'I had my eggs frozen at 22 - then I fell pregnant naturally'

Sitting in a doctor’s surgery aged 18 - four days before I was embarking on a 'once in a lifetime' trip with my boyfriend - and hearing the words 'possible infertility' ringing in my ears is, to put it simply, a moment I’ll never forget.

It started six months earlier when I noticed my stomach was constantly bloated. I was very self-conscious as I was a size 8 everywhere else, but size 12 trousers wouldn’t fasten anymore.

I’d just started university in Liverpool, in the U.K., and was living away from home for the first time. To be honest I put the weight gain down to my new-found student lifestyle, which largely consisted of booze and carbs.

I did take a trip to my local GP back home, however they dismissed my concerns and advised me that I was retaining water and 'carried weight around my abdomen'.

The final straw came when I was out with my university friends and a drunk guy asked me if I had "a baby in there" as he pointed at my stomach. I was mortified. I actually started to think that maybe I could be pregnant, despite not missing a period.

I booked an emergency appointment with a GP in Liverpool the next morning, first thing. As I walked into the waiting room, I honestly thought it would be a quick consultation and that he would run some tests. I couldn’t have been more wrong.

As I entered the doctor’s room, the first thing he asked me was if I was pregnant. I told him that I was there for my stomach and didn’t believe that I could be, but that I had noticed a significant change. Cue the doctor quickly getting out his ultrasound equipment to detect a foetal heartbeat.

I rang my mum in the taxi on the way over and she came to meet me there straight away. My partner was working on site, so arranged to come after that. I was ushered through straight away to have the scan done. They wouldn’t let me see the screen, as they wanted me to speak to the gynaecologist specialist directly.

The wait was agonising, but my mum assured me that all would be OK, whatever the outcome. I was in my first year of university, due to head on the trip of a lifetime in three days and scared to death.

As I entered the room I couldn’t read the doctor’s face. He told me to sit down and that he had some news for me. When I heard him say the words, "You’re not pregnant" I was elated!

I didn’t understand. He went on to tell me that I had a very large Dermoid cyst attached to my right ovary that was 30 centimetres in length (the size of a seven-month foetus). He also explained that I had another smaller cyst on my left ovary that was at least 10 centimetres long.

I was told that I was at a very high risk of the cyst 'torting' and causing the blood supply to my ovary to cease, which could be fatal, especially if I was in the air on a long-haul flight.

I was crestfallen and couldn’t understand what he was telling me, I was adamant - as naive, stubborn 18-year-olds can be - that I would still be flying no matter what he said.

My (then) partner went on the trip anyway and left me at home. At the time, I insisted that he go as it made no sense for us to both not go. So, I spent my birthday, his birthday, Christmas and New Year in the U.K. waiting for my operation to take place on July 5, the day after I was due to land back.

I remember waking up from the anaesthetic after the surgery and the doctor telling me that it had gone well, but I’d lost my right ovary and fallopian tube. They managed to save my left. He assured me, however, that I would still be 100 per cent fertile with one ovary as the body can recover.

The recovery took four months and I had a vertical scar from my belly button to my pubic bone. By some miracle, I managed to pass my first year of university, despite missing half of the year.

I remember telling my partner to leave me if the operation didn’t go well, as he was 23 and I didn’t want to ruin his chances of having kids as well.

I had the operation, and again as I groggily came around from the aesthetic, my doctor told me they did have to take half of my ovary, but there was still half left. In short, this meant that the chance of having kids naturally was drastically reduced and if I were to get another cyst, it would probably become impossible.

This resulted in my partner and I being approved for IVF to have our embryos frozen. Only, he got cold feet and left me the week prior to the treatment start date, which ended up being the biggest blessing of my life (although it didn’t feel like it at the time).

To my shock, I was given the green light, becoming the youngest person in the U.K. to have their eggs frozen on the NHS who wasn’t a cancer patient. I was thrilled.

The hormone treatment to have the eggs frozen took two weeks and consisted of daily injections. I was really lucky and managed to harvest eight viable eggs from half an ovary, which was a great result. The only sticking point was at that time, each egg had only a two per cent chance of statistically working, should I need to use them.

Fast-forward two years (after another operation to have a four-centimetre cyst removed from my ovary, this time via keyhole, which was a success) and I booked a one-way flight to Australia with my friend in 2009 and never looked back.

By 2015, I’d met the love of my life. Three months after meeting, I fell pregnant - completely naturally, might I add.

Now, I have a two-year-old boy called Albie and live in Balgowlah with my partner, Stephen. The doctors can’t believe that I fell pregnant, especially as it was naturally.

I guess if I can give just one person hope who is in a similar situation that I was when I was 18, then it’s worth sharing my story.