TV Review: Celebrity Health Stories – Nicola Adams, me and IVF

ITV's 'Celebrity Health Stories' is a factual programme focusing on various women's health aspects from painful periods to breast implants. I am generally not very keen on celebrity culture. However, when I noticed that one of these episodes featured Nicola Adams (Olympic gold medalist and Strictly Come Dancing participant) and was titled 'Me and IVF', I was intrigued and decided to watch on.

During this episode, Adams takes us on a journey through of her and her partner (Ella Baig)'s glamorous celebrity lifestyle, and their attempts to create a family via IVF. Adams, a retired boxer, characterised this process as 'the biggest battle of her life'. Right from the beginning we are witnesses to both women living in a fantastic London location, getting ready for two different red-carpet events, and being avid social media users; Tik Tok features extensively.

In order to both participate in the process of conceiving, they decided to use Adams' eggs, sperm from a donor that looked like Baig, and have Baig carry the pregnancy. Like many other patients embarking on IVF, Adams and Baig thought they would get pregnant immediately, but this was not the case. Their first IVF attempt failed, the second led to a miscarriage, and it was only after the third attempt that they finally had a baby boy. All IVF cycles took place privately, and the total cost was £15,000.

I have a professional and scientific interest in fertility, IVF and related processes, and have had many conversations with clinicians, embryologists, and patients. So, I am very well aware of all these difficulties (emotional and financial) that couples can face to achieve what they want most, which is a healthy child. Yet, I found it almost impossible to watch this documentary. I imagine it was created to explain the trials and tribulations associated with IVF to the lay public. In my opinion, it failed miserably on all fronts.

Adams narrates her experience with the first IVF failure and subsequent miscarriage in an almost robotic way, completely lacking any emotion. Throughout the documentary, Adams' main interest appears to be to show off how rich and successful she is, and chat about her thousands of Tik Tok followers. Anything related to IVF is secondary. Narration on the cost of IVF, and how difficult it must be for less well-off couples, goes hand-in-hand with images of Adams' lavish London flat, a 3D 20-week ultrasound scan of her unborn baby in a Harley Street clinic, and a big house with an even bigger garden that the couple bought in their hometown, Leeds, for their planned four-child family.

When talking about IVF failure and associated emotional and financial costs, they bring in a heterosexual couple who went through five IVF attempts and used up all their savings to finally have a son. Adams and Baig's conversation with this couple feels forced, rehearsed, and lasts very little time to deliver the impact that the creators of this documentary were attempting.

I also found the discussion about sperm donors gobsmacking. We initially see images of Adams and Baig scrolling through gamete donation websites and making mindless comments about the genetics of potential sperm donors. Their search for a sperm donor resembles online shopping. We hear Baig describe identifying the biological father of their child as 'shopping for a person', which I found particularly disturbing.

There is a fleeting mention, followed by a more extensive discussion, on donor anonymity. This discussion focuses on the fact that the couple's son will be able to find out who his biological father is when he turns 18, something that neither Adams or Baig seem to like very much. They dislike this idea so much, that they need to have a conversation with a clinical psychologist specialising in gamete donation, which I suppose was intended to help viewers understand the UK's laws around gamete donation. The only thing it achieved, though, was to show Adams and Baig in a self-centred light, almost admitting in front of the cameras they think that father figures are completely unnecessary in a child's life.

Same-sex versus heterosexual couples' access to NHS-funded IVF treatments was also clumsily addressed. Adams and Baig met fertility equality campaigners Megan and Whitney Bacon-Evans who launched legal action after they had to pay large sums of money for failed cycles of artificial insemination,before becoming eligible for NHS-funded IVF (see BioNews 1121). Their campaign was one factor that led the government to announce the Women's Health Strategy would include plans to remove additional barriers to IVF for female same-sex couples (see BioNews 1152) – a significant achievement, yet it was barely covered.

The documentary closed with the premature birth of Taylor Nate Adams. Adams attempts to steal the show then too, by pretending to be a doctor, and making a fuss about how she finds buttoning poppers difficult.

I found 'Me and IVF' to be self-indulgent, emotionless and pointless. The documentary was all about Adams' successful and glamorous lifestyle, her relationship with Baig, and how frequently she posted content on Tik Tok, rather than anything related to 'an emotional and highly personal journey of IVF treatment and pregnancy'. I am not sure how well this documentary did, as far as the associated TV ratings are concerned, but I will definitely not be recommending it as a must-see to anyone I know.