Idon’t consider myself to be lucky. I have never won the lottery, or even found a fiver in an old coat pocket. But there is one aspect in life where fortune has smiled on me: I am eight months pregnant with my first child – the result of IVF treatment.
Around three-quarters of all IVF cycles fail. And results vary with age. Figures from the Human Fertilisation and Embryology Authority (HFEA) published in March state the average live birthrate for each fresh embryo transferred for women of all ages is 21%; for those aged under 35, it is 29% – the highest it has ever been. For older women, the picture is bleaker: 10% for women aged 40-42, for example.
In 2011, then aged 36, I underwent one cycle of IVF, funded by my local NHS trust, before I was treated for breast cancer. The embryos were frozen and in 2016 I embarked on the next stage: implantation. Funding was unavailable because I was by then over 40 and it was clear to me that IVF funding was unfair, with huge regional variations. Only 41% of treatment cycles are funded by the NHS.
The outcome amazes me still: the first implantation attempt was successful. But, now that the dust has settled, my experience in the private sector has left me feeling discombobulated and angry. According to a recent report by healthcare researcher LaingBuisson, the UK fertility market was worth £320m in 2016, with private investors increasingly interested in the sector. When I heard this, it struck a nerve. Surely infertile patients are the losers when healthcare is run to make profits for investors?
IVF is expensive. And what makes it worse, says Hugh Risebrow, the report’s author, is the lack of pricing transparency. “The headline prices quoted may be, say, £3,500, but you end up with a bill of £7,000,” he says. “This is because there are things not included that you need – and then things that are offered, but are not evidence-based.”
For more read the full of article at The Guardian
