Rachel Mason’s life has been marked by a haunting ritual—making the same heart-wrenching phone call over and over again, each time carrying the weight of dreadful anticipation and despair.
This relentless cycle emerged as she struggled through the journey of infertility, receiving the same shattering verdict on no less than six occasions within two years: the words that would alter the course of her dreams—“you are not pregnant.”
“Every time, I felt like I’d failed,” she admits, grappling with a profound sense of disappointment. “I hate the word failure, but I wasn’t able to do the fundamental thing that we all presume we can do; the emotional toll was overwhelming.
Rachel, now 52, alongside her husband Jack Thorne, 45—the acclaimed Bafta award-winning writer known for his contributions to television’s His Dark Materials and the West End’s Harry Potter And The Cursed Child—embarked on their family-creation journey in 2013, nurturing hopes of parenthood.
However, by 2015, after undergoing six increasingly desperate rounds of IVF treatments, the couple found themselves still yearning for the family they so deeply desired, their dreams seemingly slipping further away.
“When you start IVF, you just assume it will happen,” Rachel reflects, holding onto her optimism. “I thought: ‘I’m not overweight, I’m healthy enough, surely it’s got to work?’
But time and again, the process yielded heartbreak. “But then it didn’t happen, again and again. I kept failing. We kept failing,” she recounts, a painful truth resonating in her voice.
The emotional landscape of this journey was steeped in darkness and isolation, riddled with arguments and intense feelings that weighed heavily on their bond as a couple.
At times, Rachel even contemplated leaving Jack, believing that her own fertility challenges were imposing a barrier to his dreams of fatherhood.
“I felt like I was letting him down,” she says, her voice thick with emotion. “He wanted a family, and if he was with someone else, then they could be popping them out. But he was stuck, struggling, with me.”
The most torturous part of the IVF experience was the two-week period between the embryo transfer and the follow-up pregnancy test, moments that Rachel dreaded as she awaited the fateful news from the clinic.
“That wait was appalling,” Rachel recalls, describing the emotional limbo. “You’ve got so many things on hold. It was the only thing in sharp focus; everything else paled into the background.”
Yet, in an unexpectedly joyous turn of fate, one fateful day in August 2015, Rachel and Jack received the life-affirming news they’d dreamed of since they first decided to start a family.
This time, the consultant’s words were different, infused with hope: “you are pregnant.”
Their son, Elliott—a tiny flicker on the ultrasound screen at the time—was later born at University College Hospital in London the following April, transforming the couple’s hopes into reality.
He is now eight-and-a-half years old, and in the eyes of Rachel, he is “absolutely glorious,” embodying all the love and struggle that went into his arrival.
“He is a mini Jack,” Rachel beams, reflecting on her son’s ambitions. “He’s got six or seven scripts on the go; he wants to be a writer. He is the joy of both our lives.”
Elliott has also served as the inspiration behind Joy, a new film starring notable actors James Norton and Bill Nighy, which Rachel and Jack co-created. The film has soared to the top of Netflix’s rankings following enthusiastic reviews.
The film explores the remarkable story of the pioneers of in-vitro fertilization, while also shining a light on Jean Purdy, an underappreciated nurse and embryologist whose groundbreaking contributions have gone largely unrecognized.
For Rachel and Jack, the project holds deep personal significance, marking their first collaborative effort as a couple.
“It was a true labour of love,” Rachel emphasizes, adding that, as a comedy agent, she typically remains behind the scenes. The couple’s usual privacy was set aside to share this profoundly personal narrative.
“I feel strongly, having been through IVF, that I want to be there for other people and push forth the message of what it’s like,” Rachel explains, hoping to shed light on the often-hidden anguish of infertility.
“I shut down a bit and became obsessed. Everyone around us was pregnant or had children of their own… there were days I could talk about it, and other days I was furious and jealous of people with babies.”
She remembers the anxiety permeating her daily life: “I couldn’t do anything without worrying about the implications. I remember running for a bus and thinking, ‘Well, that’s ruined it.’”
