The Thyroid Diaires Two- The Infertility Chapter!!!

Oh Gang.

I feel like a super ridiculous massive FRAUD. 

For anyone taking a little scroll through my instagram the last few months- it would be easy to believe I’ve been living my very best boujee life. 

There I am- soaking up the sunshine in Dubes- rolling with the rich and famous in Hollywood- dancing in my PJs at the Trevvi Fountain- and when I’m not at work ..i’m apparently a country bumpkin. 

Yepppppp- i’ve done that classic thing we are all guilty of. And I’m truly annoyed at myself for it. 

Because I have only been flaunting you guys the highlights. 

But the truth is- is that what’s going on behind the scenes has been a hell of a lot more chaotic. 

A complete and utter shit show to put it bluntly. 

And I think it was about time I filled you guys in on what the flying F has been going on since we last got deep.

There I was- last February- spilling my little heart out to you all– and promising to take you on my journey- and then I go and DISAPPEAR ON YOU ALL. 

WTF SAMMY?????

I’m so sorry. 

I’ve not purposefully been hiding anything from you- but SO much has happened- that I couldn’t quite keep up. And truthfully- it has taken me another 20 months to be able to process and put into words the truth. Sometimes when your in the thick of the shit there’s just no light at the end of the tunnel- and I don’t think my words would have made any sense. 

So instead- I hid it all- I came on to instagram to share Teddy bear highlights, and make you laugh and feel happy and essentially – hide from my reality.

But now I feel ready to talk about it all. Because I did promise you the good, the bad and the UGLY.

So if you are all ready…without further ado…roll up, roll up…. because the next chapter of my Thyroid Diaries are here.

And after that truly chaotic read last year, I trullllly wish that this next installment was going to be a

calm

happy 

Sereneeeee

and dare I say it….. magical read.

As I anxiously uploaded my blog into the world last year I manifested and manifested and prayed hard that the next time I updated you all I would have some really wonderful news. 

I TRULY hoped and believed that one day I would be able to reveal that after three years of pure hell we would finally get our happy little ending to complete my perfect family. 

BUT. 

Like every stunningly gripping story, I can reveal- that there has infact- been a ….drum roll…..major plot twist…….Kl.

But look. Let’s not panic???????

Maybe these diaries weren’t meant to just be a one off read????

Because that’s wayyyyyy too easy and predictable. 

I dunno about you guys but no Netflix drama I’ve ever been invested in has been a happy easy ride.  Cos I’d SWITCH OVER. BORINGGGG. GIRL BYE.

Maybe just maybeeeee, my Thyroid Diaries was just the beginning of this epic tale. 

And what’s a story without a few- aka A LOT of bumps, and twists and turns?

So instead, I’m going to call this …….the ummmm….… middle chapter?!?! 

Hmmm, I know, not quite the vibe, it needs major work. But stick with me here.

What I am trying to say is.. if you lot came here to have a niceeeee calm read…. my friends, this is not the place for you.  

But what I CAN promise you is… CHAOS. Oh so much chaos. 

Drama. With one or two or ten emotional breakdowns.

And a little bit of mayhem sprinkled on the top.

Oh FFS I’m exhausted already.

But if you are still here and want to stick around for the fun, I genuinely can’t thank you enough. 

Right, are you all ready???? Don’t say I didn’t warn you……

The Infertility Diaries

Before we dive right in, I do want to quickly put up a sensitive warning that I am about to start discussing a subject that can be incredibly triggering to some people. 

And unfortunately this horrible word, that has taken over my life, is Infertility. 

A word I truly hoped would never become my daily reality. 

But instead has completely and utterly taken over my entire existance since December 2022.

This might come as a big shock to people who see me day to day- especially my close work friends- because I have learnt how to put the biggest most bravest ‘everything is okay’ mask on between 9-6. 

Should have stayed in Hollywood TBH.

But it has got to the point where wearing this mask is quite frankly exhausting.

I am completely and utterly emotionally drained. And I have nothing left in the tank.

Dealing with infertility after already having a baby has been a very confusing, complicated and tricky thing to navigate and understand.

I have genuinely been so utterly nervous to post this blog because I truly know from the bottom of my heart how lucky I am to have Teddy Bear. Knowing that there are other girls out there who may be going through terrible health problems, or struggling with infertility whilst trying for their first baby breaks my heart in half imagining their struggles. And that is why it has taken me months to pluck up the courage to post this as I never ever ever ever want to come across as ungrateful or that I want people to feel sorry for me.

As I sit here typing, I currently have a 100 degrees water bottle shoved down my stomach due to another agonising period, my laptop balanced on my left knee, whilst my little angel who is attached to my hip is snoring on my right knee. 

He is my constant source of happiness throughout another year of horribleness. 

And for every painful memory I am about to type, every bad story I about to tell you, he is here, right by my side, through thick and thin, making everything better and reminding me of how much happiness I have- my 2 foot rascal of joy.

I can only imagine some of you must be thinking to yourself right now…. ‘But hun- why do you want to share all of this????’

And my answer is simple. 

Since starting this tiny little blog- all I have ever wanted to do is to bring us girlies together.

To show that if you are currently struggling- I PROMISE YOU- you are not alone.

To build up a community filled with strong, brave and incredible QUEENS.

To bring some light and humour into some really dark and really really shitty situations.

To show that if someone is living their best insta life- actually- behind the scenes- it might be a total different story.

And for people to realise that EVERYONE is going through their own shit even if social media makes you think otherwise.

And maybe, just maybe, I can hopefully raise some awareness too.

Incredibly, since bringing my Thyroid Diaries blog out into the world it has become apparent that I seem to have miraculously built up a little platform and community of amazing loyal readers. And whilst that platform is a tinyyyyy little tressle table compared to the multi sound stage platform at the 02- it has absolutely blown my mind that my silly little words have genuinely helped some of you amazing girlies to go and get yourselves checked for your Thyroid this year. 

