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Following our wedding, I had three miscarriages and was totally devastated. Neighbors insulted us because we couldn’t produce a child, and even our own relatives said I was ‘cursed’ and that my husband should remarry. Thankfully, he was compassionate and supportive, and said he loved me no matter what.

India, especially in the 1970s and 1980s, didn’t have much help or advice and I resigned myself to believing I would never have a child. Then one day in 2012, I saw an advert on TV for the National Fertility & Test Tube Baby Centre in Haryana, northern India – a clinic that carried out IVF. I’d never even heard of IVF before, but I excitedly told Mohinder that we had to try, and he agreed.

The first two attempts, in 2013 and 2014, failed. Then in July 2015, 20 years after my menopause, the doctor told me I’d conceived. Mohinder and I wept with joy. Friends and relatives all told me I was wrong to fall pregnant at my age, that I was too old to look after a newborn and I’d die before my child was an adult. But I ignored them. The baby would be so loved it would be enough to last a lifetime, whether we were there or not.

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