The film traces the journey of famed physiologist Bob Edwards (played by Norton), top surgeon Patrick Steptoe (Nighy), and Jean Purdy (portrayed by New Zealand actress Thomasin McKenzie), who at the age of 23 bravely applied for a role at an IVF research lab in Cambridge.
Over a decade, this innovative trio labored tirelessly—often facing skepticism from their peers and criticism from potent institutions, including the Church, which likened their endeavors to those of Dr. Frankenstein—as they sought to “cure childlessness.”
Their efforts culminated in 1978 when Louise Brown, the world’s first test-tube baby, made her entrance into the world at Oldham General Hospital, a poignant coincidence since it was also the location where Rachel was born.
Today, 12 million babies around the globe owe their existence to that groundbreaking team of British scientists, whose pioneering work reshaped the possibilities of parenthood.
Rachel and Jack immersed themselves in the film project during the lockdown period of 2020, alternating between research and home-schooling Elliott while digging through historical archives.
Discovering the story of Jean, who tragically lost her battle to malignant melanoma at the young age of 39 without having children of her own, presented Rachel with emotional challenges. “She was so private, which intrigued me,” Rachel shared. “None of her relatives are around to speak to. She was really difficult to crack.”
Through her quest for understanding, Rachel found letters that offered glimpses into Jean’s character and humor, complemented by insights from members of “The Ovum Club,” a group of women who bravely participated in early IVF trials.
Jean, despite her profound contributions, never engaged in the trials herself, and her own struggles with severe endometriosis limited her dreams of motherhood.
In one particularly poignant moment in the film, as Jean sits in a car with a fellow woman facing infertility, the two observe a pregnant mother receiving joyful news, leading Jean to confess, “I’m jealous of her, too.”
Rachel’s connection to Jean runs deep, as she too grapples with endometriosis. “I’ve also only got one ovary,” she reveals, highlighting the personal ties that bridge their stories.
Rachel had never truly contemplated motherhood until her paths crossed with Jack’s. Prior to meeting him, she entered her 40s in a content relationship sans children. But witnessing her sister Cath, partnered with comedian Frank Skinner, embrace motherhood changed her perspective.
“I fell in love with him, and with their relationship. And then I met Jack, and suddenly, it all made sense,” she confesses, reflecting on the serendipitous nature of their romance.
Their meeting unfolded on a train journey from London to Cornwall in 2011, resembling a storyline plucked straight from one of Jack’s scripts, as they frequently encountered each other at various social events.
Rachel was captivated one night when she witnessed Jack assisting a blind woman through a crowd at the BAFTAs, an act that solidified her feelings for him.
Their whirlwind romance quickly blossomed: their first date followed soon after, Jack proposed in 2012 in a uniquely delightful fashion—a treasure hunt leading to a ring—and they married a year later.
Rachel immediately began her quest for a baby. After realizing natural conception was not in the cards, they swiftly opted for IVF when tests indicated potential challenges ahead.
“In light of my age, I wanted to get on with it quickly,” she notes, expressing urgency. “We were in the fortunate position to have the choice to go privately.”
The couple never anticipated that it would require a grueling seven rounds of IVF—filled with the emotional rollercoaster of hormone injections, egg retrieval, fertilization, embryo implantation, and that agonizing pregnancy test—before they would finally see results.
Throughout the journey, Rachel admits to becoming completely fixated on the goal of having a child, whereas Jack remained focused on the statistical realities to uplift her spirit, often contrasting with her emotional turmoil.
Their differing coping mechanisms surfaced during an extravagant holiday to Ireland that ended in a heated argument, as Rachel insisted they skip the trip to prioritize another IVF round. “I was furious. I thought, what could be more important?” she recalled, highlighting the intensity of her desire.
The seventh IVF attempt in the summer of 2015 was arguably their last shot—a fraught realization that loomed heavily in Rachel’s mind.
“I feel like I couldn’t have taken much more. But who knows? Maybe I could have gone further.”
After their long-desired positive pregnancy test, Rachel faced further anxiety when she experienced a concerning bleed at five weeks. “They told me the bleed was bigger than the pregnancy, so it wasn’t looking good,” she recalls, allowing the worry to consume her.