The amount of old friends, and new friends, and strangers I connected with after releasing My Thyroid Diaries out into the world truly and utterly blew me away. I also realised that there are unfortunately a lot of us suffering with health in silence inside, but going out into the world every day with a big fat smile of our face. 

Legends- the lot of us- we should be so proud.

And if I have learnt one thing from being brave and open last year, it is that talking TRULY HELPS. I have bonded with so many of my close friends on a whole deeper level this year because they now know every single, and I MEAN EVERY SINGLE detail of my struggles, rather than being embarrassed and hiding it all from them. 

Whats that saying? A problem shared is a problem halved– and my god has that been true. Writing my blog gave me the strength and power to feel like- you know what-  

its really really okay to NOT BE OKAY.

I’m going to have good days, I’m going to have incredible days and I’m going to have some terribleeeee days- but as long as I’ve got my family and friends and my Teddy Bear by my side- everything will eventually be okay.

And I want this blog to be your safe space. 

Whenever I have a medical worry, and wow has there been a shit ton in the last few years, a major major coping mechanism for me is to research and read blogs to show me that I’m not alone. Knowledge is power. 

I have spent a lot of time researching infertility this year- and although there is lots of over whelming medical information out there- weirdly I haven’t been able to find any relatable blogs about girls who just can’t fall. At all. Their body refusing to play ball. 

So I wanted to put this out there into the world and make someone else feel less alone.

And the thought that some of my words could hopefully make someone else feel a lot less alone is enough to make me carrying on speaking out. Even if I do royally embarrass myself in the process.

So where was we?

Ah yes, lets re—eee—-wind- all the way back to last Xmas.

It’s December 2022.

Snow is falling. 

All around us. 

Tonsilitus… everywhere. 

I have just got over my third bout of it but feel like I have another cold coming, cute.

Ohhhh and I’m back at my fave place in the world about to collect my Thyroid results after another intense testing sesh- the hospital- yayyyyy.

 

Christmas 2022- Thyroid Results Day.

My Thyroid Specialist: “Your results are perfect. Go and make a baby”.

Silence.

My Thyroid Specialist: “Did ya hear me hun? I said your results are perfect. Go and make a baby”.More Silence.

Cos surely not???? Ive literally waited two years to hear those words come out of his mouth.

But there we were- a bloody sensational early xmas and bday present from Santa if I do say so myself.

And then we went home and drowned in Quality Streets and Christmas Pud and lived happily ever after.

Except. We all know that is a big fat LIE, and the real fun begins round about NOW….

 

Infertility.

So- i’m sure it hasn’t taken a genius to work out- that hiiiiiiiiii- I’m still not pregnant. 

The truth is, is that we have been trying for a baby for nearly two years. And sadly our journey has been quite the yucky struggle.

And wow, have we have been through ALL of the feels. To the point where now I am slightly numb to it all.

This might sound completely ridiculous- but do you guys think it can be possible to feel the HAPPIEST you have ever felt- but also the saddest you have ever felt at the same time? Because this is how I feel. 

My darling Teddy brings me SO much joy, every second of every day, in fact I could cry just by imagining his little egg head of dreams. 

He is my happiness and my heart. 

But alongside that- my infertility, and ongoing Thyroid struggles are totally and utterly consuming me, and I feel like I live with a big dark cloud over my head that is CONSTANTLY trying to ruin my sunny parade.

Unfortunately I am sure a lot of you can back me up when saying that trying for a baby and seeing ‘NOT PREGNANT’ on the stick, or unexpectedly waking up to a heavy painful period after weeks of dreaming and praying can be utterly heartbreaking. Whether it is the first month or the tenth month, or in our case the 22nd month-  that feeling of bitter disappointment and sadness is one that can’t really be explained or put into words. 

But I know you lot get it. It’s just the worst worst club to be a member of. 

Can I get a refund please?

The longer my journey has gone on for, naturally the more stressful and frustrating it is becoming- and I am going to go into a lot more detail soon as to why my body is being a real dick (again) to me. But i’ll save that exciting part for later.

The trouble is- whilst my pregnancy- especially my first trimester- with my angel chops darling came with a whole bucket load of stress…..the actual falling pregnant part was scarily like a dreamy film.

I was extremely lucky enough to fall within one month of trying, which in the long run has totally and utterly created a false sense of security for me this time round- and as I skipped out of the hospital in December 22 with my Thyroid results in my hand utterly ELATED, I had no idea of the struggles I was about to face.

Another coping mechanism I have in life, is to want to make EVERYTHING feel magical. I love planning and creating special moments. And whilst my positivity and creativity is one of my biggest strengths in life- it can also be one of my biggest down falls- because when something doesn’t go quite the way I planned, it feels even more gut wrenching.

(Lol you think I would have learned by now that life can be a right bitch- but nahhh sometimes I still think I’m living in a Disney movie- ya silly billy).

So without going into the ins and out- cos lol- hi mum and dad xoxoxoxo

Lets just say every single month I have set myself up for a major MAJOR fail.

My body has been playing really horrible tricks on me- and for months on end I truly truly believed that THIS IS IT. Im finally going to get my happy ending. And then the next day – BAM- everything went horribly wrong.

Every month, in my ridiculously naive, positive mind frame, I planned and dreamed and imagined how the big reveals/announcement to my nearest and dearest could have potentially played out. 

And here is a cute lil example breakdown of what has been going down in my silly little head over the last 22 months. 

Month one of trying- December 2022/ Jan 2023.

Dream Announcement reveal: The Wrap party of Squid Games The Challenge. 

I mentally got myself through a ridiculous and intense filming schedule by telling myself that there was a light at the end of the tunnel because- by finale night- I would absolutely be preggers. And we would all do a little toast and have a big group hug and YAYYYY lets double celebrate!!!

First failed test/Period- An absolutely early and unexpected period, the day before the first filming day. I then had to drive 100 miles to location absolutely gutted, in agony, and walk in with a big brave face and pretend like nothing was wrong.

Month two of trying- February 2023.

Dream Announcement reveal: We’re off to Soho Farmhouse for my late bday pressie yay. 

