I don’t have a dramatic tale of infertility, but my experience is deeply personal. You might not have realized that I faced challenges conceiving, especially since I now have twins. Some of you may have pondered—was it a surprise? Do twins run in your family? Did you know you were having twins?
My journey isn’t filled with years of trying or multiple miscarriages. It’s straightforward: I had one child without issue, then faced difficulties trying to conceive again. After consulting with several specialists, undergoing numerous medications that altered my mood and body, and experiencing six unsuccessful intrauterine inseminations (IUIs), I learned that my egg quality was poor. This led us to in vitro fertilization (IVF), where eggs are fertilized outside the body, and the healthiest embryos are then implanted.
During this tumultuous time, I chose not to share my struggles. It wasn’t shame that held me back, but rather the fear of pity and the incessant questions that would come with it. I didn’t want my story to become a source of discomfort for my friends or a topic for every conversation. I was also apprehensive about unsolicited advice like, “You’ll conceive when you’re not trying” or “It’s all part of God’s plan.”
When we decided to pursue IVF, I understood the potential for controversy. I preferred to keep my circle intact rather than risk losing friends over differing views. Eventually, I stopped talking about it altogether because my story had become entwined with my children’s lives, and I wanted to respect their beginnings.
Now, I embrace my experience. I want my children to know they were wanted and cherished long before they arrived. IVF was an arduous process, emotionally, physically, and financially draining. As we prepared, I often felt overwhelmed, knowing that this was our last chance.
In a moment of vulnerability, I found a bracelet that read, “The Lord will fight for you. You need only be still.” I wore it throughout my IVF treatment, holding onto that hope. As the process unfolded, my body didn’t respond as expected. After a series of challenges and near-failures, I was elated when nine eggs were retrieved and subsequently fertilized.
We transferred two embryos into my uterus, hoping for a healthy pregnancy. The goal was a single baby, but I loved those embryos from the moment I learned of them. When the first positive pregnancy test appeared, disbelief washed over me. I had seen numerous negatives before this, and when I knelt in gratitude, I felt an overwhelming sense of peace.
At my first ultrasound, we discovered two babies but only one heartbeat. I remained calm, confident that the second heartbeat would appear in our next visit. However, the following week, we learned that one embryo had split, resulting in triplets, a situation fraught with risks. Unfortunately, one of those embryos did not survive, leading me to experience a profound sense of loss.
Today, we have three healthy boys and four frozen embryos. I love them all, but I do not consider the frozen embryos to be alive. They are potential lives that require nurturing to develop fully. However, I do not believe they possess the same rights as my living children.
The proposed “personhood” bill poses a significant threat to families like mine. While proponents may claim it’s merely about abortion, the implications extend far beyond that. If passed, this legislation could render IVF practically unattainable. IVF is a complex, expensive process. Couples do not jump straight into it; they often aim to produce the highest number of viable eggs in a single cycle. The personhood bill argues that life begins at fertilization, which means any complications in the IVF process could lead to criminal liability for doctors, patients, or clinics.
What happens if an embryo fails to develop normally? Will IUIs be criminalized due to their inherent risk of miscarriage? Will women with uterine issues be barred from attempting pregnancy? What about ectopic pregnancies? Will treatment be denied in favor of an embryo’s legal rights? And what of the frozen embryos? Will I have the right to try and transfer them, or will I face legal repercussions?
While I don’t expect this bill to pass, its introduction is infuriating. Supporting it means opposing the very means that allowed my children to be born. If you stand behind the personhood bill, you cannot be my friend.
As for our frozen embryos, we are still deliberating their fate. Our hope is to give them a chance at life, whether that means transferring them or finding families willing to adopt them. Regardless, they are not lives in the same sense as my children, and it’s important to recognize that distinction.
For those navigating similar journeys, it’s essential to seek out reliable resources. Websites like Make a Mom provide valuable insights, and WebMD is an excellent resource for understanding your options.
In summary, the personhood bill threatens not just the future of IVF but also the hopes and dreams of countless families. It is crucial to understand the implications of such legislation and advocate for the rights of all families to grow in the ways they choose.