I want to share some personal news: after a long and winding fertility journey, I’m now six months pregnant with my second child!
My husband and I are thrilled to finally be able to have the family of four we always wanted, and to give our daughter the sibling she’s been asking for. It still doesn’t feel totally real, given everything it took to get here, but as we’re starting to make preparations I’m getting my head around the fact that the odds are now strongly in favor of this happening. It’s also a profoundly weird time to be bringing a new life into the world, which feels increasingly fractured and terrifying. I’m deeply anxious about our ability to get evidence-based care for this pregnancy and this baby, not to mention about political violence and creeping authoritarianism. But this pregnancy also feels like an act of hope for the future—or at least something that helps keep me going in moments of despair.
I’m looking forward to sharing more in the coming weeks and months, and I’d love to answer some of your questions about pregnancy and fertility—you can ask yours here. In the meantime, today I want to talk about the intersection of infertility and wellness culture, which I’ve come to know all too well.
Specifically, I want to tell you about my experience with one alternative-medicine approach for fertility: acupuncture, or more precisely laser acupuncture.
Although this piece will get into some detail about the science on acupuncture for fertility, I think it can apply to complementary and alternative approaches to fertility (and health in general) more broadly—and I’m hoping this will be helpful for anyone considering those kinds of treatments. I’ll also share a bit about my experience with conventional treatments for infertility, and with the IVF process in particular.
I also just want to say, to anyone here going through fertility struggles: I know how painful that process can be, and I’m sending you good thoughts. You’re not alone in feeling desperate for answers, or in being tempted by wellness treatments that offer hope—even if it’s ultimately false hope. Here’s a story that I hope will help you sift through the interventions that aren’t worth your time, so that you can focus on what is.