Gonna pack a preggers test- and do it five mins before we go to Pen Yen for din dins so we can celebrate over a mocktail hehehehe.

Second failed test/Period- Oh this was A LOT. Another unexpected period on the morning of valentines day STUNNING… Cue utter disappointment again. But then WAIT… “why is there no more blood?” The days go on, and the period has disappeared. “Hmmmmm strange, could this possibly be implantation?” “Dont get your hopes up. DON’T get your hopes up. But… it MUST be? Theres no other explanation????”. “Oh wait I also have a tummy ache. Oh wow its really really painful. Whats happening?” I can’t even drive. Must pull over. Severe gripping pain. Hmmm This doesn’t feel right??”.

Cue seven days later where WOW OKAY, I’M BEING SICK. This is my WORST. NIGHTMARE. EVER. AND. I. AM. SOBBING. BUT. IT’S. FINE. BECAUSE. I. MUST. BE. PREGGERS. YAYYYYYY. VOMMMM. SOBBBBBB. WAZZA GET THE BLOODY PREGNANCY TEST. ITS IN THE F******* SUITCASE. HURRY THE F UP. VOMMMMM.

Sammy. I’m so sorry. You’re not pregnant. WAIT. WHAT? 

Sooooo- that was month two. No baby. Just a cute bout of gasteritius. Happy holidays xoxo.

Month three of trying- March 2023.

Dream Announcement reveal: It’s mummy 60th WOOOO. Were off to surprise her at a stunning little cabin at Wilderness Reserve- so I’ll wrap up the stick that will one henna percent be positive and give it to her as a present. Cos surely third time lucky and all that…

Third failed test/Period- The morning we were setting off- I received a belated anniversary surprise of one of the worlds most heaviest periods of all time.

Month four of trying- April 2023.

Dream Announcement reveal: No fancy reveal planned here, I was in studio mode prepping for the filming of Celebability and wishing with my whole heart that this might just be the month it all works out.

Forth failed test/Period- Came on in the ITV toilets before two weeks of an intense filming schedule. Yipppeee.

Month five and six passed by in a blur….no hilarious story to report back on… just a tired little hun running on empty but never without that glimmer of hope…. So by now you lot get the drift. 

It was the same shit. Different month. Eat, Sleep, Negative Test, Repeat.

The trouble was, by month seven of no good news I was starting to feel really triggered at having a pregnancy test in the house. That tiny little white plastic piece of doom was causing me the utmost anxiety, sadness, disappointment and was constantly bringing me bad news. 

So I stupidly- oh my days what a fool-  I made the decision to just stop taking tests. 

It was just my silly way of processing and dealing with the situation I was in. 

In my eyes-  If I wasn’t on my period when I was due- and I didn’t have the word NOT PREGNANT laid out in front of my eyes- then there was still hope. 

And hope was ALL I HAD.

But in the long run this silly idea caused me a LOT more pain- because my all over the place periods- constantly liked to trick me and surprise me. And between May- July 2023- whilst I had the utmost hope at my ‘period no shows’- it was like being hit by a triple decker bus when I finally did come on HEAVILY weeks later.

Month seven of trying- July 2023.

Dream Announcement reveal: Now month seven was a bit of a breaking point for me.

Seventh failed test/Period- Ohhhhh let me tell you- this was a MOMENT. Imagine the scenes- pulling up at Gatwick Airport at 4am before my incredible family cruise- after 6 weeks of no period- with the biggest hope in my heart- before realising that I had- in fact- just leaked all over my new divine adanola leggings whilst munching down on a Blueberry muffin in Pret. Utter disappointment AND A RIDICULOUSLY PAINFUL PERIOD ON HOLIDAY- FFS- SOME ONE GIVE ME A BLOODY BREAK.

It was at this point that I knew I probably needed to get some medical help. It was time to call the big dogs in. 

 

THYROID TIME AND FERTILITY CHECKS

Last summer I found myself in a chaotic whirlwind of working full time on Big Brother, which was by no means a calm or relaxing contract, with ANY day off I had being spent in a hospital waiting room. Life was 10000 miles an hour. 

I was trying to be the best producer I could possibly be on an intense 24/7 show, the best mummy possible who had MAJOR guilt because I was constantly in the studio or stuck on the A406 whilst trying to rush home for bedtime, all whilst spending the majority of free time I had being prodded and poked by needles, having probes shoved up me and constantly worrying about my health. But see me in person you would never know any of this was going on. It was all smiles and giggles and silliness on the outside- and that is why I truly believe you should never ever ever judge someone at face value- because we don’t know half the shit that is going on in someones life.

The yucky thing about my Thyroid situation is that even when things are good, and I’m off medication, I ALWAYS feel like I am a ticking time bomb. Always waiting for something bad to happen. One slight blip and it might all reset back to hell again. And that at ANY moment my levels could turn for the worse and I will go back to square one. Which SPOILER ALERT- I have done. But waittttttt- lets not get carried away– back to last summer we go…..

Having been off the meds since December- around July 2023 I was starting to feel not quite myself. The anxiety was slowly building, I felt a little breathless at times, and my heart was banging a lot.

Here we bloody go again.

And now I recognised the signs I became even more aware of my situation. So in the middle of August I went back to hospital to get checked. 

Now, before Dec 22, not to brag and all that, but I had become somewhat of a – dare I say it- brave boss bitch with needles. 

But six months without checks had completely and utterly reversed any sign of bravery and I was ABSOLUTELY BLOODY SHITTING MYSELF.

Now for anyone with needle phobias, who are struggling to breathe through fear PLEASE back me up here when I say the last thing we want to hear whilst having a needle stuck in you are those five horrendous words. 

‘We. can’t. find. a. vein’. 

That sentence is enough to make me collapse in a heap on the floor. 

Annnnndd collapse in a heap on the floor I did. 

Theres nothing quite like waking up to four doctors and the emergency alarms going off. Never a dull moment eh. 

When my results did come back, my levels had dropped a lot, but not quite enough to go back on medication. I was basically hanging on by a thread. But a thread was all I needed to keep positive. 

