July 20, 2026

Life comes back, brighter: Rebecca's story of fertility after breast cancer

by Rebecca Russell

Fertility Treatments & IVF

Personal Stories & Support

Pregnancy Loss

Rebecca holding her baby shortly after birth in hospital bed - pregnancy after breast cancer - WeNatal postpartum support

Some stories arrive neatly, in the order you expect. Mine did not. I have lived what feels like an entire lifetime since my breast cancer diagnosis, and looking back now, it is almost as if I underwent a quiet metamorphosis, transforming from a girl into a mother, which turned out to be the most significant role of all.

My name is Rebecca Russell. I am a British fashion editor and stylist, and I moved to Los Angeles eleven years ago with my husband, Zac. Today we have two miraculous babies, our son, Rapha, and our sweet baby girl, who joined our little tribe against a backdrop I never could have scripted. I am writing this at two months postpartum, still tender, still healing, after welcoming my daughter, Romey Alicia, on 26 March 2026.

I wanted to share this because when I was in the depths of it, I searched for stories like mine and struggled to find them. If you are somewhere in this journey right now, whether you are facing a diagnosis, sitting in a fertility clinic, grieving a loss, or trying to imagine a future that feels uncertain, I hope my story offers you a glimmer of what carried me through: the belief that life comes back, even brighter than before.

What I was told about my fertility after breast cancer

When I was diagnosed at age 31, I met with an entire oncology team about a week later. I still remember it as a three-hour appointment, most of it spent discussing surgery and treatment recommendations. There was really only one vivid moment I cried, and it was when my oncologist told me I might have to delay having children because of the treatment I would need.

Zac and I had already been together for a decade and married for a few years. We were starting to imagine children soon, so I detested the idea that my diagnosis was suddenly dictating my future. It was a sobering moment. It felt much heavier than I had realized it would.

If you are hearing something similar right now, please know this. Being told that treatment may affect your fertility is not the same as being told you will never become a parent. Leading oncology guidance actually recommends that your care team talk with you about fertility as early as possible, ideally before treatment begins, and connect you with a reproductive specialist so you can understand your options. That conversation is your right, and it is worth asking for.

How a diagnosis reshapes the way you think about having children

In the beginning, my perspective shifted dramatically into a cycle of confusion, guilt, and self-doubt. I had so many questions. Why me? Why now? It just felt horribly unfair.

I think that is the part people do not always understand about fertility after cancer. The fear is not only medical. It is emotional and existential. You are grieving the timeline you assumed you had, while also trying to stay hopeful about the one that might still be possible.

What I did not fully appreciate then, and what emerging research now reflects, is that pregnancy after breast cancer is more possible for many women than it once seemed. Studies looking at women who paused certain treatments to try to conceive have offered encouraging, though carefully individualized, findings. None of that replaces a conversation with your own team, but it gave me language for something I felt intuitively: my story was not over.

IVF in 2024: the part no one really prepares you for

In 2024, we went through IVF, and I will be honest with you, because I think honesty helps more than a tidy version ever could. For me, the whole process felt soul-crushing. It was demoralizing and scary, such a numbers game, and it had a way of sending me into a frenzy. There was money spent, hope stretched thin, and a lingering anger I am still working through.

I share that not to frighten anyone who is about to begin IVF, because it is a path that brings countless babies into the world and it may be exactly right for you. I share it because I wished someone had told me that it was allowed to be that hard. You are permitted to grieve the difficulty of it, even while you are grateful for the option.

For so long during my illness, the follow-up appointments, and the years that followed, I was constantly surrounded by medicalized recommendations. You tend to trust and believe everything the doctors say, especially when you are young and in unfamiliar territory and everything feels overwhelming. I trusted the system completely. It was only later that I began to also trust myself.

Grief upon grief: miscarriage and losing my mother

There was a season when loss seemed to arrive in waves. I experienced a miscarriage, and not long after, I lost my mother, who was also my best friend. She passed in May 2025.

I moved through that time the only way I knew how, which was with as much grace and understanding as I could hold. In my heart, I came to believe that that baby was simply never meant to be, and that the reason was because I was meant to return home to the UK to spend my mother's final weeks beside her. I would not trade that time for anything.

Grief taught me things I could not have learned any other way. It taught me that time truly is a healer, that perseverance matters, and that you have to keep the faith even when faith feels far away. It taught me to respect my body and my heart, and to let both of them rest.

If you are carrying more than one grief at once right now, please be gentle with yourself. There is no correct order for these things, and there is no timeline that makes them lighter. What helped me most was my mind, my husband, my sister, and the friends who have become family over the years, along with the vibrant community we have built in Los Angeles. Your village does not have to be large. It only has to be yours.

Conceiving naturally after IVF: the greatest gift

Here is the part that still leaves me in a state of quiet bewilderment. After IVF did not bring us our baby, my cycle returned, and we conceived naturally.

