– After years of turmoil, Sequoiah and partner, Luke finally received amazing news.
– Here, Seqoiah from Gawler, SA, tells the story in her own words.
As soon as I ended the call to the doctor, I phoned my partner, Luke.
‘Quick, it’s time!’ I said. Luke had his own business as a carpenter so he dropped his tools and raced home. Then we jumped into bed before he went back to work!
We didn’t think we’d have an issue conceiving, but I was 32 and, at 25, Luke wanted to be a young dad, so we were doing timed intercourse to speed things along. It gave us a three-hour window for the best possible chance of falling pregnant.
Although it doesn’t sound that romantic, Luke and I were like giggling teens at our mid-afternoon antics.
When nothing happened after a few months though, it stopped being funny. And a year on, I was beside myself. ‘I don’t understand why it’s not happening,’ I said.
The clinic recommended IVF so we had a series of tests. They showed my egg count was low and poor quality.
It’s all my fault, I thought. When the first round of IVF failed, I told Luke he should find someone his own age. ‘I’m not leaving you,’ he said, reassuring me. At around $15,000 a go, we spent all our savings on a second treatment, then a third.
Desperate to be parents, we re-mortgaged the house for a fourth round and Luke didn’t have a day off for eight months. Whenever I saw a mum in the street I’d coo at her bub, trying to soak up some of their joy.
After our eighth round ended in further heartache, we tried egg donation. But five days after the embryos were implanted, I began to bleed.
We had no money left, but I wasn’t prepared to give up.I owned a small stake in my family’s farm, so I phoned everyone I knew to try to sell it.
One day, a friend of the family called Lucy rang. ‘I’ll give you my eggs,’ she said. Beyond grateful, we re-mortgaged the house a second time and took out new credit cards to pay for the procedure.
Amazingly, 17 eggs were extracted from Lucy.‘You’re like the Easter bunny!’ I joked. When two embryos were implanted inside me, a tingling sensation swept over my whole body. It’s going to work, I thought.
Four days later, I was too excited to sleep, so I crept to the bathroom at 4am and took a pregnancy test.
Seeing the faintest line, I stood punching the air! Terrified of getting Luke’s hopes up, I didn’t tell him.
After that, I’d take a test at morning, lunch and night and hide them in a drawer. After 10 days, I lined them up.
‘I thought you’d been a bit quiet!’ Luke said, laughing and crying at the same time.
Then at six weeks, we were at home when blood suddenly gushed down my leg. ‘Why is this happening to us?’ I howled, knowing I was losing our baby. We rushed to hospital, where Luke’s parents, Paul and Tracey, met us.
Luke was so broken he couldn’t watch as I had an ultrasound. So his mum held my hand as a grainy image appeared on the screen. ‘I don’t know what’s happened but you’re still pregnant,’ the doctor said. ‘Your baby’s heart is beating beautifully.’
As Luke’s mum tore off down the corridor to get him, the doctor added, ‘You’re pregnant with twins.’
At that, I started screaming and crying again.
‘It’s my 10th round of IVF!’ I told him.I asked him not to tell the family, then in the car I held up two scan photos.
‘Babe, there’s two in there!’ I said to Luke.
After six years, nine broken hearts and more than $150,000, we were expecting non-identical twin boys.
I cherished every moment of being pregnant. ‘We’re so lucky to be your parents,’ I’d say to my belly.
We decided to get married as a surprise at our baby shower. But before it came around, I went into early labour at 33 weeks.
In September last year, the boys were born by emergency caesarean. Saxon came first, weighing 1.9kilos, followed by Silas at 2.2kilos. Whisked away before I could see them, I did hear two magical cries. The next day, Luke wheeled me to the NICU. Putting my hand into the cribs, I touched their tiny heads. I can’t believe you’re mine, I thought.
Two days later, we married. And five weeks after that, we took the boys home. Now they’re a year old. Silas is gentle and sweet, while Saxon is a little pocket rocket. The one thing they have in common is that they’re always smiling.
‘Your babies are so happy,’ people say. They’ll grow up knowing how they got here. I’ll tell them that Mummy’s eggs were scrambled so I had to borrow them from Aunty Lucy.
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