Keep calm and carry on.

The next step was to go and get me bits and bobs checked and find out what the F was going on down there.

 

Endometrosis

Its fun being a girl isn’t it. Nothing quite humbles you more than having to deal with shitty news whilst wearing a divine polkadot gown and having your legs in stirrups. All whilst trying to simply breathe and not faint without ya knickers on. 

In September 2023, exactly a year ago, whilst a gigantic probe was shoved up me and I could barely breathe- I got told the words. 

‘It’s severe endometriosis and ademyosis. Oh and you have no progesterone in your body’.

So this explained the last nine months of hell. 

And- LOL- what a silly sausage- where I had convinced myself I was going through early ‘pregnancy’ symptoms- all this time it was in fact- just some new illnesses to add to the ever growing pile of doom. CUTE.

It also explained why every month I was in complete and utter AGONY from my periods to the point where sometimes I couldn’t even leave the house.

He was a male doctor, who seemed to know his shit, and whilst I was sobbing he looked at me with conviction and said- despite it all- you are ovulating in 2 days- go home and make a baby on Friday.

As easy as that eh?

Now apparently, APPARENTLY- my two new best friends Endometriosis and Adamyosis (welcome to the mad house huns) weren’t yet a major concern from a fertility point of view- and all was to be easy peasy lets make a baby squeezy. And in true specialist style he shrugged off my new conditions as a no biggie, whilst I walked out feeling like my world had ended. And don’t get me started on what Google said.

And then…..lol, I came on my period two weeks later. 

Months went by, 16 Housemates went in the new digs, I did 47847 journeys up and down the A406, put in what felt like 1000 tasks. And we were now in the deepest and darkest of winter. 

Through the stress of the last few appointments and finding out I had yet another yucky condition to deal with we booked Disney Paris over the Christmas period after BB as a way to distract us from the craziness at home. And an escape before my next big check up. 

It was the best three days of my life.

And then I came home to a complete shit storm.

Christmas 2023.

It was only meant to be a quick routine check.

But there was something in the air that day. I can’t even put my finger on it- but the atmosphere in the waiting room was totally off. I could sense it. And it was making me on EDGE.

By the time I had my legs in the stirrups again I was feeling a pit of doom in my tummy.

The Specialist who had previously hit me with the triple threat of bad news (Endometriosis, Adamyosis and no progesterone) with an air of positivity was in a bad, short mood. He had completely forgotten who I was and my story- despite sitting on the very same chair 8 weeks before sobbing my guts out to him.

During the horrendous checks whilst trying not to faint-  I was hit with the news that-

 ‘Your fallopian tubes might be blocked- which would explain why you are not falling pregnant’.

“Oh. Right”. I stuttered-whilst trying to come to terms with this next tidal wave of an announcement.

“And what does it mean if they are blocked?”

“It means you won’t ever be able to fall pregnant again naturally”.

Silence.

“Ermmmm….. can I get them unblocked?” I exclaimed, through broken sobs…

“No…

If they are blocked. You can’t unblock them”.

“I see… and how do I check this?”

“Through a procedure where they insert a large needle into your fallopian tubes- pour in dye- and if it the dye comes out- your tubes are okay. If the dye doesn’t come out- they are blocked”.

I couldn’t speak. Or breathe.

Right there on that chair- I convinced myself there and then that my pregnancy journey was over. 

My tubes had to be blocked. It would explain everything.

The doctor then went on to explain that for most people with blocked fallopian tubes- their only option was to go through IVF.

And because it would be really rude to not finish the appointment off without one more final surprise- he then went on to tell me I would also need to get my Endometrosis dealt with- via a OPERATION where they would scrape and blast out the tissue in my stomach.

At this point- the room was starting to spin- I just wanted to get out.

Exactly 12 months before- I was given positive news from my Thyroid doctor to go and make a baby. 

A year on- I was in the depths of hell.

Alexa can we skip to the good part??? PLEASE?? 

Remember- a small needle at a blood test sets me off- it is my biggest phobia- so to be hit with the news that I might not be able to have children naturally- unless I had a terrifying procedure done AWAKE- where the news might be terrible and life shattering for me- was a crazy amount to process.

 I truly didn’t know if I had the strength to go through it. 

It was keeping me up at night for hours on end trying to imagine how I would be at the moment where the needle was to go in me and I would feel breathless at the thought. It is the most scared I have ever been. 

On top of this- IVF would be no easy solution for me- the thought of having daily injections and all the other horrific mental and physical things that come with going through it was a truly terrifying thought. 

The truth is- I just don’t think I am brave enough to go through with it. And I pull my hat off 20 million times over to anyone that has done. I am in awe of you.

I sobbed my way home down the M25- deep, spluttering sobs where I could not breathe. My hubby- who was also grieving the news- held my hand as we both just cried in silence- whilst Christmas songs blasted off the radio. It was my birthday and Christmas Day a few days later.

I felt heart broken. Empty.

I also felt SO BEYOND ANGRY. So angry at the doctor for the way he gave me the news and shrugged me off – my life was shattered- but to him I was just another number.

I was so so so angry at my body. WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME? WHY CANT I JUST BE LIKE EVERYONE ELSE AROUND ME WHO IS POPPING BABIES EVERY WHERE I TURN. WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME??????

I felt so guilty. So guilty to Wayney, and SO guilty to Teddy. I was depriving them of a baby and a brother/sister. But they couldn’t have been more incredible to me. Well Teds didn’t have a clue what was going on- but he is just forever cute. And Wayne couldn’t have been more of a rock if he tried. Still is. Daily.

He told me to just take my time to process the news we have been dealt with. He would be there for me day and night no matter what I decided to do. If I didn’t want the procedure that was completely fine. If I did, he would be there by my side. But there wasn’t an ounce of pressure or guilt that ever came from him. He was forever happy for it to just be the three of us forever and if I turned around and told him that I couldn’t go through with any more pain or procedures and I was done- I know he would never hold it against me. And for that I will forever be grateful to him.

But. 