We conceived Romey while we were staying in my mother's house last summer, in the months after she passed. I cannot fully explain it, and I am not sure I need to. It felt as though my mother sent me my baby girl. It was the greatest gift of all.

For a long time, I had trusted the medical system to hold every answer. When I began to also trust my own body and my own instincts, and I took my fertility into my own hands, something shifted. I want to be careful here, because natural conception after IVF is not a promise anyone can make, and fertility is influenced by so many factors that live outside our control. But for me, that experience was profoundly empowering, and I will be forever grateful for it.

I do not share this to suggest that anyone should step away from medical care. I share it because reclaiming a sense of agency, in whatever form that takes for you, can be its own kind of medicine.

How I supported my body through it all

When people ask what role nutrition, supplements, and lifestyle played in my journey, my honest answer is that it was huge, and that I was naive about how much it would matter before I started. So I educated myself, with the help and support of good friends, and I slowly changed how I cared for myself.

I want to be clear that none of these were magic. They did not guarantee anything, and they were never a substitute for my medical care. They were simply the ways I chose to show up for my own body with love and respect. Here is what became meaningful for me:

I stopped drinking alcohol. At the start of 2024, I made a significant lifestyle decision and stopped drinking. I have not had any for two and a half years now, which still mind-blows me after enjoying it for more than twenty years. Reducing or removing alcohol is a change often discussed in preconception care, and for me the shift in my mental state was drastic and worth it.
I opened myself to more holistic care. I shifted my overall approach and lifestyle, worked with practitioners I trusted, and paid closer attention to how I was living day to day.
Acupuncture became my saving grace. I had no idea how helpful it would be. Research on acupuncture and fertility is still mixed, so I think of it best as one supportive, calming practice among many, rather than a treatment. For me, it was a place of steadiness.
Pilates became my go-to. It has been incredibly beneficial, not only physically but for my mental health, and it is the one form of movement I have genuinely stuck with.
I adjusted my nutrition. I limited gluten and sugar, leaned into foods that nourished me, and became far more intentional about what I was putting into my body.
I introduced supplements I had not previously considered, including WeNatal, which I had alongside me this time in a way I did not the first time around.

If there is one theme running through all of it, it is that I stopped treating my body like a problem to be managed and started treating it like something worthy of care.

The emotional side of trying again

After everything, trying again felt different than I expected. Honestly, it felt exciting, and I felt prepared. Part of me probably wanted the distraction from grieving my best friend. But more than that, I somehow felt my mum's strength behind me the entire time, which made me more hopeful and far less alone.

Fear, hope, and trust all show up differently when you have been through loss. This time, it helped to feel like I had support in my corner, both the seen kind and the unseen kind. My mum's spirit felt like it was guiding me, and having a routine I believed in made the waiting feel less like helplessness and more like preparation.

Where I am now: postpartum without my mother

I will not pretend this postpartum has been easy, because it has not. I have struggled, and I think it is mainly because my mum is not here this time. That reality has been both sobering and, at moments, terrifying. How do I navigate postpartum as a new mother without the mother who brought me here in the first place? It does not seem natural, and some days it does not feel survivable, even though I know it is.

If you are in a postpartum season that is heavier than the picture-perfect version, whether because of grief, a hard birth, or simply the enormous weight of it all, I want you to hear that you are not doing it wrong. Postpartum is a genuine recovery period, physically and emotionally, and this is a moment to lean on your people and your providers rather than carry it silently.

For me, gratitude and grief live side by side right now. I hold more gratitude over my resilient body than ever before. I am so proud of what it has overcome and women's bodies truly are remarkable.

What I would tell a woman navigating fertility after cancer

If I could sit across from a woman who has just been diagnosed and is frightened about her future fertility, this is what I would say to her.

There is always a glimmer of hope, and a light at the end of the tunnel. The journey ahead may be arduous, but the intensity of the fear does fluctuate, and it does soften.
Keep talking to your community. Surround yourself with love. Reach out to others who have walked this path, including me. You are never as alone as the fear tells you that you are.
Ask the questions early. I wish I had known more sooner. Ask your team about fertility before treatment when you can, and do not be afraid to advocate for yourself.
Trust builds slowly, and that is okay. You can trust your medical team and also learn to trust your own body and instincts. Both can be true.
Life comes back. That is the thing I most wish someone had told me. Life comes back, even brighter than before.

Redefining hope and family

This journey reshaped my definition of hope. To me, hope now looks like creative adaptability, the willingness to pivot and find alternative routes when the original plan falls apart, and the choice to stay proactive and focused on the goal even when the path is unclear.

This little girl means everything. She completes our family, and I see my mum in her far more than I ever expected to. When I think about how much it took to bring both of my children here, the ordinary moments do not feel ordinary at all.

