Navigating fertility treatment: “Fear is what holds many South Asians back from being honest about their fertility journeys”

Unlike many South Asians facing fertility issues, my husband and I have always shared our struggles with our close family and friends. We told them about our early pregnancy loss shortly after it happened, then about each IVF cycle in real time. When we decided to move forward with donor eggs after four unsuccessful rounds, we also discussed this new direction with them. Despite feeling out of their depth, they continued to offer us their support and wish us the best.

Part of the reason why we were so open with our families is because we both have cousins who have undergone IVF, adopted, or used a donor. Since these stories have never been hidden from us or spoken about in a derogatory way, we felt that ours would be equally encouraged. After all, our parents wanted to become grandparents, so they were happy to help us achieve our goal!

Another reason is that neither family is overly concerned about their community’s opinions. So many South Asians are, which is understandable given our immigrant background and need for solidarity in an unfamiliar and increasingly unfriendly environment. Going against the grain means bringing shame on our community and can, therefore, lead to being ostracised and vulnerable. While our parents respect their communities, they don’t live in fear of them, and neither do we as a result.

Fear is what holds many South Asians back from being honest about their fertility journeys. Fear of losing our parents’ respect or love. Fear of ruining our family’s reputation. Fear of being labelled as ‘defective’. Fear of being shunned as our misfortune might be contagious (for example, women who have suffered miscarriage or stillbirth are sometimes urged to stay away from baby showers because their presence might negatively impact the unborn child). Fear of being blamed for having done something in our past lives to deserve this fate. Fear of losing our partner’s love. Fear of being replaced.

Using a donor often adds more fears into the mix. What if our baby looks like our donor – what will people say about us, our marriage and our baby? If we struggle to bond with them, will everyone notice and speculate about how we conceived? Will our story be told as a cautionary tale? Should we tell our child that they were donor-conceived (DC)? What if they inadvertently tell people – how should we respond? But if we don’t tell them, will they eventually find out for themselves? What if they reject us for not telling them the truth and drive them towards their donor?

We thought long and hard about whether to pursue donor conception. It was a tough decision, but I’m grateful that we could fully focus on our desires and limitations without the influence of external pressures. Early on, we ruled out using an anonymous donor because we believed our potential child had the right to know their conception story, and to learn more about their biological mother if they so wished. We didn’t want to keep any secrets from them and risk damaging our relationship in the long term.

Perhaps controversially, we also chose not to have a South Asian donor. With an estimated wait of two to three years for a suitable match and our advancing age, we considered other options. For me, this wasn’t a devastating development as I felt that having a South Asian child using an egg from a South Asian donor would remind me that another woman was able to do what I couldn’t. If my husband wasn’t also South Asian, I might have felt more strongly about preserving my heritage.

As it was, we had an exciting opportunity to broaden our potential child’s heritage. We therefore picked Spanish and Ecuadorian donors since their physical characteristics are similar to mine. Both were available in the UK, which was advantageous, as:

1. We preferred non-anonymous donation - since 2005, DC children in the UK can discover their donor’s identity at 18
2. We didn’t want to undergo treatment abroad due to the ongoing uncertainty around travel restrictions during the pandemic and the fact that fertility treatment isn’t regulated in other countries in the same way as it is in the UK.

At this point, I had been sharing our story online for several years, which I continued to do. The format differed, however, because these DEIVF (donor egg IVF) cycles were documented in a video diary series. Discussing the highs and lows of this experience as they happened was difficult at times, especially when I miscarried, but it gave viewers a true insight into the complexities of TTC (Trying To Conceive) life.

I also hoped that seeing a South Asian couple on a fertility journey featuring IVF, DEIVF, and loss would start honest conversations among our communities about dealing with fertility issues, exploring alternate paths to parenthood, and living with loss. My aim was for these conversations to educate our communities and encourage them to be more supportive instead of allowing their fears to control their reactions and feelings. When someone messaged me to say that watching the series with her mum empowered her to open up about her own experiences, I felt humbled that our story could affect hers in such a positive way.

Not everyone wants to share their fertility struggles with family and friends, but for those who do and feel silenced by the stigma within our communities, I hope that reading about mine gives them the strength to speak out. Ultimately, I would like them to know that they are not alone. Far from it.

Although our IVF was unsuccessful, we did go on to become parents. Shortly after our miscarriage, I discovered that we had somehow conceived naturally. Following a straightforward pregnancy, our beautiful daughter was born in Berlin in summer 2022.

About the author:

Seetal Savla is freelance writer and fertility patient advocate. Having experienced multiple failed IVFs and losses before becoming mum to a daughter, she is passionate about sharing her story to support others on a similar journey and reduce the stigma surrounding fertility issues in South Asian communities.

You can follow Seetal on Instagram or LinkedIn.

Disclaimer: The views expressed in this blog are those of the author, they do not necessarily represent the views of the HFEA.