A few days later after another night of no sleep, I got out of bed,  put my brave hat on and without telling anyone I booked an appointment at the hospital for early January. New year- new me. 

I was going to get the procedure done and get some answers once and for all. No matter the outcome I knew I had to do it.

I just knew in my heart that if I didn’t, I would have forever been asking myself- were they blocked?? For the rest of my life. I knew I had no option but to be brave.

And until then I had to make Christmas as magical as possible for Mr Teddy Bear who deserves the world- and try and constantly wash away the nagging thought that was in my head every 5 seconds. 

Eating a Yorkshire pud- are my tubes blocked? 

Opening pressies- are my tubes blocked? 

10-9-8-7-6-5-4-3-2-1 Happy New Year- please please please don’t let them be blocked.

THE HYCOSY.

After spending January going in and out of a (new) hospital having consultations and more internal checks- because no way was I ever going back to that man again – it was finally the day of my Hycosy.

It had consumed my every thought since December.

Because there is such a specific time frame you can get this procedure done I was very on edge the last few weeks of January- my cycle is all over the place so I can never predict when I am coming on. Finally at the end of January I was on my period and booked it for seven days later- Saturday 4th February. 

It was a morning appointment- in Harley Street and Wayney promised me a lunch of my choice out anywhere I wanted after the procedure. I was already dreaming of my spaghetti bolognese and garlic bread from Harrys Bar.

I haven’t been sure how much to write on here about my Hycosy. I have learnt- that actually- it is unfortunately quite a common procedure for girls struggling with Infertility to go through- and I don’t want to sit here and write about how awful it was incase this will put off someone about to go through it. But I am also very aware that I have a teeny platform where it is important to always be honest and pass my knowledge on to you all.

For anyone googling ‘What is a Hycosy’ you will find most websites telling you to expect mild-moderate pain in the stomach- a bit like a period cramping and to take some nurofen before it.

Now- I need to be fully transparent with you all- because I do always feel like honesty is the best policy and knowledge is power. Those websites are talking f***** s****.

The Hycosy was absolutely hell. Once the needle/cathatar had been inserted inside me and the dye was ready to be poured in- I truly felt pain that honestly took my breath away. It was pain that went from zero to a million and can only be described as one of the worst labour contraction pains I have ever experienced. And it was a complete shock to my system. The pain lasted for two full minutes- whilst the procedure was being done- and I was sobbing my heart out. To the point where I was screaming out ‘please make It stop’. It was honestly a horrendous few minutes and I was absolutely traumatised for a few months after and now have phantom memories where I could feel the pain again in my tummy. (Is this a thing or am I just a freak???)

The funny thing is for the two months before all I could think of was how the hell are they going to get that needle/cathatar inside me down there??- but that was honesty okay- they did it nice and slow and I was breathing in and out to take the pain away. But the dye, oh the dye- that was one of the worst surprises I have ever witnessed.

Now of course- I would do it all over again to be able to get the news I got- that my tubes were clear. I can’t even begin to tell you how grateful and blessed I felt- and still do. I can hand on my heart say that I one million percent believed that they were blocked.

I walked out of the hospital in total shock. Shock at the incredible news I had just received. But also complete and utter shock at how traumatic that procedure was. I couldn’t go out for the boujee spag bol I was promised because I was in too much pain- and just wanted to get home- cry my eyes out from the shock of it all- and see my baby boy.

AFTER THE HYCOSY.

Lots of people including the doctor told me that having a Hycosy clears out your system and makes you very fertile for a while. So naturally I felt like I was being given a life line- a fresh new start-I was a bad boss bitch who had just had my insides blasted from the inside out WHILST AWAKE and I was ready to take on the mother f**** world.

I was told to contact the hospital in the summer if I was still not pregnant- because then I would most likely need to look into having a Laparoscopy operation for my Endometrosis.

Buttttt it was only February- the summer was months away- I had MONTHS before I needed to worry about any more yucky appointments and next steps. I was FREEEEEEE. 

(Erm hun- remember that lil Thyroid problem you’ve had the last three years- its coming back to pay you a visit)

OH FFS.

CURTAIN DROP.  DRAMATIC MUSIC. CUE THE INTERVAL. 

SPRING 2024.

But wait wait waitttttttt. Why don’t you grab a cuppa tea??

Before we chat about my devil Thyroid- lets start this second act by quickly updating you all on some cute life bits and bobs.

Well- over the last eight years we lived in a cosy, cute and cramped flat. For four of those years it was my show home- my pride and joy- glistening cream carpets, white walls, Fireside White Company candles everywhere you turned. 

And then Teddy Bear arrived. And the rest was history. 

Since 2020 we desperately tried to move house. But apparentlyyyyy being self employed during covid, and not having a garden didn’t mix very well. Morgatges were refusing to help me left right and centre (work in TV they said….), nobody wanted to move into a flat after lockdown, and EVERY MAN AND THEIR WIFE were trying to do us over. It was an extremely, stressful and demoralising experience and we got seriously screwed over multiple times. 

The worst part was that I just felt so responsible. Even though I haven’t actually been out of work since having Teddy, because I can’t actually prove what job I am doing months down the line (sometimes I don’t know what contract I’m on next week let alone in six months time) the banks were totally refusing to play ball. 

But just as we began to give up ALL hope on babies and a House- the New Year brought us some fresh luck and a much needed life line. 

This April we moved into our beautiful dream home. It is a new build in the countryside. A total empty shell. I want to spend the next few years saving up and decorating it room by room.

It still doesn’t feel real and I pinch myself most days that my baby boy now gets to run up and down A GARDEN after four years of looking outside a window. The gratefulness I feel will never ever leave me.

However- naturally a new house brought fresh new triggering comments. 

“Please god this new house will bring a new baby’. 

“Oh wouldn’t this be the perfect place to bring up a baby’. 

“An empty room- is this for your future baby wink wink?”

It also brought fresh new emotions and pain.

