Queer Families and Reproductive Rights

(Originally published as my Mombian newspaper column.) Forty years ago this summer an event occurred that changed my life. On July 25, 1978, Louise Brown of the U.K. was born. We’re not related–but she was the first person in the world created through in vitro fertilization (IVF). Twenty-five years later, my spouse Helen and I welcomed our own son, born through IVF. Now, he is among eight million children created via IVF around the world. But while IVF has become an important part of LGBTQ family creation, we should be careful not to equate the two things. At the same time, we need to realize that current threats to reproductive health care—care that includes IVF—could impact the LGBTQ community as much as any other.

IVF
Photo credit: DrKontogianniIVF [CC BY 2.0]

First, let’s debunk the idea that all LGBTQ families owe their existence to high-tech reproductive technologies. Brown, who had an unasked-for spotlight thrust upon her when she was born, has become an outspoken advocate for IVF, and deserves much praise for that. On her birthday this year, Brown wrote in the U.K.’s Independent newspaper, “IVF is playing a huge role in the changing shape of families, with same-sex couples now able to be parents.” While I very much appreciate her recognition of same-sex parents, her point isn’t strictly true. IVF only refers to insemination done outside the gestational carrier’s body, usually in a petri dish. Even before IVF, however, same-sex couples used assisted insemination, in which sperm is placed into cervix or uterus with a syringe (not, despite the myth, a turkey baster). Today, they’re still more likely to use that simpler and cheaper method before trying IVF.

Brown isn’t the only one I’ve seen over the years crediting IVF or even plain old assisted insemination with allowing LGBTQ folks to become parents. They are right, of course, insofar as these techniques have allowed single LGBTQ people and same-sex couples to become parents without needing different-sex intercourse. Let’s remember, though, that the first generation of out queer parents had children in previous, different-sex relationships. (The first custody cases involving queer parents date to just after World War II.) Even more recently, a 2011 analysis from the Williams Institute at UCLA found that U.S. Census data “suggest that offspring of lesbian and gay parents are more often the product of different-sex relationships” before the parents are out. And many LGBTQ parents, too, have adopted children.

Nevertheless, both IVF and assisted insemination have become key methods of family creation for many LGBTQ folks, including those using a surrogate (since the surrogate usually doesn’t use their own egg), those having fertility challenges, and those doing reciprocal IVF like my spouse and I (my egg, her womb).

This is why current threats to reproductive rights should be on every LGBTQ person’s radar. Numerous states and the U.S. House have introduced bills that would define “personhood” as beginning at conception and grant human rights to embryos. If passed, these bills could have a devastating effect on access to assisted reproduction.

Resolve: the National Infertility Association explains on its website that if such bills pass, “anything that puts an embryo at risk could be a violation of law.” This leads to a number of worrying questions, they explain, including: Could the physician, lab, or patient be liable if one or more embryos from an IVF cycle do not develop normally in the lab or do not result in live births? Would clinics who perform assisted inseminations—or their patients—be at risk of criminal charges because such inseminations carry a higher risk of miscarriage than insemination via intercourse? Who will have legal responsibility for fertilized eggs that were not transferred to a uterus, and could people lose the rights of disposition over their embryos? Could embryo freezing be prohibited as too risky, since not all embryos thaw well?

Resolve also asks: May someone who lives in a state with personhood laws travel to other states for IVF, or would their embryos remain bound by their home state’s laws? Would they be able to move currently frozen embryos to another state to continue treatment? Even if they could, what if they cannot afford to live in another state during treatment?

Such questions are deeply worrying, especially if the Senate confirms Brett Kavanaugh, President Trump’s anti-choice Supreme Court nominee, which could give new vigor to those pushing for the personhood laws.

Additionally, Kavanaugh has written previously that an employer’s religious beliefs should allow them to refuse to cover birth control for their employees. This is obviously harmful to those not wanting to become parents (including many in the LGBTQ community who are in interfertile relationships)—but has wider impact, too. The only time in my life I’ve been on birth control was when my spouse and I were trying to have a kid—we needed to synch our cycles for reciprocal IVF, and birth control pills were the way to do so. Birth control pills are also often prescribed for a variety of other medical purposes. Add these to the list of reasons that we should keep pressuring our senators to stop Kavanaugh’s confirmation.

The history of LGBTQ parents and our children is not exclusively tied to that of IVF and assisted reproduction, but many of us owe a debt of gratitude to the technologies for helping us create our families in the way we wanted to create them. Reproductive rights, including access to reproductive technologies and health care, is very much a queer issue. And reproductive rights are on the line, along with so many other rights, both with the Kavanaugh nomination and the election this November.

Difficult times, yes—but all the more reason to make our voices heard and to vote.

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