A Journey of Rebirth: Secondarily Infertility as a cancer survivor

My hope is that in reading this, someone might feel less alone, more informed, or simply seen.

TW: Mention of infertility, cancer diagnosis and medical treatments.

Fertility can be such a tender, private experience, but for many of us, that privacy becomes silence. And in that silence, we can feel isolated, ashamed, or unsure of where to turn. I believe in sharing stories like this one to help normalise the complexity of fertility journeys - especially the parts that aren’t easy. 

My hope is that in reading this, someone might feel less alone, more informed, or simply seen. *If* I am able to bring another child into the world, it will feel like the most powerful embodiment of the healing and transformation I’ve walked through over the last seven years. And if I don’t, I’ll still honour this journey as sacred - un unfolding of my true self. Either way, I believe that truth-telling can be its own kind of medicine - and I hope this one finds whoever needs it.

**Note- I talk about my cancer journey quite matter-of-fact in this piece. It was obviously very traumatic, but I didn’t want to go into too much depth with that as my focus here is on the fertility aspect.**

Becoming a Mother

My journey into motherhood started in late 2016 when we found out I was pregnant with Leo. We conceived quickly. We hadn’t even started tracking or planning. It just happened whilst on holiday in Australia. He arrived in my body easily, as a tiny embryo that looked like a jelly bean with a heartbeat.

But the birth? That was something else. A 34-hour labour that left me physically and emotionally shattered. Healing was long and complex. The first few months of motherhood were heavy. Beautiful, but hard. I wasn’t in a rush to do it all again.

The first signs

In 2018, I began seeing a specialist. I was still in pain which doctors had told me was related to healing after a traumatic episiotomy / forceps birth- even going to the loo hurt. After an exam, I was handed a haemorrhoid cream and told it would help. It didn’t. But I moved on. Or tried to, dealing with ongoing pain and soreness. We are taught to trust the man in the white lab coat… more on that later.

By early 2020, just before the world began going into lockdowns, we started trying for a second baby. This time was different. I felt the weight of timing, of age, of uncertainty. I also deeply wanted a daughter - so we followed gender-swaying protocols, carefully tracking ovulation windows and aiming for the ‘right’ days.

Months passed. Then it was over a year.

By mid 2021, I began testing - bloodwork, scans, internal checks. I felt a dull ache in my womb area and knew something was off. The results were mostly reassuring - mild endometriosis, a small benign cyst. But still, I felt it. A quiet ‘no’ from my body. I was struggling to have any sort of decent level of energy - always feeling a bit fatigued especially in the first few months of 2022.

Listening to my intuition to get a diagnosis

And then - a moment of intuitive disruption. I saw someone I follow online share her bowel cancer diagnosis. As I listened, I felt chills. Some of her symptoms mirrored mine - bleeding when going to the loo, fatigue, abdominal discomfort. I ordered an at-home FIT test (known informally as ‘the poo test’). Not because I thought I had cancer - just to rule things out. Thanks to the amazing Dame Deborah James, I already had some awareness of the symptoms and seeing this on Instagram was the final piece that led to me stepping away from the doctors and taking things into my own hands.

The test came back abnormal.

That one test changed everything- it was the first domino falling.

Within weeks, I’d referred myself to a specialist and booked a colonoscopy. The official diagnosis followed on 28th July 2022 - bowel cancer, stage 3. In an instant, the fertility journey paused. My focus narrowed to survival.

On 9 August 2022, I had bowel resection surgery. A foot of colon removed. Five nights in hospital. Six weeks of healing. And then, another bold step - fertility preservation.

Despite everything, I still hoped. I began daily hormone injections - in my abdomen which was still healing from surgery. The process is designed to stimulate the ovaries to produce multiple eggs in one cycle. It was intense. The hormones, the scans, the waiting. When the time was right, late September 2022, the eggs were retrieved and combined with my husband’s contribution. We created two embryos - both 5 days old when frozen. It was all done in a bit of a blur. I was very much feeling like a patient… going from appointment to appointment.

Being ‘patient’…

Interesting fact - the word ‘patient’ means:

“Bearing pains or trials calmly or without complaint”

- it was interesting that my real healing journey began because I was no longer willing to suffer ‘without complaint’…

Whilst I appreciate that the doctor I’d seen in 2018 felt that my chances of anything worse than haemorrhoids was low, had he referred me for further tests, perhaps things could have been caught much earlier without the need for chemo… given I’d been asking about the same issue for over a year. So this is my reminder to you… TRUST YOURSELF! If you feel something isn’t right, pursue all the tests and checks you can within reason to rule out cancer. It is treatable when it’s caught early enough. I took his word for it and continued being a ‘good patient’ suffering without complaint for 5 more YEARS! That makes me really angry when I think about it now…

I started chemo in October 2022 - four cycles that could potentially impact fertility. But after treatment ended, my periods did return within 6 weeks. They were on time and regular. Feeling my monthly cycle again was like coming home to myself after months of feeling a strange pause. Still, I don’t know if the chemo did affect the quality of my remaining eggs. I was about to turn 40. Time mattered.

