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“It makes you think you can’t get pregnant because you are not worthy.”

“I felt sick and weighted with sadness and grief.”

“You feel emotionally destroyed. I describe it as getting to the end of the cycle and stepping off the cliff.” 


There are hundreds, thousands, tens of thousands of comments like these ones from people battling infertility. You can feel the devastation, grief, and vulnerability. And I know this because I was one of them. Over six years, my husband and I had countless failed IVF cycles and three pregnancy losses. We did have our happy ending though. We were blessed with our beautiful son in 2019, born through international gestational surrogacy. 



According to the World Health Organisation, “Infertility is a disease. Between 48 million couples and 186 million individuals live with infertility globally”. And yet, it’s often a silent heartbreak. Silence is perhaps one of the reasons research has shown that women dealing with infertility suffer high depression and anxiety levels. In one particular study, it showed that infertile women experience psychological symptoms, such as depression and anxiety, at the same level as cancer and cardiac rehabilitation patients. 


Reflecting on my own experience, the findings don’t surprise me. One thing I always struggled with was that everything felt outside my control. And that fertility treatment only guaranteed ‘the chance’ of having a baby. I also often felt sadness, anger, jealously and guilt. But whenever we received positive news, I always had a rush of excitement and adrenalin. Excitement one week and dread the next - working through those contrasting emotions, for years, was mentally exhausting. 


Many of us know that infertility is painful and often it’s all consuming. So it’s little surprise that it can take a significant toll you on your mental health. During our infertility journey, here’s what helped me: 


Say no.

Baby showers, gender reveal parties, first birthdays…These events can be torture. For me, baby showers always meant one thing: being surrounded by excited squeals and endless reminders of the one thing I didn’t have and desperately wanted. The one thing I was fighting so hard for. With my very good friends, I often went. But outside of those close friends, I didn’t go. If you are not close to the person, I doubt they will miss you. They’ll have plenty of other people there to celebrate with them. And if you are close to them, as a good friend, they should understand. 


Farewell social media.

After our second pregnancy loss, I deactivated my Facebook account. I hadn’t joined Instagram yet. My Facebook news stream was dominated with pregnancy announcements and baby photos. I would spend too much time scrolling through social media, feeling dreadful. Restricting my social media was liberating. 


Advocate for yourself.

We’ve all heard it before, “You just need to relax.” It still amazes me that so people, with no medical expertise, continue to offer unsolicited advice. Comments like these are ridiculous and hurtful. It took me a while at first, but whenever someone would offer me “advice” I would point out the facts: Infertility is a reproductive disease, a medical condition that impacts millions worldwide. And if I was feeling extra bold: “I’m not sure how relaxed women in war torn countries are. These women fall pregnant every day” or “Relaxing is not a medical cure. Imagine telling someone who has cancer to ‘just relax’ and they would be cured. That would be hurtful and insulting. Infertility should be no different.”


Therapy.

I found therapy extremely helpful. My therapist used a mix of Cognitive Behaviour Therapy and hypnosis. Given the impact infertility can have on relationships, I also know of many people who have found couple’s therapy a lifesaver. 


Self-care.

Do some things just for you, things you love doing. If I ever I need a self-care kick, I go for a long walk, binge a reality TV show, read a good book, or have a massage.


It’s OK to not be OK.

I think it’s imperative to acknowledge that infertility is incredibly painful. You will feel so many emotions like anger, jealously, and guilt…and that’s ok. It’s human to feel this way. Be kind to yourself. 


Connect with others.

Infertility can be lonely, but it doesn’t have to be. There are many people experiencing infertility. Find those people, talk to them, and lean on them for support. The #ttc community on Instagram is a good start. There are also some amazing resources like IVF babble. And of course, there are events like Wish for a Baby Australia where you’ll get the opportunity to meet others who are going through the same journey as you.   

  • Writer: Kirsten McLennan
    Kirsten McLennan
  • Mar 2, 2025
  • 5 min read

Last year I had the pleasure of speaking at Wish for a Baby in Sydney. It was a fantastic event, and I loved meeting so many wonderful and inspiring people. A highlight for me was sharing my IVF and surrogacy journey. I remember looking out onto the audience and seeing a few people crying, while others nodded along as I spoke. So I knew my infertility story resonated with so many. 


My infertility journey is not a particularly unique one. As you read my story, I’m sure there will be parts you can relate to, parts you’ve experienced yourself. Over the years, many people have told me how overwhelming, all consuming, painful, and isolating infertility is. I remember those feelings as if it was yesterday. And the one thing that always helped me was to talk to others going through the same thing. 




