What to Do (and What Not to Do) While Trying to Get Pregnant

(From someone who’s been in the messy middle)

Trying to conceive (TTC) is one of those seasons of life that no one fully prepares you for. It can be exciting, overwhelming, stressful, joyful, hopeful, frustrating, sorrowful, anxiety-inducing… sometimes all on the same day.

What I don’t want this post to be is a “Here’s what I did and you should too” kind of thing. Hard pass. This is more like a best friend pulling up a chair beside you, handing you a cozy blanket and a warm drink, and saying:

“Hey. I’ve been there. It’s hard. You’re not alone.”

The truth is: TTC can feel isolating, even when you’re surrounded by people who love you. Event if you already have little ones in your life. My experience is within a heterosexual relationship, but I truly believe many of these ideas apply no matter what your family structure looks like. And if you’ve been through this season in a different way, I’d genuinely love to hear what helped you. Your story matters, too.

Here are the things I personally recommend doing - and not doing - while trying to get pregnant.

Do: Date your partner. For real.

When sex becomes a box to check on your fertility app (pun fully intended), it’s wild how unsexy it suddenly becomes. I used to obsessively track every phase of my cycle, staring down that “magic window” like it owed me something. There were months we couldn’t even make it happen because the pressure to make it happen was so intense.

So go on dates. Have fun together. Remember why you wanted to start a family with this person in the first place.

If you need date inspo, I’ve got you:
Fun and creative date ideas: https://www.meredithmckee.com/blog/fun-and-creative-date-night-ideas-that-arent-just-dinner-and-drinks

Do: Track your cycle (but don’t let it consume you).

Like many of us, I grew up believing that if you so much as made eye contact with a penis, you’d get pregnant and die. (LOL)

So imagine my shock when I learned how hard it can actually be to get pregnant, and how tiny the fertile window really is. I highly recommend reading Taking Charge of Your Fertility by Toni Weschler. It helped me understand my body in a way I honestly should have learned as a teenager.
https://www.tcoyf.com/

But a gentle reminder from someone who learned the hard way: Don’t let tracking take over your entire emotional life. Information is empowering - obsession is exhausting.

Do: Practice mindfulness (you’re carrying enough already).

Stress reduction during TTC isn’t about “just relax and you’ll get pregnant!” (If anyone says that to you… I give you full permission to mentally launch them into the sun.)

For me, mindfulness was about staying grounded in a season when everything felt unpredictable. I leaned into meditation, gratitude journaling, and acupuncture. Here’s more on that if you’re curious:
https://www.meredithmckee.com/blog/my-experience-with-acupuncture-during-ttc-ivf-and-pregnancy

And truly - the Expectful App became one of my favorite companions through TTC, IVF, pregnancy, and now motherhood. Highly recommend.

Do: Talk to friends who can hold space - not just give advice.

Advice will come at you FAST. Everyone has an opinion, a tip, or a cousin’s-friend’s-sister’s miracle story. It can get overwhelming quickly.

Figure out who in your circle you can be honest with, who can carry some of the emotional weight with you… and tune out the rest. At the same time, don’t feel like you owe anyone your entire journey. I kept some things close to my chest, and that was okay.

Do: Prepare yourself for any timeline.

It could happen the very first month. It could take much, much longer. (Up to twelve months of trying is considered “normal.”)

I wish I had prepared my heart for that spectrum earlier - the hope, the disappointment, the reset each month. Those 19 cycles of mine were some of the longest of my life.

Do: Ask for help - medical, emotional, all of it.

My first stop was my GP. We ran initial tests, then moved to a fertility clinic. And honestly? We switched clinics when we didn’t feel supported. That was new for me - advocating for myself in medical spaces - but it was so worth it.

I also started therapy before we began trying, and that turned out to be one of the best decisions I made. She walked with me through TTC, IVF, pregnancy, and the births of both my children. If you’re on the fence about therapy… this is your sign.

And of course, Seattle Reproductive Medicine (SRM) deserves the hugest shoutout for helping us create our miracle babies!

Don’t: Blame yourself.

This one is huge. For a long time, I spiraled into supplements, acupuncture, meditation, whatever I could get my hands on. I truly believed that if I just did everything right, I could control the outcome.

But infertility is not a measure of worth, effort, or “trying hard enough.” There is nothing about this journey that is your fault.

Don’t: Let shame or silence isolate you.

When I founded Om Mama Co. in 2018, I genuinely thought I’d be pregnant right alongside all the mamas in our community. Instead, I found myself showing up month after month - not pregnant - and feeling completely alone, even in a room full of support.

But sharing my story opened doors I didn’t even know were there. I found friends who truly got it. I found conversations I desperately needed. I found my people.

And I want that for you, too.

A little more of my story…

I’ve written about our infertility journey here:
https://www.meredithmckee.com/blog/our-infertility-journey

From the calendar math (every month, without fail) to the “don’t stress!” comments to the unexpected grief cycles - I’ve lived all of it. I’ve also lived the hope. The connection. The deep appreciation for every family I get to photograph.

This season has changed me. It has softened me and strengthened me in equal measure. It has made me fiercely empathetic to every single path someone takes into parenthood.

And if you’re in that path right now, I’m cheering you on with my whole heart.

Wherever you are in your journey…

You’re not behind.
You’re not broken.
You’re not failing.

You’re human. You’re hopeful. You’re trying.
And that is enough.

If you feel called to, I’d truly love to hear what helped you during this season - whether you’re TTC with a partner, with a donor, with medical support, or on your own. No two stories look the same, and every single one deserves to be honored.

You’ve got this, friend.
I’m right here with you.

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