Words: Meryl Laisney, Photography: Sophie Darwin.
Somewhere in the mists of childhood, most of us remember that first awkward conversation where mysteries were unravelled, and we took our first tottering step into a grown-up world. Where do babies come from? Flown in by stork? Baked into being by love, like a bun in the oven? We learn about the birds and the bees, the simple, wondrous mechanics of how we came to be, and perhaps imagine that one day, we’ll make our own miracle.
For many, that miracle arrives easily. But for others, the path to parenthood is far more tangled. Beyond the birds and the bees lies an untold story – one full of brambles along the way. A story that deserves daylight and open air, so we can better understand the challenges some face, and help each other navigate them with compassion.
To mark Fertility Awareness Week (3-7 November), Jersey charity Tiny Seeds launched The Birds and the Bees, a campaign that explores the real, emotional journeys behind fertility. Through a series of short films created with care and candour, the campaign gave a voice to islanders who have faced a complex path in the hope of becoming parents. Some stories end in joy, some in heartbreak – all reveal the courage and humanity that too often go unseen.
These are the birds and bees for adults – conversations that strip away the silence and stigma surrounding fertility, and replace it with empathy, humanity and honesty. In this issue, we continue that conversation through a series of portraits and profiles celebrating the many paths to parenthood.
Fertility in Focus:
The Facts Behind the Feelings 1 in 6 adults worldwide — around 17.5% of the population — experience infertility.
In Jersey, over 420 people visit the Assisted Reproduction Unit each year, with roughly 100 IVF cycles facilitated annually.
Only a small proportion currently qualify for publicly funded IVF due to strict eligibility criteria.
Infertility is recognised by the World Health Organisation as a disease that can have serious mental health impacts, including anxiety, depression and isolation.
Since 2021, Tiny Seeds has become Jersey’s voice for fertility – providing counselling, grants, awareness initiatives and a community of understanding for those navigating the brambles along the way.
@tinyseedsjersey / birdsbees.tinyseeds.je
Meryl Laisney
I first came across Tiny Seeds about four years ago when I was trying for my second baby and experiencing recurrent loss. I was advised on-island to put the first three losses down to bad luck – and my age. But when I went on to experience a fourth and fifth loss, I was completely broken. Some were missed miscarriages later in the first trimester, even after detecting a heartbeat, and frustratingly, local tests kept coming back normal.
I remember thinking, I can’t do this anymore. One of Tiny Seeds’ founding members, Lucy Stephenson, along with my husband, encouraged me to attend one of the support groups. I joined a “Yoga in the Park” session at Howard Davis Park and afterwards sat with a small group of women who were also facing fertility challenges. The only way I can describe that moment is like having a huge hug wrapped around me.
There were two big takeaways – I wasn’t alone and most importantly, my feelings of challenging, wanting to seek a second and third opinion off-island were entirely valid. I am incredibly grateful that I went on to have my healthy baby girl, Florence.
What have been some of the biggest challenges you’ve faced—whether emotional, physical, social, or financial?
There are so many emotions that come with secondary infertility – when you already have a child. It can be a very lonely and isolating experience. I found the lack of understanding and information around unexplained secondary infertility and recurrent loss particularly frustrating.
I dived deep into research, reading medical journals, and joining online recurrent loss support groups where so many women were desperately seeking answers. By chance, a friend I’d met at a party in Manchester years before reconnected with me through one of these groups. We discovered we had similar experiences, and she shared the contact details of Professor Siobhan Quenby, one of the world’s leading recurrent loss specialists.
We both went on to participate in Tommy’s clinical trial with Professor Quenby. I’d read that she’d helped a woman who’d lost 13 babies, and I thought, if anyone can help me, it’s her. I jumped on a last-minute flight, drove from Heathrow to Birmingham, and checked into a hotel off the motorway late on a Sunday night, just praying it would all be worth it. It tore me apart to leave my son at home as I chased a dream to grow our family. My husband and I had already agreed this would be our last attempt. Miscarriage is both physically and emotionally exhausting, and I didn’t want my son to see me so broken.
When I met Professor Quenby, she said, “I really hope this is what you have – otherwise, you may need to accept that you might not have another baby.” I tested positive for endometritis (not to be confused with endometriosis) and with treatment – anti-malarial medication and steroids for slightly elevated Natural Killer cells – I had my miracle daughter. Incredibly, my friend and I both went on to have our babies within days of each other. We’ll never know whether it was science, but I can’t help feeling it was more than coincidence.
What’s one thing you wish people wouldn’t say to someone experiencing fertility struggles?
