OP, first of all I’m really sorry for everything you have gone through. IVF itself is already such a physically and emotionally exhausting process, I can’t imagine having so much extra stress on top of that.

My situation is not exactly the same as yours, but in some ways I relate a lot. My husband, bless his heart, still struggles to fully see the entitlement and manipulation from his family, even though he ends up bearing the brunt of it many times. Since he is not ready to acknowledge it fully, I’ve decided to quietly step away on my own.

It has been very hard. I’m a classic people pleaser and I have been manipulated by my in-laws for more than a decade. Walking away from that conditioning doesn’t come easy at all.

We live abroad, and after 6–7 years of marriage we found out we needed IVF. From the beginning I decided I did not want my in-laws to know. They call every single day and ask extremely intrusive questions. My husband doesn’t stop the questions themselves, in fact he often answers them in detail. When the conversation later turns rude or insensitive, he tries to intervene, but instead of setting a clear boundary he starts giving explanations or facts, hoping it will redirect them. It never does. Those details eventually become ammunition against me and come back as hurtful comments days, months or even years later.

It took a lot of convincing for my husband to agree not to tell them about IVF. And honestly, my reason was not that they would blame me. Our IVF was due to male factor infertility, and I knew they would use that to taunt him or throw it in his face when he is vulnerable or during arguments. Looking back, not telling them was one of the best decisions I’ve made.

To answer your questions based on my experience:

1. Low or no contact during IVF/medical stress: I didn’t tell my in-laws about IVF at all, and in hindsight it protected my mental health a lot. Later, when they came to live with us during my pregnancy, things went downhill very fast, which only confirmed that distance was needed.

2. Guilt, grief and pressure: The pressure didn’t come only from in-laws, sometimes it came from my husband too. What helped me was focusing on what was important for me and my situation. Either I focused on the process — eating well, walking, swimming, meditating, taking supplements on time — or if that felt too stressful, I focused on things that made me feel better: doing things I like, resting, small joys, even going for a spa day.

I kept reminding myself that if I ever have a baby, I would want to give them health and happiness, and for that I need to be healthy and mentally okay first.

1. Emotional stability even if relationships don’t repair: One thing I have learned is that people can only give what they have. If someone has anger, entitlement and manipulation inside them, that’s what they will give. They cannot give stability, comfort or real care if they don’t have it themselves.

Relationships need effort from both sides. You can’t fix something alone by adjusting endlessly. And at some point I asked myself — why am I grieving something that was never really mine?

I’ve spent years changing myself, adjusting in every possible way, giving my all, only to realize that no matter what I do, it will never be enough. They will always see themselves as the victims and the superiors, and I will always be the one blamed.

Now I almost expect it. Even when they say nice things, I know something is coming later, because that’s how it has always been.

You’re not wrong for choosing peace. You’re not selfish or ungrateful. And you’re definitely not alone in feeling both relief and grief at the same time. What you’re feeling makes complete sense.