Packing up Teddy’s beautiful baby bits- boxes and boxes of clothes- each with their own perfect memory, his high chair, buggy, car seat, nemo jumperoo, moses basket, cot all coming down from the loft one at a time. Each item slowly bringing a lump to my throat. Do I sell them? Will they ever be used again?

And of COURSE I haven’t sold them- they are too precious to me- and the ridiculous fool in me still has hope that one day the empty room in my new house with the piles and piles of boxes inside it and the door firmly SHUT TIGHTLY- migghhhhhtttt- oh it just might become a nursery one day.

The IVF Consultation.

Ohhhhh we’ve made it to the IVF chapter. Deep breaths.

I KNOWWWWWW. I’m as shook as you.

Never did I ever think for a second that I would ever be typing those words out but life has a funny way of surprising you and keeping your your toes.

Do you remember when I told you that the cute little Hycosy procedure was supposed to make me really ‘fertile’. LOL.

Well- huge shocker- it didn’t.

We are now in May 2024. And maybe there was something in the spring air- or maybe it was just the fact that I was actually sitting in my own Garden- that I had a sudden wave of F**** THIS come over me. 

I WAS SICK TO DEATH of waiting every month with hope bubbling in my tummy to see a blank screen on a pregnancy test. 

SICK TO DEATH of opening Instagram every hour and seeing another pregnancy announcement. 

SICK TO DEATH of wasting hundreds and hundreds of pounds on ovulation sticks and pregnancy tests and procedures and appointments. 

SICK TO DEATH of feeling so out of control and helpless and consumed by pain. 

I had HAD ENOUGH. I CANT LIVE MY LIFE LIKE THIS ANYMORE. 

It was time to take action. So being the boss bitch I am- I called the hospital to get advice on IVF clinics to book in a consultation. 

Guys. Like literally. For me to make that call was genuinely such a huge bold step. I cant even put it into words. I guess I was finally starting to accept my reality and process that this really might be the only way to have a baby to complete our family.

The Doctor was incredible- she listened to my story with care and understanding and gave me some solid advice.  

If I was to go down this utterly terrifying road the first thing I would need to do is get my body ready. And most importantly my Thyroid needed to be at a good level- otherwise I would be refused treatment.

OH. 

Shit.

MY THYROID!!!!!!!!!!

Hiiiii hun- I nearly forgot about you for a moment you sneaky lil thing. 

Hi ho hi ho its back to hospital we go…..

Thyroid checks- early May 2024.

Right. Slight curveball here. My results were a bit of a shocker.

Not enough to have relapsed. But JUST-jussssst tipping the edge of being an unacceptable level. 

If I was to decline anymore I had a serious risk of becoming severely ill again.

BUT LETS NOT PANIC. (I was major panicking). 

“Dubai is weeks away and I’m going to sunbathe and eat all of my cares away. The moving process was STRESSFUL- let me just chilllllllll for a bit and I’m sure my levels will rise- were alllllllllll good. Im fineeeee. I’M FINEEEEEEE”- I told my family in a high pitched fog horn shrill as they looked at me with THAT FACE. 

Ya know the one I mean? Where everyone knows that what you’re saying is a load of shit and actually major alarm bells were going off.

So my mum and hubs sent me straight to hospital to speak to a consultant. Where I PLEADED with him through snotty tears not to put me back on medication. Technically I was still 0.1 away from relapsing-so I was just about okay??? 

Right??? RIGHT????

You see the second I was be put back on strong medication it could be weeks months YEARS before I was allowed to try for a baby again. I needed that one last month of trying and hope. 

Dubai was my magical place. I was desperately clutching at straws. PLEASE. I’M BEGGING YOU.

My hubby desperately looked the consultant in the eye and said “Please, sir- if this was your daughter- what would you do?????”

He stared at us for what felt like a lifetime and slowly said- I would tell her to come back and see me in 6 weeks. Have a wonderful holiday.

And breathe. Our final lifeline- lets do this.

Thyroid checks- June 2024.

The holiday went by in a blur of happiness. Whilst my thyroid and the impending tests were always on my mind I had the most magical time of my life. The three musketeers living it up in Dubes.

But deep down, I knew something wasn’t right and I was terrified. Clumps of hair were falling out of my head as I was getting myself ready in the evenings. But I buried it all away into the ‘i’ll deal with this when I’m home’ box.

The day after we landed I felt so tired that I couldn’t lift my head off the pillow. 

Here we go again. 

But no rest for the wicked- it was straight to the studio I go.

I had a week long intense studio shoot- filming the other side of London- and quite frankly, I don’t know how I managed to get myself through it. Every bone in my body was aching, I could feel my heart banging out of my chest even when I was sitting down, I was becoming scarily skinny despite stuffing my face with studio snacks and it took every ounce of my soul to not fall asleep in a heap on the studio mid shoot. 

After another round of Thyroid tests, and another week of having purple bruises as a new accessory in my arm I received THE CALL in the studio carpark.

I was no longer in remission. 

In fact my thyroid had relapsed so bad I was as bad as when I was first diagnosed back in May 2021.

It had gone from zero to one hundred in the space of a few weeks.

I was too tired and ill to argue my way out of medication this time. Every fight in me had left my body. 

Instead I was just a shell of the girl I was six weeks ago. 

The hospital were very concerned and said it was imperative and urgent I came back to be checked. Unfortunately my poor heart rate was beating 120 beats a minute even when I was just sitting on a chair. It was scarily dangerous. I was instructed to immediately go back on beta blockers and back on a high dose of Thyroid Medication.

And wave goodbye to trying for a baby. (The medication is severely dangerous for unborn babies- so you can’t get pregnant whilst taking them). 

But trying for a baby didn’t matter. I was so ill. 

My family were losing their mind with worry. Again. 

I HAD TO GET BETTER FOR TEDDY BEAR.

This was photo of me mid June, a week before I fell really ill. We had a perfect family day out but a simple stroll over Tower Bridge left me so breathless I had to sit on a wall for 30 minutes to calm my heart down with my four year old helping me to walk. WHAT THE F???

But the good news was that I was signed off work and put on bed rest for three weeks to recover.

