My name is Megumi Fieldsend, and I am living a life without the children I hoped for.
My infertility journey:
It started when I was in my career development stage in life in Japan.
- I know how hard it is being with colleagues who are a similar age to yourself, talking about their babies and families, and often working with colleagues who are expecting.
- I know how difficult it is to have time off to have fertility treatments, whether telling people truthfully or not.
I first tried to conceive naturally, but after two years of trying, my husband and I discussed ending this journey. It was not easy, but my mind was set to take the decision, and then soon after that, surprise, surprise, I got pregnant.
- I said to myself, “Yes, I won! I won the battle!”
I started to go to a hospital for routine checks feeling excited, and a significant moment was when I SAW our baby’s heartbeat on the monitor of the ultrasound pregnancy scan; and that changed my life with the prospect of motherhood.
- We both started to talk about things like, “Where shall we put a cot?”, or “Oh, we need to ask our sister(-in-law) if we can borrow the baby monitor they used when their baby was small”, and so on.
Our world had started to shift towards family life. Then, the day I was supposed to find out the due date, I couldn’t see our baby’s heartbeat. It had disappeared from the monitor. I miscarried in May 2008.
- I felt the entry door to the maternity ward in the hospital become further and further away.
- I started to avoid seeing people with babies, or sitting near them on trains.
- I started to feel very sensitive when watching TV programmes or films that included pregnant women, or scenes with newborn babies.
- I wanted to feel ‘normal’ in daily life surrounded by families, because it is natural and unavoidable.
- It was difficult to find support or meet people who would genuinely listen to me.
And then, while I was struggling to cope, my sister-in-law had twin baby boys.
- I felt great – indeed fantastic – because their birth date is the same as mine!
- But I developed a profound sense of loss
To get over this situation, I put myself into the hardest task I have ever done – I went to face the new twins. I believed it would help me, but in fact I was not ready yet and it did not go well.
After that, we decided to undergo IVF
- My misconception: Having IVF = getting pregnant
We underwent a number of fertility treatments, which were all unsuccessful. At the ‘supposed to be’ last treatment, the doctor told me that the treatment was nearly successful – it nearly hit the threshold to get pregnant.
- I thought, “OK, I will do it one more time”.
My husband and I discussed this again, agreeing that the next would be the last. I made my mind up and went through the process. On the day of the frozen embryo transfer, my name was called up for consultation as usual, and then I was told that the cells in the embryo did not develop well for implantation.
- I was devastated. I tried to show a ‘that’s life’ attitude but could not stop my tears running. Before I burst into tears, I left the room. Outside the consultation room, there were more than 20 people waiting with hope to have their baby. The walk past them was really hard, because my hope was gone, completely shattered.
After that, I found I could not go straight back home. I went to a cinema instead, and saw the Alice in Wonderland, and cried quietly in the dark.
Transforming the loss
My own devastating experiences, however, shone a new light into my life. I became
very curious about how other involuntarily childless people experience the absence of children in their lives, and the psychological impact that childlessness has on them. I wanted to try and find out what people were feeling (experiencing) and I made the decision to quit my job and get back into an academic environment. I applied to the University of Derby to study psychology and in 2013 gained a BSc. (Hons) degree. My dissertation was on childlessness and identity. It was a qualitative experiential study, where I found the need for qualitative research on involuntary childlessness. This provided me with a strong motivational force to go even further and deeper. My loss turned into a powerful journey of exploration.
While my husband was living and working in Tokyo, and straight after completing my BSc., I started a PhD at Birkbeck, University of London, researching the lived experience of involuntary childlessness in midlife. I completed this in 2019. During this time, I met so many wonderful people who supported me through my research, and to whom I cannot be thankful enough. I have published a couple of papers from my PhD, which I would be happy to share if anyone is interested.
The findings from my exploratory research have led me to engage deeply with the concept of ambiguous loss – a form of loss that lacks closure and finality.. In such situations, people need to face the challenges of finding ways of living with their loss. It is a complex, and often a slow process, unique to each person.
My curiosities have continued to grow in understanding human givens, and I have gone further on my journey by training as an existential coach. All my personal, academic and practical experiences come together, and I am now offering existential leadership, wellbeing, and grief care coaching for people going through the various challenges in life. Not all of which are happy or easy ones. So, my mission as a coach is to facilitate the process for people to find their own answers to life.
To conclude:
Everyone has their own fertility journey, and this is just a brief summary of mine. I would like to thank the Fertility Alliance for giving me this opportunity to reflect on my journey, and all of you for reading this.
I am here if you need to chat, discuss, or are interested in exploring your inner strength, helpful in navigating life.
Warmest regards,
Megumi
Website: www.megumifieldsend.com
ResearchGate: www.researchgate.net/profile/Megumi-Fieldsend