When Luke McLeod found out he had zero sperm, he asked wife Brittany a heartbreaking question.

If you want to support independent women's media, become a Mamamia subscriber. Get an all-access pass to everything we make, including exclusive podcasts, articles, videos and our exercise app, MOVE.

I never knew if children would be part of my future. I've always been mindful of maintaining my independence, and I LOVE what I do for work. So, I decided that if I were to have kids, I would only have one, allowing me to enjoy motherhood while continuing to pursue my career and maintain my financial freedom, too.

Yet, after repeatedly missing the mark on meeting "Mr. Right," I assumed that it wouldn't happen for me. And then I met Luke.

We first crossed paths at a media event I was hosting. It was one of those rare moments when our eyes met, and everything seemed to stop. But the job pulled me away, and we didn't get a chance to chat further. A few months later, as I was about to delete my Hinge account, I noticed that I had a "like" from him. I liked him back, he responded quickly and invited me to dinner in the city.

On one of our early dates, while playing 20 Questions after a few glasses of wine, the topic of kids came up. Luke shared how much having children meant to him. We even chose our child's name during this conversation. Our relationship progressed quickly due to lockdowns. We moved in together within three months. After enjoying our relationship for nearly two years, we began making plans to have a baby. I updated my health insurance and started tracking everything using the Natural Cycles app to give us the best chance of conceiving quickly.

Watch: The reality of IVF leftovers — Australia's biggest fertility dilemma. Post continues below.

As soon as my insurance waiting period ended, we began trying, and Luke even proposed soon after on my birthday weekend in Tasmania, which was a fun surprise.

We had no idea what we were in for, and the journey turned out to be far more complicated than we ever expected. Yet, those years of struggle strengthened our relationship in ways we never imagined. I suppose there really can be a silver lining even in unexpected situations.

Image: Supplied.

Discovering Luke's infertility.

The first month we tried, I had about a week's worth of extreme nausea. We were sure I was pregnant. It was a shock to discover we weren't. This happened for several more months until I figured I should curb my enthusiasm, as I couldn't continue being disappointed every month. I had an eating disorder when I was younger, so I'd assumed it would have done some damage. I figured we would let fate decide.

After a year, Luke decided to do a sperm test while I was away for work. He self-referred, wanting to see if there was anything he could do to improve our chances.

When I got home, he seemed sad and not himself. That evening at dinner, he told me we needed to talk. He showed me the results: "NIL." No one had called him with an explanation, so both of us were confused, especially since I had experienced months of nausea. Then he told me he had also found a lump. At the time, that was the most harrowing moment of my life. We had to wait several days for him to see a doctor; thankfully, it wasn't cancer, but the experience was terrifying.

Luke did another sperm test, and it came back NIL again, but I was just so relieved that he didn't have cancer. The fertility concerns no longer felt urgent to me, but then I remembered how much fatherhood meant to him.

The IVF experience.

Luke suggested we try IVF to see if there was a way we could make a baby happen. We found an incredible fertility doctor who worked with the local IVF team on my treatment, while Luke was referred to a specialist who does the "Micro TESE" surgery to find sperm in difficult cases.

Luke's specialist said there was a 40 per cent chance that they would at least find something. To be honest, though, if she said he had a 5% per cent chance, I think he would have still gone through with it. 

We lined up my IVF treatment with Luke's surgery so we could create embryos immediately. My whole IVF experience was fascinating. It's amazing what they can do. I also walked out of my procedure feeling more hydrated and rested than I had ever felt in my life, which was a surprise.

Luke's was another story.

The surgery was around four hours long, highly invasive, and he came limping out of the theatre looking ghostly white. I could see the nurses' faces behind him, which told me that it didn't go well. Luke received the call on our way home, saying that they had found nothing. I have never seen him so broken. His surgeon sent some samples to be tested to ensure 100 per cent certainty.

A month later, he received another call saying that they had done every test and they would never find sperm. The door is closed.

The Australian donor system: A shocking surprise that defies logic. 

The IVF team called and offered us counselling following the outcome. We initially declined, but they explained that to enter the donor system, three counselling sessions were required, and this could count as one of them. So, we decided we'd at least explore this option further.