You can see how bloated and strange the chemo made me appear from this small screenshot -the one on the left was November 2022, the one on the right was July 2023

Trying again

If there is going to be any recurrence with cancer, it’s most likely in the first 2 years post treatment, so we agreed we’d wait two years before trying again. In late 2024, my scans and bloods came back all clear to my relief after living scan to scan. We decided to get the 2 embryos genetically tested, confident that at least one would be viable.

But just before Christmas 2024, we found out that neither embryo would survive transfer. They were genetically abnormal - incapable of becoming a baby. Had they been transferred, I’d have gone through the whole procedure for nothing.

It was a quiet, shattering grief. One of the most strangest phone calls I’ve ever taken - actually I was in the middle of folding laundry when I answered. Afterwards I didn’t quite know what to do with myself. I waited until my husband Nick came home to tell him- I thought it would be even stranger to receive that kind of news in an office environment.

We had a choice then - to start again with IVF, or not. But after everything - surgery, chemo, egg retrieval - my body (and Nick) said no. A full-body no. So we listened & we chose to take a natural approach.

In January this year, I did more hormone testing via blood tests at a specialist fertility clinic - checking FSH, LH, AMH, & estradiol. One test between days 2-5 and one test on day 21. The results showed I was still ovulating, though my ovarian reserve was understandably low for my age. Not impossible. Just a different landscape to when we’d conceived my son when I was 33.

Some of my hormone test results confirming I was still ovulating

Cycle tracking on another level

As part of the approach, I knew I needed to be very aware of how my cycle was running. I have recorded my cycle using an app since 2012. Originally because I had an abnormal smear result in 2012 which gave me the prompt to take much more interest in my cycles rather than just knocking back a contraceptive pill every evening. It was the beginning of my journey to reclaiming my natural cyclical non-linear self.

So, earlier this year, I started tracking cycles even more seriously - using digital monitors, apps, strips. Most were a bit vague- not giving true clarity on if and when I was ovulating. But the Mira device changed everything. It tracks hormone levels daily through urine tests - offering a clear picture of surges and timing.

The first cycle looked fairly typical. Ovulation confirmed around day 12. But the second was erratic - hormone peaks and dips, a failed ovulation attempt followed by a delayed LH surge on day 16. It all made sense in terms of what I’d been feeling - a sense of pause, unsettled energy. My body trying. Resetting. Trying again.

It was validating to see it in the data - to know I wasn’t imagining it.

I am likely in perimenopause. Or maybe my cycles always varied, and I just never knew. Either way, I’m learning. Tracking. Listening. Honouring.

Our intention now is to continue trying naturally for the next year or so - with openness, with trust. No more IVF. No more forcing. (I have no problem with IVF, just doesn’t feel right for me right now).

The next steps - leaning into trust

I’m deeply grateful for Leo. I’m already a mother. But there’s still this quiet longing - a sense that our family isn’t quite complete. A yearning I can’t deny. I’ve felt a sense of another soul wanting to come through - sensed that she is waiting for the right portal to arrive. Maybe it has nothing to do with my health journey- maybe it’s just not her time to arrive yet.

I am leaning deeply into trust. My intuition led me to an earlier diagnosis and the possibility of healing which I am always going to be so grateful for. So I know I can trust it.

When others become parents

Sometimes, watching others welcome babies easily, it aches. It really aches.

But mostly - I feel admiration. Love. Respect. I know how sacred (and challenging!) their motherhood and fatherhood paths will be too.

Something awakened in me when I became a mother - a creative fire, a deeper calling. And while I hope to birth another child, I also know that creation can take many forms.

Maybe I’ll birth another life.

Maybe I’ll birth a book. A body of work. A new version of myself.

Whatever comes - I trust it’s the right path.

Because this is not an ending.

It’s a sacred becoming.

With my son Leo when he was about 9 months old - such a cutie

My Cyclical Approach

Hopefully this personal share gives some context on why I take a cyclical approach to life as a whole - why I embrace a non-linear approach, and why I am so passionate advocating for women’s health. I would love to hear your thoughts and experiences if you are willing to share (comments or DMs!)