If you’re thinking about attending Wish for a Baby Australia in May, you’ll hear from people like me who will share their personal fertility stories. You’ll also get the opportunity to hear from, and meet, specialists in all areas of fertility. There’s an incredible line up speakers this year and it’s amazing having so many fertility experts together under the one roof. 

I’ll be at the Melbourne event, at the IVFbabble booth. I hope you stop by and say hello. I’m happy to talk to you about my surrogacy and IVF experience. And if you can’t make it on the day, you can direct message me anytime through my Instagram @straight.up.infertility


What is my story?

I’m a proud IVF and surrogacy Mum and a strong advocate for infertility awareness. I’m also an IVFbabble ambassador, a global fertility online community and platform. And I’m the author of This is Infertility; the story of my six-year IVF and surrogacy journey and everything I learned along the way. 


Our infertility journey was a long one, which I’m sure many of you can relate to. It took us six years, several failed IVF cycles, three miscarriages and a selfless surrogate to bring our beautiful son Spencer into the world. 


Soon after my husband Ryan and I married, we decided to try for a family. Being in our early thirties, we thought it would be easy. But after about a year, we knew something wasn’t right. And so, we started IVF. It was a roller coaster of emotions. Some weeks I felt despair, anger, and guilt: Why can’t I do the one thing women are supposed to be able to do? Other weeks, I was optimistic and full of adrenalin. Working through those contrasting emotions, for years, was often exhausting. 


After several failed and cancelled IVF cycles and a miscarriage, we changed to an implantation specialist who diagnosed me with having a thin endometrium lining. As the wallpaper of the uterus, the lining is crucial to becoming pregnant and sustaining a pregnancy. At our appointment, he told us: Thin linings are rare, usually genetic, and difficult to fix. He then told us surrogacy was our best chance of having a baby. But not ready to close the door on being pregnant myself, we pushed ahead with a transfer on a thin lining and became pregnant. The high was enormous. 


Sadly, at our first scan at 7.5 weeks, we had the devastating news our baby’s heartbeat was too slow. Two days later at our follow-up scan, she had passed. We were absolutely crushed. Shortly after a D&C procedure, our specialist called with the biopsy results. The baby had been genetically normal. The baby was a girl. I wish I hadn’t found out the gender. It made the loss more real and heartbreaking. The overriding takeaway though, was this loss confirmed that the issue was me. It was really hard to accept. But with the support of my family and friends and a wonderful counsellor, I was able to work through the grief of never being able to carry my own baby and to accept our next chapter: Surrogacy.


With surrogacy a more difficult process in Australia, we started in Canada with Julie, a selfless woman who felt compelled to help us. It was a long flight for the transfer but it was such an important milestone. But what happened next still haunts me. The day of the transfer, our specialist told us the shocking news that the container of embryos we had transported was empty. With a pounding heart and almost breathless, I kept asking him: “What do you mean by empty? Who can we call?” But there was no one to call. The embryos were gone. We knew that there's a standard protocol for transporting embryos, so what happened to us was extremely rare. 


This was one of lowest points during our journey. It was at this time I saw a psychologist who used hypnotherapy and cognitive behavioral therapy (CBT). She recommended that instead of fixating on what I didn’t have, to focus on what I did. And to try, as hard as it was, to not let the infertility consume me. Yes, it was a significant part of my life, but I shouldn’t let it be my identity. There is no question that adopting the CBT techniques helped me to cope. 


We pursued surrogacy next in the United States, our last hurrah. We had an instant bond with our beautiful surrogate Leigha and her husband Josh. I will always be in awe of surrogates. How someone who doesn’t know you, hears your story, and feels compelled to help you. Our first transfer sadly failed but our second transfer worked. We heard the heartbeat at our 8-week scan, and we all felt at peace. But at our 10-week scan, we learned the heartbreaking news our baby had passed. 


At this point I resigned myself to think we would never have a child. I wanted to scream and cry and be done with the whole thing. With every set back, I had faith. But this time the fight had vanished. I was struggling to move past the fact we were here again. But we had some good embryos left and our surrogate Leigha was determined to keep going. Ryan encouraged me, repeating everything our doctor had said about how the miscarriage was rare (sub chronic hematoma) and unlikely to happen again. 


We decided to try one last time. Leigha felt anxious but she charged into the final transfer giving it her all. Nine months later, our beautiful son Spencer was born. Today Spencer is five years old, and he is the love of our lives. 


