#27: Learning to surrender (Rachael's story)

"Studying won’t do shit for infertility, and I finally accepted this fact."

Hi friends — Kayti here.

It’s been a cozy, rainy, gloomy week here in LA — and honestly, the weather kind of matches the vibe lately. Not just in infertility circles, but in the world and the news cycles, too. For me, the holidays feel extra complicated and somehow still magical this year. It’s my first season as a mom, and if I’m honest, it’s a strange thing to finally have the thing I spent so long dreaming about. I don’t take any of it lightly, but I’m also still trying to process it all. It’s hard to fully settle into the moment when part of me still feels connected to who I was before — and deeply connected to everyone who’s still in the thick of infertility.

Thanksgiving and Christmas were always the hardest in my infertility and IVF journey, followed closely by New Year’s. Most of my treatments seemed to land in the second half of the year, so I was always walking into the holidays with fresh grief or another round of bad news. Then last year, I was finally pregnant after our transfer, but I spent the entire season holding my breath. I was in the first trimester and terrified of losing the pregnancy every day. I was confident the other shoe would eventually drop. Christmas looked like wearing a mask to avoid my entire family (shoutout to norovirus on Christmas Day) and googling every single symptom on Reddit. It felt impossible to relax. And now that our daughter is here, it somehow still feels a little like that — joy mixed with old fear, gratitude tangled up with memories of how hard it was to get here. Also: pressure to lean in hard and be over the moon with joy at all times.

Amy and I had a few long conversations this week because, friends, she is going through it. She’ll share more in future episodes— it involves surrogacy, and a lot of it has to stay private for now —but wow. This journey is brutal in ways people outside this space don’t fully see.

Your stories continue to touch us and move us. We’d be lying if we said this project was easy. It often means staying up late to edit podcast episodes or brainstorm social posts or figure out how to talk about things that are emotional for us, too. But hearing how this space has created room for those of you who’ve felt alone or isolated keeps us going. Truly. And today’s story is one of those reminders of why this community is so meaningful and so needed.

Sending you all so much love as we head into Thanksgiving week. No matter where you are on this journey, we hope you find even one small moment of pause, rest, or joy. You deserve that and more.

xo Kayti

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Rachael’s Story

Illustration by Annie Spratt on Unsplash

When my husband and I sat with our therapist for the first time, while waiting for our first fertility appointment, we answered the basic get-to-know-you questions. I distinctly remember describing ourselves as logical and pragmatic. We have science backgrounds, and I’m in healthcare, so I naturally viewed our issues through a Western medicine lens. Give me the statistics, the data, and I’ll be OK, I thought.

Three years later, I find fertility statistics to be incredibly unfair and a nightmare to hold onto. Their false sense of security wears you down when you repeatedly fall outside the bell curve and find yourself in the small percent, as an outlier, where it seems the algorithms don’t apply.

After a laparoscopy for painful periods showed a “negligible” amount of endometriosis, I was told I had “beautiful fertility” by my doctor. Almost fifteen years later, that moment feels like the beginning of a Greek tragedy. Why rush to start a family? I’m beautifully fertile! I need to be extra careful, better to use two types of protection! So we waited until we were settled in our careers—how I miss those blissfully unaware months with no pressure or worry on our minds. After over a year of trying, we were diagnosed with unexplained infertility and had several unsuccessful IUIs. Our first FET was successful, only to end in a miscarriage at the first ultrasound. It took over a week to miscarry, with several rounds of meds to help, and as the first anniversary of that appointment closes in, it feels like a new wound after itching a scab off.

The second transfer failed, and we pivoted to Lupron depot for presumed endometriosis. I really pivoted mentally and embraced anything that former me would have considered “woo woo.” I went gluten-free, did daily breathing exercises, listened to binaural beats, and whatever else was supposed to help regulate my parasympathetic system and change my mindset. I unlearned facing every decision like a test, with one correct answer and the rest wrong in a list of multiple choices. Studying won’t do shit for infertility, and I finally accepted this fact. My inner monologue became more generous, more loving. Maybe woo-woo isn’t the right term, more like “I eye rolled at self-affirmation before, but here I am mantra-ing my way out of a panic attack in the car.” With these changes, after all we went through, I felt hopeful.

I was so confident these changes with Lupron would work. It didn’t. We were gutted, and I mentally took a step back. My mind went to default mode, asking questions over and over in what I recall was a frantic haze to regain control, real or not.

But as the saying goes, there is only one way forward, and that is through. We regrouped and returned to the algorithm for next steps. The Receptiva screams endometriosis. Of course it does, I thought. Repeating Lupron was recommended, with medication tweaks. We asked our doctor, “Is this a common situation? Do we need to change course?” Hearing “not common, but it happens, I don’t think we need to consider alternative options” via Zoom provides plenty of doubt- was there a moment of hesitation? Did she sound convincing? Do we need to go to another clinic? Have we fallen outside of the flowchart, into uncharted and possibly hopeless water?

As we wait for the next transfer, I still follow fertility specialists online, hoping to find some new brilliant answer hidden in the depths of Instagram reels. I still wonder Why The Hell Can’t I Find My Exact Story On Reddit?? But surprisingly, even more so, I find myself leaning into the mantras and surrendering without the kicking and screaming I initially experienced.

Maybe this is the peaceful, hopeful lull before bad news like before. But maybe it isn’t. What if this outcome is not dictated by what happened before? Finally, a question that holds science and woo-woo together.

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New episode: Our favorite acupuncturist — and Kayti’s personal fertility fairy godmother — is on the pod today! Dr. Bento (Dr. Sarah Bentolila), DAIM, L.Ac, who treated Kayti for two years and played a huge role in helping her get pregnant, joins us for a deep and grounded conversation about acupuncture for fertility.

And if you’re not already subscribed on Apple + Spotify, hit that follow button so you don’t miss new episodes!

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Small ‘j’ joys 💜:

• we treated 10 followers to coffee this weekend - make sure you’re following us on social for more giveaways this winter!

• speaking of social: the kind of video we’d share in a group chat

• for those of you on the other side of IVF (or if you want to make a faith purchase): the best black friday deals for bb things

• we’ve upgraded our slipper game for winter and these. are. the. ones. 👏

• weekend mood:

  

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