Ashtanga Yoga and IVF

From my early twenties, I knew that due to my pituitary gland dysfunction, conceiving would require medical intervention. When my now-husband and I got engaged in my early thirties, we immediately began IVF treatments. We started in 2016 and didn't know it would take us 7 years, 3 countries (Belgium, UK, and finally Korea), 11 transfers and 3 miscarriages to finally have a ‘miracle’ baby in our arms. It took us tremendous time, effort, anticipation, frustration, and all kind of emotional ups and downs that I can't really describe in words. I don’t think I was ever committed to achieve something for so long and so hard.

For those 7 years, my life had been entirely focused on IVF treatments. I quit my job, tried to eat clean, yet faced repeated failures. The clinical indifference of medical staff and unintended weight gain caused by the medication didn't also help with my emotional stability. I didn't feel I owned my body and soul. The expression I often used to describe myself was ‘a lab pig’. Trying to grasp the meaning of letting go and not expecting the fruit of my actions. How can you not expect to have a baby after going through countless and such invasive procedures with so much physical and mental pain. It was a real dilemma and was tremendously frustrating every time it failed.

But as time passed, going through IVF treatments became, for me, a true form of 'yoga practice' —not the yoga of physical postures, but the yoga of mastering the mind. Whenever it failed, I was somehow quickly up again and was ready to try for another round. The combination of my daily pre-dawn asana practice and the unpredictable outcomes of IVF treatments taught me how to wisely accept repeated failures. It also cultivated resilience—the strength to keep challenging an uncertain future where results were never guaranteed. This journey taught me to just go on whether the faith was clear or faded along the way. And this mindset was slowly being applied to my asana practice and to other life challenges.

Throughout the whole pregnancy, I had been very cautious and was afraid of possible adversities but at the same time I felt forever grateful that this new life had finally come to us. I trusted our baby with all my heart and he finally came to us. Staying on this long and painful path was possible thanks to all the loving support from my husband, family, friends, teachers and medical teams. What a great journey it had been and I am excited and thankful to live my remaining life as his mother.

Below is how I practised asanas during IVF treatments and pregnancy. It was written while pregnant.

During my fertility treatments, I adapted my asana practice in various ways. For example, I would lower the intensity of my practice or stop altogether during ovarian stimulation while on hormone injections. After embryo transfers, I would either practise very gently or not at all. This time, during the successful round of ovarian stimulation, I replaced my usual Ashtanga practice with gentle yoga and went jogging every morning. After the embryo transfer, I avoided yoga entirely and only walked.

I didn’t return to my Mysore practice until around 15-16 weeks. At 12 weeks, I moved back from Korea to the UK and spent four weeks at home healing with my husband and our cat, Kumi, before returning to the shala. Those without prior pregnancy complications or miscarriages can usually resume yoga practice at 12 weeks. But given my difficult history, I wanted to be extra cautious and waited until 16 weeks when the placenta is more stable. However, since I had decided against cycling, getting to the shala required taking multiple buses, and the earliest direct bus was at 6:30 AM—a time when the shala was crowded, making it hard to practise in the stuffy air. So I didn’t go every day, opting instead for light home practice when needed.

To detail my practice: After back-to-back ovarian stimulations and frozen embryo transfers last September, I couldn’t resume my usual asana practice. The biggest reason was the drastic drop in my stamina from two rounds of stimulations, and during the second round, the growth hormone injections caused rapid weight gain and swelling. Oddly, I even experienced ovarian pain for the first time in my life. So when I returned to the shala, I stuck to Primary Series, relying heavily on insights from my Brussels shala eacher Lynne’s "Ashtanga Yoga During Pregnancy" workshop and the book Yoga Sadhana for Mothers. Lynne’s trimester-specific asana modifications were especially helpful, though in truth, once pregnant, you instinctively learn how to protect your baby while moving. Louise, my London shala teacher, also gave invaluable tips that I still use.

I practised in London from weeks 16 to 23, took a 3-week break after moving to Beijing, and resumed at 26 weeks. Beijing teachers immediately adjusted my Downward Dog (Adho Mukha Svanasana) to a more breathable version—a magical touch! As my belly grew, I stopped grabbing my toes in many poses, and by 30-31 weeks, I skipped most finishing poses except for gentle forward folds and Matsyasana/Uttana Padasana, as breathlessness became frequent. Instead, I focused on sitting tall with an open chest. Oddly, standing poses grew exhausting, so I sped through them and spent more time in seated asanas. Around 29-30 weeks, I had frequent Braxton Hicks during standing poses, but propping myself sideways on a bolster helped. Pregnancy brings unexpected bodily reactions, so I prioritise calming my mind and breath.

On Instagram, I see other pregnant Ashtangis maintaining advanced practices, which reminds me: Asana must adapt to each person’s body and circumstances. For a fleeting moment, I wondered, Why is my stamina so much weaker? Why do so many poses feel hard? But mostly, I’m just grateful to move safely each day with my little Yeti*. With all this daily practice, will my baby be born a zen yogi? :-)

*Yeti was an affectionate foetal name(taemyeong in Korean) of our boy that was chosen by my husband. While researching whether the concept of a taemyeong existed abroad, I discovered that babies conceived via frozen embryos are often given winter-themed names like Elsa or Snowflake—words evoking cold. When I explainedd this to my husband, he immediately suggested "Yeti", the legendary/fictional himalayan creature. Given our due date in November, right as winter begins, his naming sense is absolutely brilliant!

Below is my journey through infertility and lifestyle changes. This was originally written in Korean in January 2021.

Over the past five years, I underwent 4 IVF cycles. Each time, despite producing many follicles, very few eggs fertilised—only two ever reached blastocyst stage. One cycle yielded no embryos at all, and another landed me in the hospital with severe hormonal hypersensitivity.

After the fourth failed cycle, I realised I couldn’t passively rely on doctors anymore. At 35—the threshold for "advanced maternal age" in Korea—I felt a new urgency. That’s when I remembered It Starts with the Egg, a book about egg quality I’d seen years earlier but dismissed, assuming it would offer generic advice. To my surprise, author Rebecca Fett (a molecular biologist) presented evidence-based strategies tailored to specific infertility causes—low vitamin D, PCOS, thyroid issues, recurrent miscarriage—backed by clinical studies.

The Overhaul

I immediately:

• Purged toxins: Tossed plastic containers, scented hygiene products, and non-stick pans (phthalates and BPA disrupt hormones).

• Adopted a strict diet: No caffeine, dairy, gluten, or refined carbs; high-protein Mediterranean meals with wild-caught fish, quinoa, and olive oil. Sugar was limited—even fruit (berries only, max two servings/day).

• Started supplements:

  • Methylfolate (not synthetic folic acid) to lower homocysteine, linked to miscarriage.

  • Ubiquinol (CoQ10) for egg quality (critical for women over 35).

  • Vitamin D (4,000–5,000 IU initially) to support implantation.

  • Myo-inositol for insulin resistance (I had mild PCOS traits).

  • Antioxidants (vitamins C/E, alpha-lipoic acid) until egg retrieval.

(DHEA and melatonin, proven helpful but prescription-only in the UK, were exceptions.)

The Struggle

Quitting gluten was hardest—goodbye, pasta and snacks!—but within weeks, cravings faded. My husband joined me, swapping nightly whiskey for vitamins (L-carnitine, omega-3s for sperm health).

Hard Truths

Reading the book, I realised how naively I’d approached treatment before. While lifestyle changes aren’t magic, they’ve given me agency. This year, whether IVF succeeds or not, I’ll know I did everything possible.