And so, despite all our reservations, in a way that when it came to it, almost seemed inevitable (we couldn’t not….), we made the decision to go again. After the issues we’d had with our previous clinic, we decided to transfer our care to another clinic that we trusted. 

And, after an initial consultation, in which I basically told them that I’d like to do pretty much a carbon copy of what we’d done before — same protocol, same drugs (minus the bit where my old clinic failed to check to see if I was ovulating), we were back on the familiar path of injections and scans and blood tests and waiting…

It was all the same, but different. As well as fitting things around work, I had to fit them around childcare, my living, breathing proof that this really could work. But I was painfully aware of that privilege, of knowing that while we wouldn’t be doing this if we didn’t want it to work, we were so damn lucky that we already had the child that we did have.