There are quite a few! Most were said with the best intentions by people I love, but they can still sting. Things like, “At least you know you can get pregnant,” “Are you sure it isn’t your job causing stress?”, “Just relax!”, or – worse when people didn’t know, “When are you going to give your child a sibling?” None of these are helpful. What people don’t realise is that comments like these, however well-meaning, can make you feel even more isolated or misunderstood. It’s better to say, “I’m sorry, I’m here for you.”
If you could offer one piece of advice to someone just beginning their fertility journey, what would it be?
Don’t be afraid to reach out for support and seek advice from charities like Tiny Seeds. I’m just one of 500 people who benefit from their help each year in Jersey. The World Health Organisation estimates that infertility affects around one in six people globally. You’re not alone in this journey.
What would you like others to understand about the impact of fertility challenges?
Pregnancy after loss isn’t straightforward – even when everything is going well, it’s hard to believe you’ll actually hold a healthy baby in your arms at the end. The emotional toll doesn’t just disappear. The support I found through Tiny Seeds was invaluable. Meeting others who understood and validated my feelings was a huge comfort.
Christina Gates
I am a 45-year-old “solo mum by choice” to a beautiful 18-month-old girl called Hope Danielle. Hope was conceived via IVF using donor sperm. I chose this route as I desperately wanted a child but suddenly found myself single at 40. I didn’t want to force a relationship for the sake of having a child and decided to try to become a solo parent. My IVF journey spanned three years and included a failed transfer and two missed miscarriages.
What have been some of the biggest challenges you’ve faced—whether emotional, physical, social, or financial?
The biggest challenge for me was emotional. The process dominates your life during each cycle of treatment and there is an anxious wait to get to each milestone. Will my scans go well enough to proceed with treatment? Will enough eggs be collected? Will the eggs fertilise? Will the embryos be viable? Will the embryo transfer be successful (the dreaded “two week wait”)? Will I miscarry again? I would often get to one stage, it would fail, and I would have to start again. My heart broke each time, especially when I had made it quite far down the line.
IVF is also a logistical nightmare, which causes such strain on day to day life! Fortunately I had flexibility and the support of amazing colleagues at work. My social life suffered. It was difficult to make firm plans whilst accommodating scans, injections and last-minute dashes to Bristol for treatment. I was very private about my fertility journey while it was happening, and some friendships suffered due to my perceived absence, last minute cancellations and lack of participation in social events.
What’s one thing you wish people wouldn’t say to someone experiencing fertility struggles?
Any sentence starting with “At least…” was hard for me to hear (for example “at least we know you can get pregnant” as I was going through a miscarriage). It was always said with love by someone with the best of intentions, however, I was feeling too much grief in the moment to try to look on the bright side. Also, any form of unsolicited advice if the person giving it is not a medical professional or has not been through a fertility struggle themself.
If you could offer one piece of advice to someone just beginning their fertility journey, what would it be?
It really helped to talk through my feelings with my closest friends and family. With the benefit of hindsight, I wish I had opened up more to those around me while I navigated my journey. I met other single ladies at different stages of their fertility journeys through Tiny Seeds, and attended regular catch ups with them – I found it helpful to chat to those who had been or were going through the process themselves. Their stories inspired me and gave me hope.
Being childless not by choice is heartbreaking. Every day you walk in the real world, you are faced with examples of what you so desperately want. It can be difficult seeing the pregnancy announcements, attending the baby showers and seeing the back-to-school photos on social media. I was so happy for those who already had their beautiful children, and simultaneously so sad for myself, particularly at times when I had suffered a loss or treatment had failed. When you undertake fertility treatment, there is no guarantee of success and the whole process can be incredibly overwhelming. I am blessed to have my longed-for baby, I appreciate every day with her, and my heart goes out to all those still in the fertility trenches.
Claudine Snape
My fertility journey began unexpectedly when I was 37 and single in London. I decided to proactively freeze my eggs, only to be told after testing that this wasn’t an option for me. The diagnosis was diminished ovarian reserve and a scan could only find one antral follicle, which meant that a procedure to retrieve eggs for freezing would not be viable. Hearing the recommendation to use an egg donor was a devastating and completely unexpected blow.
A few years later, having returned to my home in Jersey during the pandemic, a pivotal conversation with my mum changed everything. She asked if I had ever considered using donors and assured me of her and my dad’s unconditional support if I chose that path. That heartfelt encouragement was the catalyst I needed to move forward.
I threw myself into research, ultimately choosing a clinic in Alicante, Spain, for its excellent success rates. Using both an egg and a sperm donor, I had a fresh embryo transfer, and to my immense relief, the first transfer was successful. My son was born in December 2022, and has totally changed my life.
Finding a community of other mums through a group like Tiny Seeds has been important, creating powerful friendships with women who truly understand this challenging path to parenthood.
