Mother’s Day is a bitter reminder of a year of paused fertility treatment
Women whose IVF was put on hold due to Covid-19 tell Margarette Driscoll of the devastating impact
This time last year, Amy Nolan was ecstatic. After five unsuccessful years of trying for a child, a first round of IVF had worked. On her 30th birthday, a pregnancy test came back positive. She could not have wished for a more precious birthday gift.
Six weeks later, bleeding, distressed and in pain, she was rushed to her local hospital near Southampton. There was widespread panic over Covid-19 and Britain had just gone into lockdown.
“When I said I’d had hot flushes – which were caused by the hormones I’d been taking – they flew off to get PPE. I was told I could not be seen until I had a Covid test. No one even mentioned checking my cervix. I was sent home to miscarry arry alone, alone,” says Amy, a primary school hool teacher.
Then came the realisation that there was no immediate ediate prospect of trying to get pregnant egnant again, as IVF clinics closed. ed. The year since has been marked rked by uncertainty and heartbreak eartbreak – not just for Amy, but for or thousands of other women and nd couples undergoing fertility ty treatment, which will be felt all the more acutely utely today, as families celebrate Mother’s s Day.
IVF clinics closed ed completely during g the first lockdown, , leaving women waiting for treatment ent in limbo, and nationwide provision ion is yet to fully recover. ver.
“Once I had got myself back into a state where I could even talk I rang the clinic and was told it could be 18 months s before I even got a follow-up appointment,” ment,” says Amy. The delay felt particularly ticularly cruel as fertility treatment was as the only hope Amy and her husband nd Elliot had of having a healthy child. ld. After suffering an ectopic pregnancy y followed by three miscarriages, investigations nvestigations had shown that Elliot t carries a chromosome disorder er called balanced translocation. on. They had already spent two years ars on the waiting list for specialist alist treatment.
Only one of Amy and nd Elliot’s 13 embryos had been n usable, so she was now faced with starting the lengthy process of ovary stimulation and egg collection again – with no idea of how w long it might be before that process could ould begin. Some fertility clinics ics became operational over the summer but social distancing means eans fewer patients can be seen and many ny clinics have been short short-staffed. staffed.
The situation is most acute for women approaching the cut-off age for treatment treatment, for whom time is running out. The National Institute for Health and Care Excellence (Nice) Nice) allows fertility treatment up to the age of 43, but l local clinical commissi commissioning groups are allowed to set their own age lim limit, which can be muc much lower. NHS Eng England has urged all cli clinics to give “s “sensitive and th thoughtful co consideration to w women facing these un unforeseen cir circumstances” who mi might have passed the age threshold. Clinics are doing their best to catc catch up and to give prio priority to older wom women, but CCGs have said rules will be applied on a “case by case” basis.
Research published in the journal Human Reproduction shows that it is older women who will be disproportionately affected by delays to treatment because of the pandemic, with a six-month delay resulting in an 11.8 per cent fall in live births in the 40 to 42 age group and a 12-month delay, marking a 22.4 per cent fall.
“There will be some people who never have a baby because of this,” says Kate Brian of the Fertility Network, the national charity which supports couples through infertility treatment. “Anxiety levels are high and the clinics don’t always know when they are going to be able to offer treatment.”
Rose*, 40, was thrilled last January when she and her husband were finally
approved for treatment, after
15 years of disappointment, including six miscarriages. They were due to sign the consent forms for treatment two days before lockdown. “You have to go through several miscarriages before it’s even looked into, then it takes months between appointments and every time a pregnancy fails, the sadness is overwhelming,” she says.
Having braced herself for trying through IVF, it was devastating to be told she could not go ahead.
“I was in the garden when I got a call saying the appointment was cancelled and it would probably be September before we knew whether we could move forward. I put down the phone and burst into tears,” she says. “September was when I would turn 40 and I didn’t know if that would put me beyond the age bracket. We didn’t sleep for a good few months.”
In the event, she was contacted by her clinic in the Midlands in the summer and had a first – sadly unsuccessful – round of IVF in August. She is hoping for a second in the next few months but says, “I’m aware my biological clock is shutting down.”
Lockdown has only intensified the emotional pressure-cooker. One woman waiting for treatment admits she ordered the drug metformin off the internet having read that it was a treatment for polycystic ovary syndrome (which she turned out not to have): “I think I must have been in quite a bad place,” she says.
The Fertility Network says there has been a big rise in women and couples getting in touch for support. “Every month that passes is a month when you are not pregnant,” says Brian, author of the Complete Guide to IVF. “We hope that health boards will look kindly on women affected by this.”
Delays to cancer treatments and screenings have naturally grabbed the headlines as the NHS has been consumed by Covid, but Brian says the impact on fertility treatment should not be underestimated. “Not being able to have children can be utterly devastating. There are constant reminders, friends announcing pregnancies and adverts featuring families and children every time we switch on the TV. We’re an incredibly family-oriented society but you don’t fully realise that until you can’t be part of it.”
The pandemic has also brought frustration for Flora* who turned 39 in October. She and her husband had been trying for a baby for nearly three years and were so determined to get help they moved house – from part of the home counties where they could not access NHS funding for IVF to one where they could – last February. They were given the go-ahead for IVF, a few days before lockdown, only to then face disappointment. They, too, had the first round months later in the summer, but it was not successful.
Working from home during the pandemic has made dealing with the situation harder, says Flora. “I feel as though I’ve been asked whether I have children about 50,000 times on Zoom calls… it hurts every time to say ‘no’.”
Amy remains hopeful. She managed to get NHS funding for a further two IVF cycles at a private clinic. She is now preparing herself to start the ovary stimulation procedure – injecting herself with hormones so eggs can be harvested to create an embryo – this week. “I’m telling myself this year can’t be as bad as last year,” she says.
‘There will be some people who never have a baby because of this’
For support and information contact fertilitynetworkuk.org
*Some names have been changed