After surviving my partner’s death, numerous failed IVF rounds, and then flying his sperm and my eggs all over Europe, it was no surprise that when I did finally get pregnant with Lola, I was in so much shock that I stared at the wall, unable to talk for three days. Lola was conceived at a clinic in Alicante, Spain. Flying home with Lola as an embryo inside me, I wondered if in 10 days I would get a positive pregnancy test. In my seat and holding my stomach as we took off, I said to her: "Just cling on darling, we are going to make it.''
After the procedure, I wasn't allowed to pick up anything heavy to help the embryo stick to my womb lining. The problem was I had a massive holdall bag with me, bursting with medication from the clinic, as well as all my clothes. Although I had been told to stay calm and slow down to let the embryo take, I ended up running around Alicante airport in a state of total panic trying to buy a suitcase with wheels. Then as I saw that my plane was boarding, I had to abandon my plan and leg it to the gate.