Stunning. 

AHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHA. 

JUST JOKING. 

SILLY BILLIES. AS IF.

Because-  do you know what I actually did five days after sitting in that emergency hospital appointment?

I FLEW TO LA. 

I REPEAT. I FLEW TO LA.

LA.

LA LA LAND.

12 HOURS AWAY FROM HOME. 

Oh YES I hear you cry. THAT INCREDIBLE ONCE IN A LIFE TIME WORK TRIP YOU WENT ON?? 

BUT wait??? HOW THE F??????

Well. The truth is- I absolutely should not of got on that plane. 

Days before the shoot I had to anxiously await to be signed off by the hospital- who did- after a lot of pleading finally sign me off because I was now highly medicated. 

However I was under strict instruction to basically not lift a finger or do anything physical when I was out there. (Clearly these huns haven’t spent 20 seconds working in TV cos LOL hi 18 hour studio shifts).

I don’t quite know how I did it to be honest. It was absolutely very ridiculous and silly of me to fly half way across the world when I was severly ill and had an extremely high pressured job to attend to out there. 

But guys- I was SO ANGRY at the world- so angry at my situation-and as you know I was.. lets repeat…SICK TO DEATH of it ruining everything.

So unless the hospital were physically restraining me down onto a hospital bed and not letting me leave their compound there wasn’t a chance in hell I was going to give up on four days working at Universal Studios in Hollywood. 

This was my way of saying to my Thyroid …

YOU WONT DEFEAT ME. NO MATTER HOW HARD YOU HAVE TRIED TOO THESE LAST THREE YEARS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

You can try to ruin my chance of extending my family. 

You can try to ruin my exciting job opportunities. 

You can try to make me feel physically horrendous at every opportunity possible- but my god was I going put up a good fight. 

(Oh and lets not lie- there is also a huge fear when you are a freelancer that if you pull out of a contract you will never get work again. The imposter fear in the TV Industry is pretty horrific right now-and I did feel immense pressure that a company had spent thousands of pounds on flights and hotels and put their trust in me to do a good job for them- so for me to say a few days before “sorry I cant come” might not have gone down so well. So instead, I channeled every ounce of my non existent energy into getting through that contract and doing a good job).

I still remember posting a picture on Insta at the airport sharing how nervous I was for my first ever work trip abroad- and remember thinking- wow if only people knew the truth-  everyone must think I’m such a boujee queen living my bestest life- but it couldn’t have been further from that. 

I was only a week in to being highly medicated- still not feeling well AT ALL and I was such a nervous, anxious little wreck on that plane who deep down just wanted to be recovering at home in my pyjamas. I spent the majority of the plane journey working out the new timings for my medicine with the time difference. Beyond tragic. So that’s just my little reminder to you all to never judge a picture on Instagram because you never ever ever know what’s going on behind closed doors. 

And behind my door- was a shit show.

Summer 2024.

Since my time in LA LA land I have spent my summer dosed up to the nines on meds and recovering from the shitstorm of the near- Toxic Thyroid Storm. 

Well- I say recovering- work has never been busier and I seem to have been on 50 billion different studios shoots each week working for some insanely exciting companies. I never know what’s round the corner with my next contract -but it keeps me on my toes daily and stops me from dwelling about my illness. 

I’m doing good- my life is happy and full of love and fun and silliness. 

Teddy bear gets more hilarious by the day- we are fully in the swing of school life and I have been pouring all my energy into make this such a special time for him.

Don’t laugh- but i’ve become a reformer pilates hun- I know, I know- but I’m trying to look after my body whilst not straining my heart and I absolutely love it.

I guess I’m just doing everything I can to keep calm and plod along until my next hospital appointment and stop this from consuming my every thought.

Weirdly since being back on medication I am honestly in a much better head space. Maybe because the pressure is off?

I can’t try for a baby, so there is no loss and longing and bitter disappointment each month. 

Instead i’m just embracing all the happiness that life and Teddy are bringing me. 

The irony is- my life feels so fast paced that I don’t quite know how to keep up. Yet at the same time I feel like I am completely and utterly on pause. 

When will I be off medication? (Who knows). Am I ever going to fall pregnant? (we need a miracle people). What is my next job? (I don’t know what I am doing in two weeks let alone two months). And what the bloody hell am I making Teddy for dinner tonight?? (Not more pasta and cheese????)

Lots and lots of life ‘stuff’ has happened since I relapsed. 

Lets start with main event- the most important of them all- I am officially an auntie again to my beautiful nephew Alfie chops.

The funny thing is I don’t think any one in my family ever imagined  my sister having a boy- so I like to tell myself that someone up there is looking over us- and gifted us all Alfie so Teddy would have a brother for life. He is such a blessing.

But it has honestly been totally heart wrenching not going through pregnancy with my sister. 

Having Teddy and Millie so closely together was such a gift and it will never fail to amaze me how lucky we were.

Truthfully, the day Alfie was born I think my body might have gone into shock. 

I was hit with a love that was so intense and powerful- but also a sadness I could not shake. 

Now I know that feeling was intense grief. 

It was not a grief of what I had lost. But instead a grief of what I have been wishing for- for all these last few years.  The hoping and praying of ever being pregnant and going through that journey with my sister again was over. 

I don’t even know if what i’m writing makes sense. But that feeling passed as quickly as it came.

I know i’m going to have days where I feel like I’ve been run over by a bus and where things will trigger me and send me spiralling. But then I can go weeks and weeks without feeling one ounce of sadness. I guess it’s all part of the journey I am on.

In-fact last week I spent the morning sobbing after dropping Teds off at school and doing a coffee date with a group of my mummy friends who were with their (2nd/3rd) babies. Which is utterly ridiculous of me because I am the opposite of a jealous person. 

Three hours later I was still crying- before having a sudden light bulb realisation moment.

Although the tears were initially brought on because of my longing for a baby and feeling frustrated and so out of control of my body. (And because I was a day away from coming on). The ACTUAL reason I felt SO sad was because I felt empty. 

