Since the U.S. Supreme Court’s reversal of Roe v. Wade in 2022, conversations around reproductive rights have been reignited with a fire we haven’t seen in years. People are asking tough questions like, What does autonomy over our bodies truly mean in this country? And who gets to decide?

While much of the conversation has centered around abortion, the ripples of this decision extend far beyond the abortion clinic. They reach into the private and often hidden realms of those like me who have experienced infertility and relied on reproductive technologies like in vitro fertilization (IVF). Suddenly, choices we thought we had control over feel fragile and precarious.

When you’ve struggled with infertility, the idea that your ability to build a family could now be subject to restrictive laws is terrifying. IVF could become yet another battleground issue in the post-Roe landscape. Laws that regulate or restrict abortion can often affect fertility treatments, especially when these treatments involve the creation and storage of embryos.

IVF in a Post-Roe World

For those unfamiliar with IVF, let’s break it down. It’s a process that offers hope to people who can’t conceive naturally. Eggs are collected from the ovaries and fertilized by sperm in a lab to create embryos. Doctors then implant these embryos in the uterus in the hopes that one — or sometimes more — will grow into a viable pregnancy. IVF is deeply emotional, vulnerable, and, let’s be real, draining — mentally, physically, and financially.

Now, imagine doing all of that and finding out that the legal landscape around these precious embryos has changed. Some of the same states passing abortion bans are also drafting “personhood” laws, which assign legal rights to embryos from the moment of conception. On the surface, many laws are about controlling abortion. But what happens when those legal protections extend to frozen embryos? Will hopeful parents be barred from discarding unused embryos, forcing them to exist indefinitely in storage? Will doctors feel constrained in offering their patients the best chance of success? The growing concern is that these options could become legally restricted or subjected to ethical scrutiny under more stringent reproductive regulations.

The Human Toll: Navigating Infertility

Infertility is a deeply personal journey. One that is often filled with hope, frustration, and heartache. I cannot have biological children. Growing up, I always imagined getting married, having children, and living happily ever after. The “American Dream,” right? It never crossed my mind that having biological children would not be an option for me.

Ten years ago, I got married, and about a year later, my husband and I started trying to get pregnant. Month after month, we were unsuccessful. After several tests, I learned I had fibroids, so I went through surgery to have them removed. After that, my husband and I tried intrauterine insemination (IUI), a fertility process less invasive than IVF. We were again unsuccessful. I was reluctant to try IVF because I knew it would not only be expensive, but it would take an emotional and physical toll on me. Not to mention: There is no guarantee. So, we continued to try naturally, and I tried every alternative medicine supplement, tea, oil, concoction, and practice (e.g., acupuncture) that someone swore helped them get pregnant. And yet, we were still unsuccessful.

Eventually, my reproductive health continued to decline as my fibroids returned and wreaked havoc on my body. I made the difficult decision to get a hysterectomy at the age of 43. Because I was able to keep my ovaries, I still had a chance to have biological children through a surrogate and IVF. Several months after my surgery, we tried IVF to harvest eggs that could then become embryos for a surrogate to carry. Again, we were unsuccessful; our embryos were not viable. 

As someone who has walked this path, I know firsthand the roller coaster of emotions that come with fertility treatments. For those of us who have experienced infertility, the idea that additional legal barriers could be imposed on our ability to pursue treatments like IVF feels like an added layer of cruelty. It is a reminder that our health care, and in many ways, our futures, are often subject to decisions that feel far removed from our lived realities.

Where Do We Go From Here?

The fight for reproductive justice isn’t just about abortion. It’s about who has the power to make decisions about their bodies, their families, and their futures. And now, more than ever, it’s critical to expand that conversation to include the impact on fertility treatments and reproductive choices at large.

The decisions being made in state and federal legislatures and courtrooms are not abstract. They affect real people. As we advocate for policies that respect personal autonomy, we must ensure that the narratives around reproductive rights encompass the experiences of those of us who face infertility. This includes pushing for laws that protect access to IVF and other reproductive technologies, even as we grapple with broader questions about choice and control over our bodies.

We need to talk about how these laws, intended or not, can hurt those trying to start families. We need to demand that lawmakers think about the full consequences of their actions. Because when it comes to reproductive justice, it’s never been just about one choice. It’s about the many choices we’re all entitled to make in our lives.