Our first session was so shocking, and we were both so upset by it that Luke asked if I wanted a divorce so I could have a chance at having a baby with someone else. He expressed how terrible he felt for not being able to give this to me. It was an incredibly sad moment, but leaving him over this was never a consideration for me.

In our first counselling session, I asked who to speak to about finding a donor who was not only DNA-compatible with me (to do IVF, we had to do a Duo Screen test to ensure our blended genetics didn't carry a high risk for around 350 conditions) but also someone with similarities to one of us. It's no secret that donor children may face struggles around identity and belonging; we really did not want that for our child.

We were told that you can't work with someone who can find you a suitable donor that meets your needs. You go on a donor list, which may take 3–6 months. Then, one day a week, if there are new donors, they will be released into the system. If that's 4pm Monday, be online at 3:55 pm, and if you see a donor with an (obvious similarity that I will not explicitly write), click as fast as you can, because everyone else like you will. That's the closest you're getting to a donor who resembles you.

This led to a conversation about adoption, which they didn't want to discuss. Eventually, I suggested we could find a donor privately and pay him $10,000 so we could find one that suited us. 

I was told that paying a donor was extremely unethical and illegal in Australia. However, for $14,500, the donor team could place us on the American donor list, which would expedite our process and provide us with many more options.

Feeling extremely disheartened, we decided to go on the American donor list.

For the next few months, we had numerous discussions with multiple people about how relieved we were to have options through the American list and how absurd it felt that the Australian system seemed to view playing "sperm roulette" with a child's DNA as more ethical than paying a donor.

Unfortunately, no one corrected our misunderstanding until I decided to contact multiple donor clinics to get us added to more lists. It was a competitor who told me that American donors also cannot be paid, so there were still very few options. Their clinic, partnered with overseas clinics, showed NSW-compatible donors who hadn't been paid and were limited to five samples each (NSW enforces a five-family rule, which we support). In total, there were around nine donors available through that clinic.

We confronted our donor clinic about this, and they appeared unsettled that we had called a competitor. They insisted that only they could guarantee the five-family rule because they purchase all five samples from a single US donor, selling his samples off before moving on to the next. So, despite all of our conversations, we actually only had one option.

Looking at the "low-hanging fruit" of this situation, it would appear that over $70,000 was being made between a US and Australian IVF clinic on each of the very few American donors willing to donate without payment for the Australian market.

After that meeting, I broke down and told Luke I couldn't do it. It is too risky; I didn't like that we were essentially being told to take what we can get. Many of the comments made, and the Australian fertility rules, also made me feel bad about myself and uncomfortable.

Should I be thankful for anything I can get? Or should I advocate for my child and do what's right by them? The system really misses the mark on treating parents and children like human beings; there is so much wrong with it.

Falling pregnant.

That's when Luke suggested we ask his brother. We hadn't considered this earlier because we thought the system would have worked, and we didn't think we would have to bring anyone else into this. But the system is obviously broken. 

However, the more we thought about this new option, the more it made sense. There's no one closer to Luke's DNA than a family member. Luke asked his brother and made it clear that there was absolutely no pressure for him to do this for us. But after a few days of thinking about it, he came back to Luke and said it would be an honour. We are incredibly thankful.

Listen: What's going on with IVF in Australia? From embryo mix-ups to calls for nationalised regulation, we're looking at the latest developments. Post continues below.

Once we managed to get the embryos created, I fell pregnant on the first go (our fertility doctor and nurses were really, really good), which was a relief because every time you unfreeze an egg or embryo, it costs around $4k. 

Because we had such a hard time up until this point, we kept our excitement at bay until we had the results of the NIPT test back. To our delight, our result was low-risk, and we discovered we were having a girl! We did our first little gender reveal that weekend. 

The next day, we went in for our 12-week scan, only to discover our bub had additional NT fluid behind her neck, and our excitement instantly turned into dread. The nurse told us there was nothing we could do. We just had to wait for our next round of tests and scans, which couldn't happen until she was 16 weeks. Then we had to wait longer for the results. Now that truly was the worst five weeks of my life.

Thankfully, she has the all-clear now, and while we are still being monitored, we are happy we can finally enjoy our pregnancy and this next chapter in our lives.

We are also very grateful to everyone who helped us along the way.

Feature Image: Supplied.