There are certainly lifestyle changes you can make to help the IVF process along, of course, and I’ve made them all. It’s best to reduce your caffeine intake to 200 mg a day, for example, so I’ve cut down to one cup of coffee or two matcha lattes. Alcohol’s out, too, so I’ve been taking advantage of the golden age of mocktails (my vote: Seedlip and Athletic Brewing Co. are the best non-alc options around). Exercising is tricky, so I’ve mostly been sticking to walking at least 10,000 steps a day and gentle yoga. The general consensus around food is that the Mediterranean diet is best, and supplements are a must (ask your doctor for a list; they vary depending on your protocol). I’ve also added weekly fertility acupuncture sessions at Yinova Center to the mix (research has shown that acupuncture helps with IVF outcomes), and I’ve started doing ten minute IVF meditations most mornings.
But remember: I’m still not pregnant! I bring this up not for sympathy, but to remind you that infertility is still a medical issue, and these extras are just that: extras. They are not going to make or break your odds of success. It’s all too easy to drive yourself crazy doing all of the things and then blame yourself for not “doing even more to relax” if you get a negative test. (The irony is rich.) In the end, the lesson is do what you can, but don’t worry if you slip up. The majority of this process is out of your control anyway.
Try to stay in your own lane.
About a year into IVF treatments, I had a session with Jennifer Racioppi, a professional astrologer and transformational coach. Jennifer immediately got on my level, and had one huge takeaway for me: Put your blinders on and stay in your own lane. She reminded me it’s all too easy to “compare and despair” while experiencing infertility, especially when it seems like everyone you know is getting pregnant—so it’s key to do everything in your power to eliminate this possibility from the equation.
For me, this has meant finely curating my social media (I’ve muted a lot of people who are pregnant or have young kids), leaning into all of the self-care (massages, manicures, long nature walks…anything that makes me feel good), and finding people I can talk to who are in my lane and understand what Rahul and I are going through. I’ve never been much of a joiner in terms of support groups, but I have leaned on friends and family members who’ve either spent time in the infertility trenches themselves, or taken the time to research each step so they know what I’m talking about when I’m freaking out. Ultimately, it’s really comforting to be able to talk about the nuances of the process at length with people who just get it. Not having to explain every complicated step is a big relief—so be sure to find people like that, whether they’re online or in your own circle IRL. It makes all the difference.
Your friends and family may not know how to tell you they’re pregnant. Be proactive about telling them how you want to receive the news.
When you’re struggling with infertility, it’s impossible not to hear pregnancy announcements and feel triggered and depressed about your own: Why not me? And in an ideal world, your loved ones would Google “how to tell your infertile friends that you’re pregnant” to help lessen the blow. But I have learned the hard way that they will probably not look up how to handle this delicate situation. The truth is, most people who have never gone through IVF simply don’t understand how hard the process is, and therefore don’t realize just how much their words and actions can impact you as a result. Or, some do understand how hard it is, but won’t know what to say to you—or will often avoid the subject entirely—because confrontation and tough conversations can feel scary to them. My advice: Don’t blame them for this (it’s not like we learn this stuff in school!), and advocate for yourself instead. If you know any of your friends or family members are trying (naturally or through fertility treatments), tell them in advance how you would like to receive the news. The general consensus in the infertility community is that finding out through text or email, not in person, is best for this. This leaves you time to process the news on your own, because yes, it is news that requires processing. However you choose to handle it, the key is to take control and be proactive.
Allow yourself time to grieve.
IVF can be a really traumatic process, particularly after a failed cycle when you realize you somehow lost something that was never even yours. My advice: Take time to properly grieve, both on the day you receive the bad news and in the weeks after. When everyone around you is reminding you the clock is ticking—and you yourself know the clock is ticking—it can be hard to find it within yourself to pause, but it’s imperative that you do. In my early days of IVF, I tried to keep working through the pain after getting “the call” from the clinic, and not only did I get nothing done, I ended up feeling even worse about not being productive. Now I know to clear my schedule ahead of time to the best of my ability, because I know I’ll need time to process. I’m getting a call tomorrow, for example, to tell me if our embryo from our last retrieval made it through genetic testing, so I’m trying to finish writing this article today. If I find out the embryo didn’t survive, I know I’ll just want to order takeout, cry, and stare at the ceiling. And that’s okay! Instead of beating myself up for not being “stronger,” as I did in the beginning of this whole ordeal, I’ve learned to be gentle with myself and give myself space to feel sad.