Closing reflection

If I could leave one message for someone in the depths of this journey, it would be this. Do not be afraid to discuss it openly. So many more people have experienced cancer, infertility, and grief than you realize, and speaking about it out loud lightens the weight. The ride ahead is uncertain and intimidating, but as the fear diminishes, your heart flutters with a greater appreciation of life than you had before.

With love,

Rebecca

Frequently asked questions about fertility after breast cancer

Can you get pregnant after breast cancer?

For many women, yes. Whether and how you can conceive after breast cancer depends on your specific diagnosis, treatment, age, and overall health. Emerging research and major oncology guidelines increasingly support that pregnancy after breast cancer is possible for many women when guided by their oncology and fertility team. Your care team is the best source of personalized guidance.

Does breast cancer treatment affect fertility?

It can, depending on the type of treatment. Some therapies may temporarily or permanently affect fertility, which is why leading guidelines recommend that providers discuss fertility risks and preservation options as early as possible, ideally before treatment begins. Asking your team about this early gives you the most options.

Is it possible to conceive naturally after IVF?

Some people do conceive naturally after unsuccessful IVF, as Rebecca did, though this is not a guaranteed or predictable outcome, and fertility is influenced by many factors. IVF and natural conception are not mutually exclusive paths, and your provider can help you understand what is realistic for your situation.

How can you support your body while trying to conceive after cancer?

Foundational health habits are a supportive part of the larger picture. These often include a nutrient-dense diet, reducing or removing alcohol, gentle movement, stress-reducing practices, quality sleep, and a thoughtfully formulated prenatal that helps fill nutrient gaps. None of these guarantee pregnancy, and they work best alongside personalized medical care.

When should you talk to a provider about fertility after cancer?

As early as possible, ideally at the time of diagnosis and before starting treatment, and again when you are ready to try to conceive. If you have already completed treatment, a preconception visit with your oncology and fertility team can help you understand your options and next steps.

What nutrients matter most during preconception and postpartum?

Nutrients frequently emphasized during preconception and postpartum include folate, iron, choline, omega-3 DHA, vitamin D, and adequate protein, because they support the body during conception, pregnancy, and recovery. Because needs are individual, especially after cancer treatment, talk with your provider about what is right for you.

A note from WeNatal on fertility after breast cancer

Rebecca's story holds so much at once: fear and faith, grief and gratitude, medicine and intuition. That is exactly what fertility after cancer often looks like, and it is why we believe stories like hers matter so deeply.

At WeNatal, we believe fertility and pregnancy care should be proactive, supportive, and nourishing, not something you only think about once depletion or worry has already set in. We also believe every person deserves to feel seen and supported exactly where they are, whether you are facing a diagnosis, navigating treatment, trying to conceive, healing after loss, or moving through a tender postpartum season.

We are careful never to promise outcomes, because no supplement, food, or routine can do that, and fertility is shaped by far more than any single choice. What we can offer is thoughtful nutrient support to help fill the gaps that diet alone often cannot, formulated for both partners, so that you can care for your whole-body health as you move through this journey. WeNatal for Her and WeNatal for Him were designed for exactly these seasons, and WeNatal Iron+ offers gentle iron with vitamin C for the increased demands of pregnancy and postpartum replenishment.

More than any product, though, what makes WeNatal special is the community and the shared stories that remind us none of us walks this path alone. If Rebecca's words resonated with you, please know that your story matters too. Your hope matters. And we are here beside you, every step of the way, as you move from me to we.

Explore WeNatal for Her and WeNatal Together to support your whole-body health through every season of your fertility journey. If you are early in your path, start with our free preconception guide.

References

Partridge AH, Niman SM, Ruggeri M, et al. Interrupting Endocrine Therapy to Attempt Pregnancy after Breast Cancer. N Engl J Med. 2023;388(18):1645-1656. doi:10.1056/NEJMoa2212856

Ronan KE, Walshe JM. Achieving Pregnancy After Early Hormone Receptor-Positive Breast Cancer: Recent Evidence and Clinical Considerations. Cancers (Basel). 2026;18(2):348. Published 2026 Jan 22. doi:10.3390/cancers18020348

Su HI, Lacchetti C, Letourneau J, et al. Fertility Preservation in People With Cancer: ASCO Guideline Update. J Clin Oncol. 2025;43(12):1488-1515. doi:10.1200/JCO-24-02782

Rebecca Russell

Rebecca Russell is a British fashion editor and stylist based in Los Angeles, where she lives with her husband, Zac, and their two children. After a breast cancer diagnosis at 31, Rebecca navigated IVF, pregnancy loss, and the death of her mother before welcoming her daughter, Romey Alicia, in March 2026. She shares her story to remind other women navigating fertility after cancer that they are never alone, and that life comes back, even brighter than before. You can find her on Instagram at @rebecca.russell_.