Why I'm opening up about my IVF journey - and why other parents should too

A lot of families still shy away from speaking openly about the process for fear of judgment or criticism

Anya, left, and Inaya were conceived through IVF. Shweta Jain / The National

Ever since we got married, my husband and I have both wanted children. But we had a lot going against us.

We were already in our mid-thirties when we got married. And early in our marriage, I suffered from a chronic back issue. So, fully aware that our biological clocks were ticking, we realised fairly early that our options were limited as we tried to conceive.

After a lot of research, we finally decided that in vitro fertilisation, or IVF, would be our best bet. We also found out that the journey was going to be long and challenging one, financially and physically.

Social stigmas attached to infertility can be a major hurdle for couples seeking IVF treatment. Even in today’s times, some view a couple having medical help to conceive as a personal failure. A lot of families still shy away from saying their kids were born through IVF and would rather keep the fact hush-hush, for the fear of judgment or criticism by the society.

I am, obviously, sharing this from my own personal experience, fully understanding that everyone's experiences and journeys with IVF will be different from mine.

Nikhil, my husband, and I decided early on that we would keep the decision to ourselves. Why worry our family and close friends? It would also allow us to avoid any explaining and questioning. We could always just tell everyone when we became pregnant … or so we thought.

However, after speaking to several doctors in the UAE and abroad, we decided to have the treatment in our native India. Immediately, this meant we had to amend our decision of keeping it quiet. The doctor we liked was located in Delhi, which is where my parents lived. So we made the decision to tell both our parents and to our surprise, received instant support from them – with almost no questions – which was amazing.

We would soon realise just how much we needed their support.

I took two weeks off from work and went to Delhi for the first cycle. I woke up one morning to see purple marks all over my stomach – a result of the injections I had started to take for the IVF treatment. It was a shock.

Telling our parents turned out to be the best thing we could have done. They were caring and supportive through the physically painful process, and especially when we found out the result of the first transfer was negative – the first of many.

When I started my IVF treatment – the first cycle was in 2015 – it was enlightening to see how people in the waiting area behaved at the regular clinic visits. While some would speak about their experiences, others sat with their faces hidden behind a magazine.

As we went through our second cycle, we decided to open up to our close relatives and friends. Not only did this allow us to be more social while going through another cycle, the support system we built also made the process easier. Sure, there were some who offered unhelpful suggestions but in general, contrary to our expectations, most people were extremely supportive.

We also decided to tell our respective managers at the time. Taking two to three weeks off regularly was not easy. And the process was taking a toll on me mentally as well, which was sometimes affecting my work. My manager was not only supportive but went out of the way to accommodate my last-minute requests for travel, while also allowing me to work remotely and keeping my workload light during the cycles.

Couples undergoing IVF treatment go through myriad emotions. I remember undergoing feelings of despair, anger, stress, anxiety, sadness, happiness, excitement and hope – sometimes all at the same time.

The stress of injecting yourself daily with hormones, going through scans, several cycles of egg retrievals and then, the final stage of embryo transfer, can take a toll on your body and mind. That said, the two-week wait after the transfer to see whether or not the embryo has implanted in your womb is the hardest part.

The only thing that should matter at the time of the treatment is how you can prepare yourself to handle the psychological impact of the treatment, not what people would say or think.

Two to three years into the process, I was on the verge of giving up. Taking flights every 15 to 20 days for procedures was taking its toll and I struggled to balance work and IVF. I have even taken a few of the trigger shots – the final and the most important injection before the embryo transfer – in an airplane washroom.

For the final cycle, we moved the treatments to Mumbai, where my in-laws live. Here again, having a support system while you are on this emotional rollercoaster ride was priceless.

Looking back, I can confidently say I had the will to go on and try again every single time only because I had the strong support of my husband and our families.

After five years of doing IVF runs (with a break year in between), it’s not the memories of taking those trigger shots in the airplane or the purple marks on my stomach that I hold dear, but how happy I felt when the doctor said: “Congratulations, you are having twins!”

Anya and Inaya were born in March 2020.

My husband and I speak openly about our IVF journey, in the hope that it will help and educate those who perhaps are considering a similar path but are reluctant to.