‘Exhausting, expensive and soul-destroying’: an NHS worker’s infertility journey

A fifth of employees who undergo fertility treatment do so thought they had quit their jobs because of the way they were treated. Alison Howie, an NHS physiotherapist, shares her experiences.

My journey to infertility was exhausting, expensive, and soul-destroying. I have had about 18 embryo transfers over the last ten years, using my frozen eggs, fresh donor eggs, and adopted embryos, as well as several pregnancy losses.

In my last job I worked in a maternity ward, so I found it quite difficult and annoying. Managers didn’t know what to do, how to deal with it. They just saw this emotional person. They used to have an IVF policy, but it was discontinued.

I finally left the job after three years because I couldn’t bear the emotional torture. When I asked if I could move to another department or role – within physiotherapy there are several disciplines for which I am qualified and experienced – managers did not want to consider it.

But when a colleague suffered a sudden death, they immediately moved to another area. Losing a pregnancy early and having constant failed embryo transfers is trauma and repetitive grief. Looking back, it was the hardest thing I ever had to go through.

There was an atmosphere among colleagues: “We can’t talk about things in front of you because that will only make you angry and make people feel uncomfortable.” It was terrible. It makes you feel like you don’t want to tell anyone, so you end up going to your appointment at 7 in the morning.

One time when I went to a mandatory training session, I had recently had my third miscarriage and the woman coordinating the miscarriage said, “If anyone needs to answer the phone, please step outside, I know we all have children here.” I let her know after the session that she had upset me, and every time after I saw her she would move away from me. It’s amazing how some people don’t respect how different everyone’s lives are. It destroys your self-confidence.

I have never been as stressed in my life as I was during my fertility treatment. I was worried: can I afford this, why isn’t this working? I have to take time off, but then I don’t get paid. For the past eight years, I have used most of my vacations from work for treatment.

My new job in outpatient physical therapy was understanding to a certain extent, but as treatment continued through repeated failures, there was an attitude of, “You can’t just keep trying.” But then someone might have three or four maternity leaves and you start to think, “Why can’t I continue with this, it’s really important?”

I came across a woman who took a course and did not call herself childless by choice. I thought, I really identify with that phrase. I put it as a tag in my email because people had entered LGBT and such, and I was scolded and told to delete it immediately. I think it comes from ignorance and not understanding how important it is to someone.

NHS Dumfries and Galloway, where Howie currently works, said it is operating the Once for Scotland Special Leave policy, which covers staff undergoing long-term health processes including fertility treatments. Managers are given guidance on approving requests for time off or flexible hours to attend clinical appointments, taking into account various aspects including the impact on service.