Wearing shades perhaps? Weaving his way through Hackney’s narrow streets in a stretch limo past the

Wearing shades, perhaps? Weaving his way through Hackney’s narrow streets in a stretch limo, past the building work and the municipal toilets to the stage door? Naturally the paparazzi will be muscling in to get shots of those luvvies who have ventured out of the West End spotlight and into the East End twilight to be part of the Ralph experience. Tonight, Hollywood comes to Hackney as Ralph Fiennes arrives for the first night of Hamlet at the Hackney Empire.
Quite how he is going to arrive no one is sure. This can be serious, and women have been known to have a stroke or die.”So there you have it The whole experience felt utterly low-tech Still, three months later, I’m pregnant With twins Isn’t science incredible these days?. Hackney on a grim, grey February morning Rubbish and dust are swirling underfoot. Some of the shop fronts look as if they haven’t seen a lick of paint, or a customer, for 30 years Hackney, poorest borough in London

Tonight, all that is going to change. Am now convinced I have “ovarian hyperstimulation syndrome”: “Problems may still arise despite our care,” says the leaflet “Loss of fluid … may lead to dehydration, leading to blood thickening and clot formation.

“You should experience only crampy discomfort as each follicle is drained,” says the leaflet This is a lie. I weep.Embryo transfer: We arrive in the early evening to the news that, at 9am, none of my extra embryos were good enough to freeze Then, as the day wore on, they perked up What a remarkable coincidence This is definitely a conspiracy Meanwhile, two are shot (painlessly) into my uterus “Probably not even mine,” I mutter. In hospital the next day, an intravenous cocktail of painkiller and tranquilliser. I am convinced it’s a conspiracy – like the Michael Douglas movie, Coma – to collect embryos for research.Egg collection: Chemical overload: a late-night tranquilliser followed by injection of a hormone extracted, delightfully, from the urine of pregnant women. Had two destroyed in the womb, then miscarried the lot.” We go for two. It’s pretty academic – the jolly chart is now showing a pregnancy rate of 10 per cent. Nobody even notices.Ultrasound scan: To count and measure follicles.

The man in the navy trousers and white shirt is back, but everybody carries on ignoring each other.Afterwards, we chat to a nurse about what to do with the extra embryos (freeze, donate to other women, give up for research) and how many embryos to put back “Oh, it’s up to you,” she says “But put it this way A woman here recently conceived quins. My husband has learnt a furiously complex mixing and injecting procedure, administered every morning into alternate buttocks It is agony I feel I have been kicked in the rear by a horse I keep sniffing I now do it quite openly: on the bus, in the cinema “It’s a rare form of asthma,” I explain. We can then discuss ways we can help, but it is important to plan well in advance.” What kind of help can this be? Eventually, my husband gives up waiting “Dirty old man,” he proclaims on the way to the loo. “He’s just having a good look at the porn magazines.” I feel ridiculously proud when he returns, triumphant, a mere five minutes later.Pergonal: This drug causes egg-carrying follicles to grow on each ovary. My husband, meanwhile, has been waiting 20 minutes for his turn in the room. Twenty minutes! Didn’t the man read the leaflet? “If you foresee your partner having difficulty producing a semen sample at the hospital or on demand, please let Sister (or any one of us that you find easy to approach) know as soon as possible. This requires a visit to the hospital’s Assisted Conception Unit, aka the House of Shame.