Josephine’s fundraising story: Miles That Matter 2025
Josephine and Oliver’s story is one of fierce love and unimaginable loss. Through every setback, Josephine fought to become a mum - a journey shaped by heartbreak, hope, and the bond she shares with her little boy. Josephine recently honoured Oliver’s memory by taking part in Miles That Matter, walking each step in his name.
It bothered me that Oliver could not be registered or given a birth certificate, so I started with that.
When I was seven years old, I was diagnosed with non-classic congenital adrenal hyperplasia which is an overproduction of androgens (male hormone) I attended the sick kids’ hospital in Edinburgh from the age of 7 up until around the age of 17. This is where I was told I could possibly have trouble conceiving. I was only 16 when I found this out. I was then moved to the Royal Infirmary of Edinburgh as I was too old to be in sick kids by then.
I met my partner, Daniel when I was 18. I told Daniel about my hormone condition and that I had never experienced a menstrual cycle because of it and the possible fertility issues I might have. By the age of 21 we began talking about starting a family. We knew that if I was going to need fertility treatment, we would need to start ASAP as it could be a long process. We never thought it would take 10 years.
Daniel came to an appointment with me to see my endocrinologist (hormone doctor) at the Royal Infirmary and we asked about fertility. From there we were referred to the Simpsons Centre for Reproductive Health. It all happened fast and almost straight away, I was started on Clomid. Clomid is a medication that stimulates ovulation as i do not ovulate on my own. This medication did not work at all, so I was moved onto an injection called Gonal F which stimulates the ovaries to produce multiple follicles. The time that I would have to self-inject with this would vary as it all depended on how long it took for the follicles to grow but I was sometimes injecting this medication for up to 6 weeks at a time.
Once the follicles were of the correct size, I then injected a medication called Ovidrel which is a trigger shot that triggers ovulation. After the trigger shot, we had a 36-hour window where we would have to try and fertilise the follicle that released from the ovary. This medication did the job but unfortunately, we were never able to fertilise the egg on our own.
After 5 failed rounds with these injections and 6 years at the Simpson Centre, I was referred to Nine Wells Hospital in Dundee for IVF and had my first appointment in 2021. I was started on a day and night-time injection, Bemfola and Fyremaldel which again, helps the follicles to grow. Once they were mature enough, I went for an egg retrieval where they would take the follicles from my ovaries, fertilise them and watch them grow in the lab, making sure they were developing properly. During this egg retrieval they struggled to get to my right ovary because my ovaries were very swollen, and they had moved up beside other organs. The anaesthetic wore off during the procedure and i was in a lot of pain and wriggling around so they had to stop in case they punctured another organ. It was actually very traumatic.
When I went home after my egg retrieval, that very same night I ended up ill. I was taken to The Victoria Hospital in Kirkcaldy by an ambulance as I was struggling to breathe. It turned out that I had fluid around my spleen, fluid which had leaked from the ovaries. I was kept in overnight and released the next day. When I got home, I received a phone call from Nine Wells to tell me that they managed to retrieve just 3 eggs but none of them were mature enough to be used but that they would keep them for a further 24 hours to see if anything would happen. One egg matured overnight and grew for 5 days in the lab but then it died off. This was round 1 of 3 on the NHS over with.
Round 2 was the same process except this time they put me to sleep to retrieve the eggs. They only managed to get one and it wasn’t mature so round 2 was over. They told me that they weren’t prepared to give me round 3 with my own eggs as they were so poor quality so it would be simply pointless. They were however prepared to do it with a doner egg.
When I found out, at the age of 16, I would have fertility issues, my sister Samantha, told me that if I ever needed help to have a baby that she would help me. She was only 12 years old at the time and I never in a million years thought I would have to take her up on that promise, but I did. In 2023, Samantha started on the injections, went in for her egg retrieval and donated a massive 33 eggs to me and Daniel. 18 of those eggs fertilised and then 7 of those eggs made it to the freezer. I then started the process of preparing for egg transfer, where they would put one of Samantha’s eggs into my womb.
Halfway through the preparation, my transfer was cancelled because I had gained too much weight. With IVF comes a lot of rules. One being that a woman’s BMI must be below 30 or treatment does not go ahead. I already knew this as during the treatment with my own eggs, I worked very hard to lose weight with diet and exercise, mainly walking, keeping my BMI down. It is very difficult for me to lose weight and it’s difficult to keep it off as I take steroids for my hormone condition and of course a side effect of those steroids is weight gain. So, I let myself down when it came to my transfer with Samantha’s egg.
