn't been diagnosed earlier.
You take it for granted you'll be able to have children and I felt like my body was letting me down. All my friends had babies and at times I did think, "Why me?"
A few months later, I had an operation to laser away as much of the endometriosis as possible and thankfully, they were able to save the ovary, which was a huge relief.
"When should we start trying for a baby?" I asked the consultant afterwards. "I'm afraid you only have six months to get pregnant," he said. "After that, you should think about IVF."
He explained that as each month passed, the endometriosis would start coming back, meaning I would have little hope of conceiving naturally. I was shocked - six months isn't very long, even when you have no problems. "It'll be okay," Andy said to comfort me. "Whatever happens, we'll work it out."
We knew the odds were stacked against us and having a "deadline" was a huge pressure. I worked out when I'd be ovulating and the best times to try. We tried to stay positive, but each time my period started, I was so disappointed.
Then in October 2005, after three months of trying, my period was late. I was pregnant! "Oh my God," I sobbed, kissing and hugging Andy.
Towards the end of my pregnancy my blood pressure rose and I prayed nothing would go wrong after coming so far. My Caesarean was brought forward and, thankfully, our baby was fine. I
t was a moment Andy and I thought would never happen and we just couldn't take our eyes off him. I'd love another baby, but for now I'm cherishing my time with Daniel - we feel like the luckiest parents alive. Where to find help... Infertility Network UK 08701 188088 or www.infertilitynetworkuk.com l Endometriosis UK 0808 808 2227 or www.endometriosis-UK.org l Lymphoma Association 0808 808 5555 or www.lymphoma.org.uk