I know how devastating and painful infertility can be. But for anyone struggling with infertility, you are not alone. There are many people out there experiencing infertility. Find those people. Talk to them. Lean on them. Surround yourself with love and support. Don’t suffer in silence.

  • Writer: Kirsten McLennan
    Kirsten McLennan
  • Feb 27, 2025
  • 4 min read

Our son Spencer was born through international gestational surrogacy (commercial) in Utah, USA. But I remember when we first started surrogacy, I found it overwhelming. As it’s not as common in Australia, I had never met a surrogate or anyone who had a baby through surrogacy. In the end, we found surrogacy to be an amazing and life changing experience.


If you’re thinking about surrogacy, at Wish for a Baby Australia, you’ll find out everything you need to know…from how to start an overseas surrogacy process to all the legal steps involved. You’ll also meet others going through the same journey as you. I’ll be at the IVFbabble booth, and you’re welcome to say hi if you have any questions about my surrogacy experience. Or you can message me anytime through my Instagram @straight.up.infertility





For us, it was our second fertility specialist in Australia who told us that surrogacy was our best option to have children. We had seen him for a second opinion, after several failed and cancelled IVF cycles and two miscarriages. He diagnosed me with having a thin endometrium lining and explained that surrogacy was our best chance of having a baby. And so our surrogacy journey began. 


Below are the key steps involved with international commercial surrogacy. And at Wish for a Baby Australia, there will be loads of specialists who can help you learn more about surrogacy. You’ll also have the opportunity to talk to experts from surrogacy agencies, legal firms, IVF clinics and more.  


Step 1 - Choosing an agency

There are plenty of surrogacy agencies you can talk to. We skyped with six agencies in the USA and all six were great. We ended up choosing a boutique agency, Rocky Mountain Surrogacy as we had an instant repour with the owner and we loved how hands-on she was. An agency matches you with a surrogate; recommends IVF clinics and lawyers; provides a cost estimate; and guides you through the entire process. 

Step 2 – The match 

The agency emailed us two profiles immediately. Surrogates go through a rigorous screening process, so you feel confident from the start. We skyped with one of the surrogates, Leigha, and we had an instant connection. This is so important. You must be able to trust this person 100%. 

Step 3 – The legal process 

We then met with a lawyer who specialised in fertility law. Having a lawyer is not essential but I strongly recommend it, especially if you’re doing international surrogacy. Our lawyer helped us with the contract; managing our funds through an escrow account; the pre-birth order; and citizenship for the USA. With the pre-birth order, in the USA, you can sign it before your baby is born to be legally recognised as the parents. 

Step 4 – Counselling  

Surrogacy is such an emotional experience and it’s a big commitment. Our mandatory counselling session proved invaluable as we talked through what to expect, our hopes, fears…. anything and everything that was on our minds.

Step 5 – The IVF clinic 

We transported our embryos from Australia, but we needed a clinic for the IVF transfer. Our surrogacy agency organised an introduction with the Utah Fertility Center and within a week, we met Dr Russell Foulk and started the process. 

Step 6 – The screening process  

Blood tests, blood tests, blood tests! It’s basically all the same screening tests you do for an IVF cycle, such as checking for infectious diseases. 

Step 7 – IVF transfers  

Only three months after we were matched, we did our first transfer. It sadly failed but for our second cycle, we did an Endometrial Receptivity Analysis (ERA) test, changed our transfer time (as Leigha was pre-receptive) and we fell pregnant. We heartbreakingly lost our baby around nine weeks due to a Sub-Chronic haematoma. But our next transfer was a success and nine months later, our rainbow baby was born.  

Step 8 – Pregnancy  

Once Leigha was pregnant, we skyped in for all the scans and appointments. We were in contact nearly every day. We built a strong and beautiful relationship. Everyone is different though so it’s best to openly discuss what kind of relationship you want before you start.   

Step 9 – The birth 

We had adjoining rooms at the hospital, and we were all in the delivery room for the birth. When Spencer was born, my husband cut the cord and then we had skin on skin contact. As you can imagine, there were floods of tears. 

Step 10 – Coming home 

Three weeks after Spencer was born, we flew home to Australia. With the help of our lawyer, we organised a USA passport and citizenship. Once home, we worked with our Australian lawyer to get Spencer’s Australian citizenship and passport. Everything went very smoothly. 


This is a snapshot of my personal surrogacy experience but please come visit me at Wish for a Baby Australia, or contact me on Instagram @straight.up.infertility, if you want to know more. I also share our full IVF and surrogacy story in my book This is Infertility

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