A miracle, and everything it took

And then the impossible became possible

When I went home, the first thing I did was go straight back to Dr Lyuda. We took blood tests, and we could see that my white blood cells were starting to elevate again. My body was starting to react, and we were concerned that my immune system was going to interfere with the pregnancy. But we were determined, as a team, that we weren't going to let that happen. Dr Lyuda did everything in her power to support me and the pregnancy. I had a couple of rounds of Intralipid therapy and, two weeks later, we saw that positive pregnancy test.

I couldn't believe it.

It didn't feel real.

When I went up to Lyuda, I remember giving her the biggest hug. I remember having the blood test and thinking, Oh my God, this can't be real. She said she would phone me that afternoon with the results, and that phone call is one I will never forget.

“Ellen, you are very, very pregnant.”

My hCG level was 1,097.

I remember thinking, Twins?

Then, on the 23rd of December, we had our scan. We both looked at the screen and shouted:

“How many are in there?”

It was triplets.

Three.

We continued to monitor my bloods and white blood cells, and Lyuda stayed with me until almost 12 weeks. Then came the question I wasn't emotionally ready for: “Who is going to take over?”

I wasn't ready to leave Lyuda. She had been there through everything, and I will never be able to thank her enough for what that woman did for me. I wanted the best care possible for my pregnancy, and that led me to the Rotunda and Professor Malone. He was incredible and kept a very close eye on me throughout the pregnancy.

Then, at 22 weeks, things started to go wrong.

I developed severe preeclampsia and was admitted to hospital for bed rest and monitoring. Professor Malone told me, “Ellen, I don't know what's going to happen, but we have to take it day by day ,it’s bedrest for you until they arrive ‘

And that's what happened at 22 weeks Rotunda would now become my home for the next few months not weeks!

I didn't know if my three little babies were going to survive. Every day was crucial. Every hour was crucial. I was scanned every day and monitored every two to four hours. I remember being told that if we could get to 24 weeks, we would have a chance.

So we got to 24 weeks.

Then 25.

Then 26.

Then 27.

Then 28.

And finally, we made it to 29 weeks.

I remember Professor Malone coming to me and saying, “Ellen, we are going to deliver on Thursday.” Caelan was the smallest of our three boys. He had intermittent blood flow through the placenta, and if we didn't deliver, we didn't know whether he would survive.

Thursday, the 8th of June, was my 40th birthday. And it was the day my three babies were going to be born.

The doctors, nurses and staff lined the corridors and started clapping and cheering me on. I had spent seven weeks in hospital, mostly in bed, and the support I received from everyone was incredible. The midwives became friends they made my days so much brighter .

I went into theatre surrounded by what felt like an army of people probably around 30 and they were singing Happy Birthday to me.

It was incredibly emotional.

And then, finally, our boys were here.

Fionn Kevin and little Caelan, weighing just 880 grams. All three were rushed straight to the NICU.

I barely remember going down to see them that first day. I was so overwhelmed. And by the next day, something had completely shifted.

It wasn't about me anymore.

It was about keeping these three tiny babies alive.

Nobody can really prepare you for the NICU unless you've lived it. The machines buzzing. The alarms. The constant monitoring. Consultants coming in and giving you information that you barely have the capacity to take in. One minute you're trying to understand what they're telling you, and the next you're being told something else. There were mornings when we would just grasp onto each other and hold each other so tightly, praying that they would survive.

We started breaking the days down into pieces.

Okay, that was an okay morning.

Then we'd face the afternoon.

Sometimes it was good. Sometimes it wasn't. But they kept pulling through. They fought everything that was thrown at them. They were incredibly resilient, and watching those three tiny boys fight for their lives changed me forever.

We spent 76 days in the NICU.

Seventy six days of fear, hope, tears, setbacks, tiny victories and learning to celebrate things that most people would never even think twice about. And then, finally, they graduated from the NICU. I was so proud of them.

So, so proud of how they fought. How they kept going. How they stayed with us. Those three tiny boys we'd fought so hard for were finally coming home.

Our three little miracles.

After everything we'd been through the diagnosis, the failed IVF cycles, the treatments, the fear, the hospital and those 76 days in the NICU we finally had the family we'd fought so hard to build.

And looking back now, I realise that everything I'd been through had changed the person I was.

I know what it's like to sit across from someone who doesn't really understand.

I know what it's like to hear, “Just relax. It'll happen.”

I know what it's like when people think they understand what you're going through, but they haven't lived it. They haven't injected themselves every day. They haven't sat waiting for the phone call. They haven't experienced the failed transfers, the tests, the bloods, the medications, the fear, the hope and the disappointment.

I have.

I've lived it.

And that's why I will never sit across from another woman or couple and tell them to simply relax or stop thinking about it.

I know how it feels. I know how exhausting it is to keep going when you're terrified to hope again. I know how much you can carry while everyone around you thinks you're okay. And I know how important it is to have the right people around you people who listen, people who understand, people who know what they're looking at, and people who will stand beside you when it all feels too much.

I can't promise anyone a baby. But I can promise you this: You will never have to explain to me what this feels like.

Because I've been there. Our story had taken us somewhere we never could have imagined.

And this is where my story with fertility ended.

But my story with acupuncture, fertility support and helping other women is just beginning.