Parenthood often begins long before the arrival of a child—it can be a journey of hope, perseverance, and resilience. At Kietzee, we know that every fertility story is unique, shaped by challenges, triumphs, and the unwavering courage to keep going.
This is why we decided to share stories from our community to inspire, inform, and empower others walking a similar road.
So whether you’ve navigated fertility treatments, faced unexpected hurdles, or embraced alternative paths to parenthood, you will find parts of your experiences reflected in these stories. Join us as we listen, learn, and celebrate the strength of our community.
Today, we hear from expat parent and advocate Seetal Savla, who is a 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. Originally from the UK, she has been calling Germany (and Berlin specifically) home since late 2020.
Fertility and loss are two topics that are not often (enough) talked about. What has your journey been like in regards to fertility and loss?
Starting in 2015, our fertility journey spanned six years and included an early pregnancy loss and four failed fresh IVF cycles before we turned to donor egg IVF in the UK. Our first attempt was cancelled after 15 unviable eggs were collected.
I finally got pregnant on our second cycle, but suffered a missed miscarriage. Shortly after this loss, we conceived naturally (it still feels surreal!) and welcomed our amazing daughter in 2022.
How did you communicate with friends, family and others about the topic of fertility and loss?
At first, we only told our close family and friends about our fertility struggles. Having to come to terms with an early pregnancy loss then immediately referred for IVF was very overwhelming, so I simply shared the facts, not my feelings.
Looking back, I blamed myself for many things - the loss, my low ovarian reserve, my decision to postpone trying for a baby, the failed IVFs - and felt ashamed because my body couldn’t do what I wanted it to do. In spite of all the support I had, I sometimes felt incredibly lonely back then.
The second loss was a completely different experience because I had been documenting the highs and lows of that pregnancy online as part of my advocacy work.
My openness meant that many people were invested in our journey and wishing for a positive outcome for us. Having to break the bad news to them made me feel guilty; I had become a symbol of hope for those who were struggling to conceive and now I felt like I was letting them all down. I knew I hadn’t caused the miscarriage, but I still felt like a failure in my eyes, and in theirs.
The lovely messages of support held me as I navigated my way through the dark days of raw grief and reminded me that there’s so much kindness in the world.
What inspired you to share your story publicly?
Even with a supportive husband, family and close friends, I still felt abnormal and alone during the first 2-3 years of my fertility journey. I can’t remember now how I discovered the TTC (Trying to Conceive) community on Instagram, but I’m forever grateful that I did. Reading similar stories and hearing podcast interviews with patient advocates made me feel validated and understood.
Here are some of the many accounts that I found helpful, and still do:
Amber Izzo (infertility, IVF and post-IVF life)
Big Fat Negative (IVF podcast and book)
Defining Mum (IVF, loss and donor conception)
Dr Michelle Tolfrey (loss and grief)
Dr Shema Tariq (IVF, loss, donor conception and pregnancy after loss)
Maybehood (IVF, loss and donor conception)
Mind Body Revival Coach (IVF, loss and being childless-not-by-choice)
Parenthood in Mind (TTC, postpartum and parenthood support)
The Childless Collective (IVF, loss and being childless-not-by-choice)
Vanessa Haye (TTC and loss)
When did you decide to share your story?
Following a wellness retreat I attended in 2018, I decided to write about my own experiences up to that date - an early pregnancy loss and two failed IVF cycles. My aim was to describe all the complex emotions that had built up to process them, release them and then delete the document.
But once my husband had read my words, he suggested that I share them publicly. He told me about an Indian friend of his who had undergone IVF with his wife and hadn’t confided in anyone, not even his parents. Given the stigma and shame surrounding fertility issues in South Asian communities, I imagined that he wasn’t the only one suffering in silence.
On Mother’s Day 2019, I published my story on my blog in the hope that my voice would make others feel seen and heard, particularly people from my community. While there were a few South Asian advocates speaking openly at that time, we were still very much in the minority.
I also hoped my honesty would help to start more compassionate conversations about the realities of struggling to start a family and bring us one step closer to normalising them.
What advice would you give to couples who are struggling with fertility issues?
First and foremost, I would advise them both to be kind to themselves and each other.
Regardless of the diagnosis, the female partner is likely to undergo the most treatment, which can lead to feelings of guilt, helplessness and resentment.
Open communication is essential to ensure that the relationship doesn’t suffer in the short- or long-term. Ultimately, no-one is to blame because fertility issues are medical issues.
Self-advocacy is also an important aspect of this journey. Some patients may feel like they can’t challenge medical advice or ask questions for fear of looking silly, but they absolutely have the right to speak up if they are unsure about anything. A good consultant will be more than happy to listen to their patients and reassure them.
Similarly, if couples aren’t satisfied with their clinic for whatever reason, they shouldn’t feel bad about finding one that’s a better fit for them. I felt like my fertility journey was controlling me at first, but after two cycles, I became more familiar with the process and took back control by embracing the experience and switching clinics.
Lastly, I wish I had known at the outset just how much support was available. From online groups and live events to books and podcasts, there’s something for everyone. For those who can’t or don’t want to lean on family and friends, these resources are a lifeline. I have also greatly benefited from therapy, but I appreciate that it may not be financially accessible for all.
Could you share any cultural or societal differences you've noticed in how fertility challenges are approached in different countries?
I underwent all of my IVF cycles in London, so I’ve never been a fertility patient in Germany or elsewhere. However, I know that egg donation and surrogacy are against the law here, which I find very disappointing, especially when you consider that sperm donation is legal.
This restriction is due to the Embryo Protection Act, which was passed in 1991 and states that women can only give birth to their biological children. We did briefly think about transferring our frozen embryos from London to Berlin, but since they were created using an egg donor, this was impossible.
According to the IVF Register Germany, Berlin has 12 fertility clinics, so IVF is definitely a popular path to parenthood here. That said, I don’t see them advertised as openly as in London.
Also, I get the impression that Germans tend to be guarded about their personal lives, meaning they may not want to divulge the fact that they’re facing fertility issues or have used IVF to conceive.
Speaking of keeping fertility challenges private, this is certainly the case in India. Although more well-known personalities are sharing how they grew their families thanks to IVF, adoption, donor conception or surrogacy, these subjects are still very much taboo.
Male factor infertility is also another topic that is rarely discussed, in India and the diaspora but also elsewhere. Even when it has been identified as the cause of a couple’s struggle to conceive, people may continue to point the finger at the woman (we can thank the patriarchy for that!).
But hopefully every article, film, book or podcast that covers these topics leads to more understanding, compassionate conversations and support.