What have been some of the biggest challenges you’ve faced—whether emotional, physical, social, or financial?
One of the biggest challenges was navigating this journey while in the second year of a demanding role as CEO for a local charity. While my boss was incredibly supportive, managing the intense hormonal fluctuations from treatment alongside high-stakes work pressures required immense focus and emotional regulation. There were days it felt like I was running two marathons at once. Emotionally, the primary challenge was grieving the loss of a genetic connection to my child and the future I had always imagined. It was a profound process of letting go.
Financially, the cost is a significant hurdle. It’s a huge investment with no guarantee of success, which adds another layer of stress to an already overwhelming process. Socially, it can be isolating when it feels like everyone around you is starting their families conventionally. It takes a lot of resilience to navigate baby showers and birth announcements while facing your own uncertainty.
What’s one thing you wish people wouldn’t say to someone experiencing fertility struggles?
“Just relax and it will happen.” While almost always well-intentioned, it completely dismisses the medical realities of infertility. It subtly implies that the struggle is a result of stress rather than a genuine physiological issue, which can feel incredibly invalidating. You can’t “relax” your way into having viable eggs or overcoming a diagnosed condition. A much better approach is to simply say, “I’m sorry you’re going through this. I’m here for you if you ever want to talk.”
If you could offer one piece of advice to someone just beginning their fertility journey, what would it be?
Do your own research, ask countless questions, and don’t be afraid to seek a second opinion if something doesn’t feel right. Surround yourself with support. Whether it’s a formal group, an online forum, or a few trusted friends who truly “get it”. You don’t have to go through this alone, and connecting with others on a similar path can be an absolute lifeline.
What would you like others to understand about the impact of fertility challenges?
I’d like people to understand that fertility challenges are not a single event but a prolonged period of crisis and grief. It’s an invisible struggle that affects your identity, your relationships, and your mental health in ways that aren’t always apparent on the surface. It’s a journey that forces you to confront difficult decisions and fundamentally changes you, long after the journey itself is over.
Derrick Bracken
I’m 54 years old, and have four daughters. Two of them came through fertility treatment. The journey was a mixture of emotions and, to be fair, I am still on the journey.
What have been some of the biggest challenges you’ve faced—whether emotional, physical, social, or financial?
For me, it has been the emotional and physical challenge.
The physical is to see what your partner goes through, from the start to the end of each cycle. They are doing everything possible to give the treatment the best chance of success. That’s what you tell yourself, but does it help? Is it worth the anxiety/stress? Well to people on a fertility journey, it is.
The emotional side is the ups and downs of the journey – upset, heartache, the failed cycles and just seeing your partner destroyed by the news received but there is also the joy when successful.
One failed cycle, I remember when we were in the Natural History Museum in London, having a coffee, and I was walking back from the till. I saw my wife on the phone and then the tears started to come. We were in London for the next part of the process but our embryos hadn’t thawed – I knew this from just looking at my wife. No words needed or could be said at that time but this leads to another part of the journey for me – I was also devastated but found it hard to show/share my emotions as at this time it was my wife who needed looking after but I also needed looking after. From my part, this is sometimes the lonely part of a fertility journey for the male. I had no one to speak to and felt I couldn’t burden my wife with my emotions as she was going through the same thing
What’s one thing you wish people wouldn’t say to someone experiencing fertility struggles?
“I’m sure it will work! You could get a dog. if unsuccessful!” These sound silly, but are said.
If you could offer one piece of advice to someone just beginning their fertility journey, what would it be?
I think nine times out of 10 if people are starting the fertility journey they have made decisions already. My advice would be not to be afraid to move away from the plan, and don’t be scared to ask questions, join forums and go out to Tiny Seeds, as these are the things that help you on your journey.
What would you like others to understand about the impact of fertility challenges?
These challenges consume people, and it costs nothing to listen, think before you speak and be there for people, if you know they are on this journey.
It’s not “just a medical issue.” Fertility challenges often come with waves of grief, uncertainty, and loss that can feel invisible to others. People may be mourning not just the inability to conceive, but the loss of a vision of life they had imagined.
Julia-Anne Dix
Like many people we started trying for a baby quite soon after we got married. I wasn’t in a rush to get pregnant but after nothing was happening for some time, I sought out advice from my GP and started the long process of investigations eventually being diagnosed with “unexplained infertility”.
This diagnosis means exactly what its name says: it is “unexplained” so there is no medical explanation for why I couldn’t get pregnant. In the UK, unexplained infertility accounts for around one in four cases of infertility. I found this really difficult to process as I wasn’t able to pinpoint what was going wrong and therefore found it hard to work out what I could do to solve the issue.
