The church I grew up in opposes IVF. Are my infertility struggles part of God’s design?

Most people in Los Angeles spend their Saturdays at the beach in the summer. I spend mine sitting on a bench outside a fertility clinic, praying to be pregnant.

It’s been almost four years since my husband, Anthony, and I started trying for a baby. Like many couples, we thought time was on our side, so we spent our 20s getting degrees and advancing our careers. Kids would happen “someday”; we assumed we’d have two or three. In the meantime, we relished becoming the fun uncle, and the cool aunt.

A few weeks after my 30th birthday, I scheduled an appointment to remove my IUD. Anthony had just turned 34. “Hopefully I’ll see you in a couple of months!” my gynecologist said before sending us off with recommendations for prenatal vitamins. Little did she know we would see her and so many other doctors frequently in the coming years, but never once for a pregnancy.

According to reproductive endocrinologists, our issue is likely egg quality — though anyone who has experienced infertility knows this is often code for “we can’t figure it out.”

Medical research for infertility is wildly underfunded despite declining fertility rates across the globe. A 2023 news release from the World Health Organization states that 17.5% of couples struggle to conceive. For some, the diagnosis is straightforward — endometriosis, blocked fallopian tubes, male factor infertility. For others, the diagnosis is unexplained, as has been the case for us.

At the beginning of 2023, after two years of failing to get pregnant on our own, Anthony and I turned to in vitro fertilization (IVF) as a last resort. Until then, the cost had made IVF seem like an impossible option: in Los Angeles, one IVF cycle can be over $25,000. Many health insurance plans don’t cover fertility treatments, including ours. But if I’ve learned anything about infertility, it’s that it will make you both desperate and willing to do whatever it takes to have a baby. For us, this has meant taking out loans, borrowing money from family and working second jobs.

Still, the bills are suffocating, especially when you’re paying for something that doesn’t always work — like at our most recent appointment when my body didn’t respond to the birth control pills (yes, birth control is, ironically, used to help regulate your ovaries), and we were forced to cancel that IVF cycle. At the clinic where we go, we pay a package fee for every egg retrieval and embryo transfer. If a cycle is canceled because my body doesn’t respond to the medication, we back pay for all my appointments and blood work, which are now a la carte services. Two 15-minute appointments ran us $1,300.

The stress and grief Anthony and I have experienced in our journey to become parents is unlike anything I could have anticipated. It’s taken a toll on our mental health, our marriage and our bodies. Yet, in recent weeks, I’ve found this stress and pain to be exacerbated by current religious debates about the ethics of IVF and reproductive assistance in the United States, especially because I grew up in the church.

Two of the churches I attended as a child belong to the Southern Baptist Convention (SBC), which recently voted against the use of assisted reproductive technology. Their biggest concern is embryo banking — the creating and freezing of multiple embryos — since they believe embryos are human beings.

The report advocates “for the government to restrain actions inconsistent with the dignity and value of every human being, which necessarily includes frozen embryonic human beings.” It also emphasizes adherence to what the SBC perceives as “natural” reproductive methods, viewing IVF as an artificial intervention in God’s design. I have to wonder, though: Was it God’s design for my husband and me to have difficulty conceiving?

While I no longer belong to any church or believe in the doctrines of the SBC, I feel overwhelmed and devastated for congregants who’ve used IVF to have their babies, or those who are in the throes of infertility. They must now wrestle with ethics and possible shaming from pastors and other church members, especially if they currently have frozen embryos waiting to be transferred. And with more than 13 million members, the SBC does not exist in a silo; its opinions hold weight, especially on the political stage. A day after the report, Senate Republicans blocked a bill that would have protected IVF access across the nation.

I wish my two frozen embryos were human babies; I really do. But the statistics don’t favor this wish. A 2018 study conducted by Reproductive Medicine Associates and presented at the annual meeting of the American Society for Reproductive Medicine found that three chromosomally normal embryos are needed for one live birth (a 94.9% chance of pregnancy). Sometimes it takes less, but often it takes more.

Last fall, for example, our first egg retrieval failed. I cried for weeks. The retrieval was textbook, and I had 19 follicles going into the surgery. But from those 19, doctors were only able to create one embryo. It arrested, or stopped developing, within hours.

Embryo banking has never been an ethical concern for Anthony or me or the other people we’ve met doing IVF because we all know that our embryos are not compatible with life until they are reinserted into the uterus. Even then, the embryo has to implant, and the cells must continue to divide to form a fetus. So much can go wrong between transfer day and birth, especially for infertility patients. To have a chance at a family, creating multiple embryos is necessary. For cancer patients, too, embryo banking is a gift as it allows them to preserve their fertility.

I also wish the SBC was correct in its assumption that IVF “routinely creates more embryos than can reasonably be implanted.” This may be true sometimes, but it isn’t our story. Anthony and I will have one embryo left after we transfer our first embryo this summer. Our doctor tells us there is a 60% chance it will lead to a pregnancy. We will likely need at least one more egg retrieval to have more than one child.

Back on the bench outside the fertility clinic, I think about how my parents raised me to believe that God can heal and perform miracles. According to the Bible stories I learned as a girl, Jesus walked on water and raised Lazarus from the dead. But my parents also taught me that God created the brains responsible for inventing modern medicine and that ignoring the medical interventions available to us would be like choosing to drown despite a nearby life raft.

“We commit to pray to our God who hears, sees, and remembers on behalf of those couples struggling with infertility” is how the SBC resolution ends. Anthony and I will continue to pray, too. But we will also rely on IVF.

This article was originally published on TODAY.com