Despite the initial scare, doctors soon confirmed a strong heartbeat, allowing Rachel to breathe easier as her pregnancy progressed smoothly thereafter.
Elliott’s arrival was marked by the surreal circumstances of a Caesarean section, with the melodic strains of the Stereophonics filling the delivery room—his due date, which had been April Fool’s Day 2016, came six days later.
Choosing his name was equally meaningful, as he was named after the beloved character from E.T., a movie both Rachel and Jack adore, symbolizing the extraordinary miracle of his conception.
Being an IVF mother, Rachel believes, has profoundly influenced her experience of parenting.
“Subconsciously, when you’ve fought for it, I think you enjoy it more,” she reflects, acknowledging the joys intertwined with challenges. “Sure, you have the 2am wake-ups and the relentlessness of having a tiny baby, but you think: ‘I’m knackered, but this was what I wanted all along.’”
Yet she also admits, “the negative side is that if you are super-tired, you don’t feel you can moan too much. You think of all the women who haven’t been so lucky.”
After Elliott’s birth, the couple chose not to pursue additional treatments.
“I don’t know if we could have gone back there, really,” she said, expressing appreciation for the family they had. “There was a sense of, we’ve got one beautiful child and we might never have had him. Let’s be happy with that.”
As Elliott grew, Rachel and Jack remained open about the path that led to his birth, as IVF informs their family narrative.
Today, Rachel selflessly volunteers for the national charity Fertility Network UK, leading a monthly support group while fostering open communication with Elliott about his beginnings.
The release of Joy aligns curiously with current societal conversations surrounding reproductive health, particularly as America faces potential restrictions on abortion that could reverberate through fertility treatment access. Meanwhile, in Britain, the NHS grapples with the realities of funding fewer IVF cycles than ever before, exacerbating waitlists.
Rachel argues passionately for accessibility to IVF, viewing it as a fundamental right for all couples grappling with infertility.
“The NHS is so stretched, and I don’t know the solution, but it is not fair that it’s based on where you live or how much money you have,” she proclaims, her voice filled with conviction.
“I know so many couples who can’t afford it, who have to crowd-fund or sell their houses to do it… ” she laments, revealing the harsh realities many endure.
Rachel believes that the pioneering trio—Bob, Jean, and Patrick—who blazed the trail for IVF and fervently sought NHS funding for it, would be deeply disheartened by the current barriers to access.
To this extraordinary group, Rachel feels an overwhelming sense of gratitude.
“What they did was miraculous,” she expresses sincerely. “They made that baby, all those babies—and my baby—possible. I can’t put my thanks into words.”
Joy is currently available for streaming on Netflix and in select UK cinemas, offering a powerful perspective on a pivotal aspect of modern reproductive health.
How can sharing personal stories help in building a supportive community for those experiencing similar challenges?
Ering connections between women experiencing similar challenges.
“I want to help others who might feel isolated in their journey,” she emphasizes, showing her commitment to making a difference in the lives of those facing infertility. Rachel’s role goes beyond mere support; she seeks to create a space where women can share their stories without judgment, where their emotional burdens can be lightened through solidarity and understanding.
The conversations within her support group often mirror her personal struggles, and Rachel finds strength in those shared experiences. “Hearing their stories reminds me that I’m not alone in this—it’s a universal struggle, one that isn’t often talked about openly,” she shares.
Rachel’s advocacy work is crucial, particularly in a society where discussions around fertility and infertility are often stigmatized or overshadowed by more traditional narratives of motherhood. By humanizing these issues and presenting them through her own lens of experience, she hopes to destigmatize the emotional turmoil that so many people face.
Ultimately, Rachel’s journey—from an IVF patient to a mother, and now an advocate—illustrates the profound connections between personal trials and the collective experiences of others. It’s a reminder that while each journey is unique, there is solace in community, and understanding can flourish when stories are shared. Through her film project and support work, she continues to honor Jean Purdy’s legacy and give a voice to those navigating the tumultuous waters of infertility.
