“Mom, you just don’t understand!”
More times than I can count, my children have uttered these words in response to the “cruelties” I so unfeelingly inflict upon them - atrocities such as: asking them to put away the veritable sea of clothes on their bedroom floors; or “forcing” them to complete homework that is utterly disinteresting to them; or insisting that they do not threaten their siblings with a torturous death for “messing with their stuff.” Many times, my grieved children actually have fairly compelling reasons for why they should be permitted to forego certain chores or schoolwork, or seek vengeance against their terrorizing younger siblings. When listing the injustices, trials, or challenges that have been thrust upon them, their words appear to hold some weight: maybe their mother truly doesn’t understand - maybe she is completely out-of-touch, or perhaps, just totally indifferent to their suffering.
I am sure my fellow parents can relate. Parenting is hard - and it is hard because this world is broken and suffering exists. Though most parents would prefer to shield their children from pain and sorrow, the most loving parents recognize that this natural inclination - though it appears loving on the surface - in actuality, inflicts greater sorrow. Suffering and heartache are realities with which we all must come to terms, but because each of us suffer in distinct ways, our sorrows often feel trivialized, misunderstood, or even wholly discredited by others, and, as you might imagine, this complication causes considerable friction in our interpersonal relations. We especially see this contention when it comes to the discussion of divisive social and political topics - topics that impact our personal lives or the lives of those we love.
For many years, I have advocated for the pro-life cause. My advocacy has always rested on the inherent dignity of the human person at all stages of human development - regardless of mental or physical abilities, health status, or life circumstances - and I have been especially vocal about the issue of abortion. While the battle is far from over, I am heartened by the growing opposition to abortion - a practice that centers on the intentional destruction of human life. In the face of empirical evidence demonstrating that life begins at conception, most people have serious reservations for ending that life, even if the prospect of carrying a child is not without difficulty, risk, or even suffering, because many cannot dismiss the deliberate destruction of human life (even at the earliest developmental stages of that life) for the sake of preserving the happiness, comfort, or peace of another - however good those things might be.
But while the tide appears to be turning (however slowly) in reference to the abortion debate, the same cannot be said for the ever-burgeoning issue of the fertility industry, which offers in-vitro fertilization (IVF), egg and sperm donation, and surrogacy - all with the noble intent of addressing the cross of infertility and childlessness. Only last week, the Trump Administration, in a seemingly compassionate move, announced its plan to increase access to cost-prohibitive fertility treatments, among them, IVF, by lowering drug costs. A cursory examination of the issue would suggest this is a “pro-life” effort: how could the creation of human life - particularly to alleviate the suffering of couples struggling under the immense burden of infertility - be anything but pro-life? Isn’t it pro-life to welcome children?
Undoubtedly, yes - welcoming children, regardless of whether the arrival of said children brings financial challenges, or uncertain medical diagnoses, or other significant challenges, is most certainly pro-life, because it upholds the inherent dignity of the child by seeking to serve him or her. It shows the subservience of adult desires or concerns to the undeniable goodness of a unique, unrepeatable human life. The creation of children in an IVF lab, however, while it appears to place human life at an absolute premium of importance, actually flies in the face of respecting the intrinsic worth of the human person, as it commodifies the creation of people (leading to a host of unethical consequences), cheapens the fundamental purpose of human sexuality and marital unity, and subjects embryos - distinct persons with their own singular DNA - to a eugenics litmus test to determine worth. Though it may be an unpopular stance, IVF is not the welcoming of children, but the procuring of them - regardless of the cost.
It is estimated the one out of every fifteen children created through IVF technology results in a live birth. There are a variety of reasons for this, but the primary reason rests in the substantial cost of artificially creating human life. Since IVF is such a costly and time-consuming process, the creation of “surplus” embryos is advantageous to ensuring the practice is efficient and “successful” - perhaps, not for the developmentally tiny child, but at least, for the parents. Parents retrieve and fertilize more eggs than they would ideally wish to have implanted - I mean, of course, most people desire one or two children, but who in their right mind would actually want twelve? - fully conceding the distinct possibility that the products of their union (their chromosomal union, if not their physician union) will be consigned to years or decades in a medical freezer, blatant destruction by lab technicians (if determined genetically inferior), or “donation” (See the plethora of “options” here.) I remember once speaking to a woman who had undergone IVF, obtained her desired number of children, and then lauded herself for her plan to philanthropically donate the “extras.” “You donated your children?” I asked. Silence.
