IVF Drama For An Older Dad

IVF Plays With Your Mind - And Your Heart. It’s more than like flipping a coin. The outcome can be anyone’s guess and 50/50 at the best.

What you are about to read is text copied over from notes on my iPhone. It’s revealing but I think worth sharing with you as an older father and dad. Why?

I went through all of this 30-years ago with my first child. It seemed easy then. IVF is anything but easy. The drama you’ll read is absolutely over shadowed by the wonderful place we are at right now… We are 9-weeks today!

Here we go.


It’s 10:00am and we are back at the hospital for a routine check after a small bleed

Just 3-days who.

The scan is 3D and despite it being just 6.6 weeks the detail is amazing.

She sees the first embryo and I can see the heart beat. She puts on the speakers and it is so loud and perfect. I cry but hold back.

She looks for a moment and can find no second embryo which was there just 3 days before. It’s gone, this was the show of blood.

It feels

Desperate in my heart and despite the early stages I want to cry.

We speak to the consultant and everything is confirmed. We now have on but one that is thriving. We all seemed resigned but I still need to cry.

6.6 weeks today we lost a twin whilst the other thrives.

To say I was disappointed is an understatement. Disappointed for my wife but selfishly for myself.

the process plays with your emotions and mind at a very deep level. I feel numb but happy the second is strong.

They call it a vanishing twin but it makes me heart vanish in the moment. Ripped out and torn. This is an invisible moment for a man as the man is always third party during this whole process. Not on purpose it’s just the way it is.

IVF is an incredible breakthrough but never guaranteed. They place two embryos inside in the hope that one will survive.

Either way it feels like a blow but I need to focus on the reality that we are still beating the odds.

Once on the street I cry I just can’t help it. My minds eye had played over time and again myself with two new babies.

We are back home now and carrying on as usual.  My wife is outside putting washed clothes on the line. I’m on on the other side of the yard doing some Diy.

Around 6 hours have passed since the hospital visit.

What happened next we never expected. I hear a shout from my wife to come quickly. She look panic stricken. Her pants are filled and soaked with fresh blood. I don’t know what to do apart from remain calm. My wife is as calm and accepting as ever.

Is this the second baby vanishing before our eyes?

How can such a strong heartbeat just hour earlier now fall silent? Nothing makes sense and we go through endless panic driven questioning. I feel utterly helpless and desperate. My wife lies her back on the sofa whilst I make her comfortable as possible.

We can’t get hold of any medical experts including our consultant. Finally after a lot of blood things start to slow and the blood begins to show as brown rather than bright red.

After at least ten messages to the consultant we manage to get her assistant. She gives us her protocol which means get another huge injection of hormones into my wife’s hip. I hate doing this. She accepts it.

What a tense evening. I feel tired. My wife looks fresh as ever but I can tell she’s tired.

Eventually we go to bed exhausted and with questions.

Where did the first twin vanish to? Has the second baby also now gone? What will tomorrow bring?

At 2:30am the consultant finally replies.

Don’t worry, This is fine, it is normal but you must rest for a couple of days.

It doesn’t feel fine for me but my wife looks fine and says she feels she is still pregnant. Right now I cannot rely on feelings I and we need to see a fact. It’s Saturday and we’ve been asked to wait until Monday.

I feel a little frozen. Let’s See.

It’s 5.07pm the day after yesterday. Our baby is fine, alive and growing and I’m still tearful. To see the embryo and sac on the screen.

Week 8 day 5

We are booked in for a check up after yesterday’s big bleed. Ian the those things t changes the whole atmosphere in a moment and lasts until 

Week 8 day 4 another bleed and another panic.

Tamuna sent me a text.

‘Baby I’m bleeding’

We are in Tbilisi and she is on the other side of the city.

I’m panicking. I’ve been writing my old dads blog and the happiness of having a new child. 

Am I tempting fate?

It feels that way.

I run down the street until I can grab a taxi. My Georgian is useable to ask for the street I need to go to.

He understands and I finally arrive where I find Tamuna lying with her feet up on an old chair.

The blood has been flowing but slowed. I help her to the Toilet. A clot spears then vanishes down the Toilet.

There’s now cramps, no pain no anything. That’s a good sign.

Tamuna as always is highly positive. Now we have to wait for the Outcome.

Good or bad we have to accept It.

Yet... I’m optimistic as always. This child will arrive.

I’m the older Dad 

This IVF plays with my mind. I feel so emotionally tied in. Just 8 weeks and 4 days in. I think it’ll be fine but I feel like Crying.

Let’s see.