There are some medical interventions that can take place on island this includes women having assistance with ovulation by taking medication and being monitored by scans. This was the start of the multiple appointments at the Assisted Reproduction Unit (ARU) which often are scheduled in work time (although they try to be as flexible as they can depending on availability). Over a period of a year we tried this and at one point we did have some hope which sadly ended in a loss.
We started the IVF journey via Bristol which had its own complications as it was during COVID. My first cycle was actually cancelled as I hadn’t responded sufficiently to the hormones (which involved daily injections over a period of weeks). I cannot explain properly in words how that first cycle being cancelled felt, it felt like we had already failed before we had even got started. Over the next year we undertook two egg collections and three transfers (often referred to as three rounds of IVF). I focused outside of the IVF treatment on making sure I was doing anything I could to help make it work such as taking the right vitamins, yoga, meditation, acupuncture and chiropractic treatment. We were very fortunate that my third transfer of my final frozen embryo was when our daughter was conceived. We feel incredibly lucky with how our journey ended.
What have been some of the biggest challenges you’ve faced—whether emotional, physical, social, or financial?
The biggest challenge for me was the emotional toll. Anyone that knows me would agree that I always like to be in control and this was the one thing I had no control over which I found very difficult. After every failed round I felt like I had failed, however I still had to get on with my day-to- day life and not show outwardly how I felt inside. The journey is an emotional rollercoaster for both parties involved and it can unfortunately take many years with no confirmed end date or indeed guaranteed success.
What’s one thing you wish people wouldn’t say to someone experiencing fertility struggles?
“Be patient or just relax, it will happen.” The reality is no-one actually knows that for certain. The science of IVF is amazing and thankfully it gives so many parents the opportunity to become parents. However, that is not always the case and people need to be mindful of that.
If you could offer one piece of advice to someone just beginning their fertility journey, what would it be?
Seek out advice from others also on the same journey. I reached out to Tiny Seeds following their initial JEP campaign and attended meetings and met some wonderful like-minded people who were going through a similar journey. I also did lots of research online or and listened to podcasts. There is also a huge online community known as trying to conceive #TTC on social media which offers a wealth of knowledge and support.
What would you like others to understand about the impact of fertility challenges?
If based in Jersey and undergoing IVF, we face so many additional challenges due to our geographic location and not being able to undertake IVF on island. This not only increases the financial burden but also requires people to fly off island at the last minute which can be difficult to juggle with jobs and also dealing with flight cancellations and delays due to weather. All of these additional challenges add to an already incredibly stressful process adding to the emotional toll.
Serena Kittya Fan & Benn Sheldrake
With our first child, we luckily, had no issues falling pregnant. So when we decided to grow our family again, it was quite upsetting to see a negative test every month, despite meticulously tracking my cycle.
Despite being able to conceive “easily” we unfortunately experienced three miscarriages in 2024, but with the guidance and support from the Women’s Health Hub, we found the underlying cause and were able to take steps to mitigate the risk of it happening again. My partner and I reached out to Tiny Seeds to learn how to support each other better and connect with other couples on their IVF journeys. We had planned to start IVF later this year, but life had other plans – as we are expecting our second in 2026.
What have been some of the biggest challenges you’ve faced—whether emotional, physical, social, or financial?
The greatest challenge I’ve faced in this journey was feeling isolated and alone. For a long time, I didn’t give myself permission to speak openly about our miscarriages, not even with my partner, and that silence caused our relationship to break down. Through therapy, learning to work together again, and even finding comfort in small things like playing rugby, we’ve slowly rebuilt ourselves as a team. It hasn’t been easy, but it’s shown us how strong we can be when we face things together.
What’s one thing you wish people wouldn’t say to someone experiencing fertility struggles?
“It’ll be your turn soon” while positive, it can feel painful because we don’t know if or when that moment will come. Sometimes just listening, and being there can mean more than reassuring words.
If you could offer one piece of advice to someone just beginning their fertility journey, what would it be?
Never forget you’re a team, especially when you’re knee deep in the trenches of TTC… It can easily become a chore, so talk to each other, be there for the highs and lows and find time for fun. This journey’s a marathon not a sprint, and you’re both in it together.
What would you like others to understand about the impact of fertility challenges?
Fertility challenges can be incredibly heavy, even when they’re not visible to others. They impact your emotions, your relationship, and your sense of self. For us, the hardest part wasn’t just the miscarriages, but how isolating it felt when we didn’t know how to talk about them. I’d love others to understand that everyone’s journey looks different and there’s no right or wrong way to cope. Sometimes, the most powerful thing you can offer someone going through it is kindness, patience, and space to share when they’re ready. Behind every fertility story is silent resilience, hope, and courage.