When we frame the reality in clear terms, the gruesomeness, however nicely veiled, is rather repulsive. Imagine if a couple engaged in sexual intercourse with the express intent to create a child AND give that child away. Would we find that unsettling? Disturbing? I should hope we would have an even stronger reaction and find it reprehensible. But then, imagine if we raise the insidiously diabolical machinations: what if this same couple engaged in sex to purposefully create a child - a child biologically connected to them - with the motivation to sell that child. Horrific, no? Yet, this, too, is happening. Couples, who through the “miracle” of IVF have achieved their desired family, are now attempting to sell their unused embryos (i.e. their biological children) or unfertilized eggs (which will ultimately become the biological mother’s children) on Facebook Marketplace for thousands of dollars. Though these attempts are illegal, since the out-right purchase of eggs and embryos is not legally permissible, women are allowed to “donate” their eggs or the fertilized embryos, and donors are often compensated for their “time and effort.” Again, while the concept of “donation” has a positive connotation, should donation ever be applied to human beings? Just peruse a website dedicated to egg or sperm donation, and see how, in essence, it is a catalogue of advertising the pedigrees of biological mothers or fathers - touting their genetic fitness and desirability by listing various physical characteristics and intellectual attributes, a la Tinder. Is this really pro-life? Is this truly loving? Or is this an open marketplace for the trafficking of human beings?
The Catholic Church has long taught that each individual human being is a gift. Made Imago Dei (in the Image of God, our Creator), we each possess a singular, unrepeatable soul that is destined to impact the world. Some people live long lives, creating thousands of connections with others along the way and accomplishing much. A miscarried child may only impact his or her bereft parents. But both leave an imprint - however seemingly imperceptible or insignificant - on the world. And gifts are meant, not only to be appreciated, but also to remain unexpected. Unfortunately, our modern world - brimming with conveniences and pleasures galore - has tricked us into believing that all good things are due to us. We expect perfect health, perfect happiness, and now, a perfect family.
Imagine a person with a deep desire to marry: would he or she be within their rights to expect that someone marry them? Why not? Most people, particularly in the West, are opposed to compulsory marriages (though they have happened in certain historical periods or, even now, in specific areas of the world), because we see that as a violation of the principle of marriage itself. We recognize that matrimony should be a voluntary covenant, in which two spouses freely bestow their lifelong love, commitment, and fidelity upon each other - not a transaction in which one or both spouses feel entitled to the other, as a means to their personal happiness and fulfillment. Yet for some reason, we do this with children. Children are to be discarded when inconvenient, burdensome, or challenging, and they are simultaneously to be expected - regardless of the avenues employed to “obtain” them” - when they are ardently sought.
As Christians, our life’s mission is to fully embrace our role as a gift to others. In imitation of the Ultimate Gift, namely God, we are to become a source of light, happiness, joy, solace, and unconditional love to our fellow man - giving freely of ourselves. Simultaneously, we are to view others as gifts: blessings to cherish and appreciate for themselves, not objects to gratify our desires - however understandable those desires might be. Saint John Paul II, whose feast day is celebrated today, states in Love and Responsibility that, “A person’s rightful due is to be treated as an object of love, not as an object for use.” Children are a good, and it’s quite natural that many people have an innate desire to bear and raise children, but if we are going to maintain the dignity of children - each uniquely made through the love and Providence of our Heavenly Father, to be loved by us, in turn - adults must courageously prioritize the lives and welfare of vulnerable children above our own desires.
As adults, as partners in the creation, we are tasked with a wonderfully extraordinary, yet fearsome, responsibility of bringing new life into existence. For the sake of the children created, this awesome responsibility should not be entered lightly or selfishly, but rather, we should demonstrate a willingness to be a gift to the children with whom we have been entrusted. In our role as co-creators with the Father, we should strive to have our parenthood resemble His own. Our desire to have children should stem from a magnanimity that seeks to give, not acquire. Saint Irenaeus of Lyons expressed this well when he spoke of God’s desire to fully give Himself to His creatures: “God did not make the first man because He needed company, but because He wanted someone to whom He could show His generosity and love.” We should generously do the same: “Freely have you received, freely give” (Matthew 10:8).
I realize that my position here might sound harsh or unfeeling toward the suffering of infertile couples. I know that, as a person who has clearly not struggled with infertility, I might seem to “not understand” the suffering others so sadly face.
It is true that I do not know the specific heartache of desiring to carry a baby, only to be met with an empty womb. The anguish of trying to conceive for months and months, or even years and years, only to remain childless. That heartbreak must be excruciating.
But I do know heartache, sadness, and suffering. We all do. Each of us endures trials and difficulties, misfortunes or even tragedies. Some of these sufferings are easily seen, while others are borne in the hidden recesses of our heart. And while these sufferings can make us cry out in agony, doubt our strength, or make us question the very goodness of a God Who allows us to endure such anguish, there is sanctification in the sorrow. When we suffer - that is, when we suffer well - we become humble. We realize the limits to our own power and admit the fragility of our carefully laid plans. We grow in gratitude for the things we already possess, while simultaneously becoming more aware of the suffering of those around us - because we know what it means to suffer. We become detached from the things of this world - even good and beautiful things, like parenthood - and we seek after something that supersedes the here and now, that fills the aching void of our hearts, that is not subject to death or decay, and that provides everlasting happiness - “the peace which passeth all understanding” (Philippians 4:7). Most importantly, we begin to resemble the God Who invited suffering for the sake of love. Saint Augustine wrote, “Life Himself came down to be slain; Bread came down to suffer hunger; the Way came down to endure weariness on His journey; the Fountain came down to experience thirst. Do you, then, refuse to work and suffer?”
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