Empty without Teddy. He is my safe space. 

I could happily be around 50 baby’s and not feel upset, as long as I have my side kick by my side. 

Because when I have him, I have everything. 

But as I sat there alone, I felt like a piece of me was missing. 

I don’t actually think I have properly cried since i got re diagnosed and relapsed because i’ve been holding it together and trying to show how strong I am. But last week the leaky tap burst.

I have also found that no matter how hard I try to forget about my situation- life and society- without meaning too- has a funny way of constantly reminding me. 

Take Teddy’s Sports Day as an example. A joyful and care free afternoon in the sunshine- until the sibling race was announced. Teddy sitting innocently and beautifully on the grass watching.

But I am frozen by a deep sinking feeling in the pit of my tummy. 

“What is going on in his sweet little innocent mind?” 

Because all that’s going through mine is- have I let you down? 

Will there ever be a day that I don’t feel horrendous about not being able to provide my sweetheart with any brothers or sisters when he would truly make the worlds greatest? 

Sometimes I truly think I want it more for Teddy than for me.

This is also why we spontaneously booked our out of this world cruise back in August just a few weeks before it set sail. Because i’ve come to realise that life is scarily short and that living with this disease means I can’t predict one month from the other. 

I truly have no idea when my next relapse will be- what treatment I will need or what horrible test I’m going to endure next. 

Speaking of which- as a way to cope through all the hell we’ve been through I made the hubs promise me back during the Hycosy in Feb that if there’s still no baby by early 2025 we are going to book Florida hehehehe. So if you see vids of me devouring Mickey Waffles and taking Teds on the Tower of Terror next year- you will know the drill.

So instead of feeling sorry for myself all of this summer- I went the other way. I thought do you know what will really really really help me recover and feel better??? A week in the sunshine making memories with my rocks.

But we all know that the summer doesn’t last forever- and as cosy season slowly approaches I have a lot of scary decisions, tests and life choices ahead…..

What is next? September 2024.

So here we are- a few weeks away from going through all the tests again that will deliver my fate for the winter ahead. But as we all know by now. I haven’t got a bloody clue what is on the cards for me.

In June, the hospital were confident that by Autumn I might be able to come off medication- so I and praying with my whole heart and soul that my results will be positive.

But the biggest question is… then what?

There are a lot of tests and decisions that lay ahead once my Thyroid decides to actually behave.

Option one- REMISSION- If I ever get to be in remission again will my Thyroid levels ever be sufficient for my body to fall pregnant and be able to hold a baby without miscarrying? Do we keep calm and carry on trying naturally? Two years in- I do believe that ship has most likely sailed and we will truly need all the intervention and help we can get. 

The thing is, if I ever was lucky enough to miraculously fall- I will be SO high risk that I know i’ll be living my life on complete and utter edge. I will need a shit ton of drugs and hormones to hold a baby-and will most likely need constant hospital checks. Whilst I can’t predict the future, I am doing everything I can to make my life as simple as possible for the foreseeable incase it gets to that point. But this too has come at a huge cost. I’m turning down incredible work contracts and some huge important social events that aren’t local- all because I am waiting. Waiting for a miracle.

Option two- FERTILITY TESTS- Further hellish fertility tests at the hospital- to check my ovaries, womb etc. I’m ready to step back in the polka dot gown and face the music. I also have a strong feeling I might need to go on hormone medication before trying again. But what I really want- is. ANSWERS. The majority of the time through this journey I have felt like a total number. I’m on my third/forth set of doctors now who all specialise in their own field. But I am so beyond desperate for someone to just fit all the fertility, thyroid and endometriosis puzzle pieces together and tell me what the HELL is going on.

Option three – ENDOMETRIOSIS- We investigate my Endometriosis/Ademoysis further. Will I ever pluck up the courage to book a Laparoscopy operation to blast it all away? The pain I’m in each month is beyond unbearable and I am big time struggling- I also know it can majority affect fertility. But going under the knife is my biggest phobia. 

Option four-my last resort- IVF-  Will I ever be brave enough to go through with it? My hubs and I go back and forth daily. I think I am going to meet the consultation in the next few weeks and take one slow teeny step at a time. This time last year it was a never. Now I am clutching onto straws to get help. I just don’t know if I am actually brave enough to go through with it. Or how I would cope if it didn’t work. It’s a ridiculous amount to think about.

I have mentally prepared myself that I have a winter ahead where I will be going through the motions and exploring option 2, 3 and 4- because what doesn’t kill me makes me stronger- and we all know- at the very least its going to make a funny chapter in my next installment. 

But the truth is- I’ve done a lot of deep thinking and reflecting since my relapse- and in a twisted way I think getting ill again was the true wake up call I needed to see what I had in front of me this entire time.

And in front of me was a sweet kind curly haired little teddy bear who takes my breath away.

A Teddy bear who wakes me up every morning with 50 million kisses telling me I have a golden heart, and that I am his beautiful, caring mummy who he wants to marry. 

A teddy bear who lights up every room and makes me ache from belly laughing from the second my eyes open.

A Teddy Bear who looked me in the eyes last night and said “Mummy I chose you and you chose me. And we love each other SO much”.

I adore the ground that boy walks on and I will forever pour my heart and soul into making him the happiest bear because he deserves the world.

Why have I wasted all these months longing and praying for more when I already have everything I could possibly need????

I have fully accepted that if we are to just be the three musketeers for the rest of my life then I have hit the jackpot.

Me and my boys. Together we can take on the world. 

I ended my last thyroid blog with lots of hope. But sadly it’s not just about hope any more. 

There have been times in the last three years where it has felt like I have received bad news after bad news. 

It has been never ending and the light at the tunnel has felt faint.

But since then I have realised that I already have my light. 

And that light is not at the end of the tunnel. 

That light is magical and sparkling.

That light is Teddy Bear. 

And he is my reason.

I am still- and will always be- praying for a miracle. For my Teddy.

But that’s what so special about miracles- because they come when you least expect it.

Thank you all for reading my story. It means so much to me I can’t even begin to express.

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