I went on a weight loss journey after my cancelled transfer, and I got my BMI back down under 30 and in July 2024 I went back again. I fell pregnant with this transfer but unfortunately, I miscarried at 6 weeks. I still think about the pregnancy often because a loss is a loss no matter the gestation.
In the December of the same year, I went back again for the second transfer, and I fell pregnant with Oliver. I was really frightened in case I miscarried again, so I went for a private scan every 2 weeks, but after my 12-week NHS scan I finally started to relax. Everything was perfect. He was thriving at every scan. I can still remember the feeling of my heart bursting with pride watching him move around inside of me.
At 14 weeks I had a bleed, I panicked and went to the hospital. They scanned me and told me that the baby was perfectly fine but that I had a small clot under the placenta which had caused the bleed. The clot was gone when I went for a private scan a week later.
I had my gender reveal on Saturday 22nd of March. We let my sister set off the canister after everything she had done for us. A huge cloud of blue smoke filled the air. A wee boy. We were so happy. There was not a dry eye in the place. It was finally happening for us.
On Monday 24th March I went to work. I work nightshift, so at 4am in the morning I started to get mild pain in my back and mild cramping in my stomach. It was the beginning of labour, but I did not realise this at the time. When I got home at 07:30, the pain got worse, but I went to sleep anyway. I woke up at 09:50 in agony. I tried to walk the pain off by moving around the house, but it did not work. I felt like I needed to go to the toilet, so I did but when I sat down, I felt something try to slide out, so I quickly closed my legs together and pushed it back up. I put my hand down there to feel what it was and to me it felt like the baby’s head, so I called my mum to come to my house as she only stays 2 minutes away. She called an ambulance when she got to my house and seen what was happening. She knew I was in labour and what was coming out was the water sack.
By this time, I knew I was in labour too because I so desperately needed to push. I kept him in there until we got to the hospital and on 25th March, at 12:13pm, weighing 200g and measuring 22cm, my little boy, Oliver Sam Currie was born at 18 weeks and 2 days. He was absolutely perfect. His daddy cut his cord, and he was wrapped in a little blue blanket with a little blue hat. Oliver was named after his Auntie Samantha, my little sister, who was the one that gave Daniel and I the opportunity to be Oliver’s mum and dad. I am very proud of his name. Oliver never left my side until the day he was buried. He met all of his family, we tucked him in at night, we played him nursery rhymes, and we told him at every opportunity how much we love him.
On 3rd April he was laid to rest with his great grandad, Dey James. His little white casket was lowered into his resting place with a baby blue ribbon held by myself, Daniel, his grandad Rod (Daniels dad) and his great uncle George (my uncle). The song “Small Bump” by Ed Sheeran was played on entrance to the cemetery and the song “You’ll be in my heart” by Phill Collins was played on exit. We released 2 white doves at the cemetery and they both flew home together, representing my Dey James taking Oliver home. After Oliver’s funeral my grief was slowly taking over, and I did not want that. So, I started to work on keeping Oliver’s name alive and keeping myself busy doing so. It bothered me that Oliver could not be registered or given a birth certificate, so I started with that. Daniels step mum, Karen found out about the Memorial Book of Pregnancy and Baby Loss, so we got Oliver registered on that and we received a certificate in return. Although it is not a legal document of birth, it is still something.
After that, I come across the Miscarriage Association on Facebook. I know and appreciate the kind of work they do and how they help women in my position so when I saw the Miles That Matter challenge, I just knew it was meant for me. I am currently working on lowering my BMI again in order to go back for my 3rd transfer and as I stated previously, I do this by walking a lot so why not make the miles matter and raise money for the Miscarriage Association while I’m at it and of course, do it in Oliver’s name which keeps his story alive.
It was actually my mum who contacted the Central Fife Times with Oliver’s story. I did not expect it to make the front page, but I couldn’t be any prouder that it did. I am currently in the process of writing a book, Oliver’s Journey. I don’t know if anything will come of it, but there’s no harm in trying. My next fight, when I’m ready, will be giving him a little brother or sister as I still have 5 eggs in the freezer. I will never stop fighting for Oliver.
