Backed by the authority of the venerable Mayo Clinic, two new guides on fertility and pregnancy are more LGBTQ inclusive than ever. Should LGBTQ prospective and new parents add them to their collections? Here are my reviews.
Mayo Clinic Guide to Fertility and Conception, 2nd Edition, by Chandra C. Shenoy, Samir Babayev, and Zaraq Khan (Mayo Clinic Press, 2024), offers detailed information about everything from healthy habits to the physiology of conception and infertility, the various methods of assisted reproduction, and more. It is aimed at a general audience, but includes a dedicated chapter for single, trans, and gender-diverse parents-to-be, along with same-sex couples, with some additional information for LGBTQ people throughout.
Readers interested in the science behind the subject matter will particularly appreciate this volume. There’s a lot here, clearly explained for laypeople, and illuminated with real-life stories from people who have faced various fertility situations and challenges. A chapter at the end also looks at what happens when fertility options do not work out for someone, and they must consider options like adoption or child-free living.
The chapter specific to single and LGBTQ+ parents is both affirming and informative, asserting, “Your success as a parent will have less to do with your family structure and more to do with the nurturing relationship you create with your child…. Love makes for strong families. It’s science.” The chapter goes over options for both female and male couples (referring to sex, not gender, here), using either known or unknown donor gametes. Notably, it also mentions the possibility of reciprocal IVF (one partner’s egg, the other’s womb), an option that not every guide includes (but was how my own spouse and I started our family).
Language in the section for trans and nonbinary people is inclusive of all genders (e.g., “those born with a uterus and ovaries”), although this inclusive language does not carry through the rest of the book, which is often gendered. And while the book rightly notes, “an important first step is to look for a provider who puts you at ease,” there is no information, even in the Additional Resources at the end, on how one might go about finding such a person. (My answer: Check out the LGBTQ+ Healthcare Directory and/or the Directory of Trans-Affirming Care.)
The book also states, “By definition, infertility means not being able to get pregnant despite having appropriately time, unprotected sex for at least a year”—but that’s an older definition (though still used in many places). The American Society for Reproductive Medicine promulgated a more LGBTQ- and single-parent inclusive definition in late 2023. I’m guessing that this book was already headed to press by that time. While not binding on anyone, ASRM definitions are often looked to as standards; you should know that the newer definition exists and you may be able to point to it if you run into difficulties with insurance coverage or the like.
Overall, though, the information for LGBTQ people here feels accurate and supportive, although it does not get into the level of detail about LGBTQ-specific issues and questions like an LGBTQ-specific guide, such as Baby Making for Everybody, Queer Conception, or other recent titles, and does not use gender-inclusive language throughout. It also doesn’t offer the depth of thoughtful information and questions that the aforementioned titles do for LGBTQ people considering whether to pursue parenthood and pregnancy in the first place.
For general physiological information, however, it is second to none, and LGBTQ people may still find it useful as a reference if they can overlook some of the phrases and passages aimed at straight, cisgender couples (though if you can’t, I respect that choice). It is a significant step forward that a mainstream fertility guide has made a legitimately good effort to include LGBTQ families, even if you’ll probably want to read some of the LGBTQ-specific titles as well.
Mayo Clinic Guide to a Healthy Pregnancy, 3rd Edition, by Myra J. Wick (Mayo Clinic Press, 2024), is chock full of research-backed advice and more inclusive of LGBTQ prospective parents than ever before. It is aimed at a general audience, but includes a dedicated chapter for single, trans, and gender-diverse parents-to-be, along with same-sex couples, with some additional information for LGBTQ people throughout.
There’s a lot of information here, including sections on how to prepare for and become pregnant (though the fertility-specific volume above delves deeper on this); genetic screening and prenatal testing; staying healthy and safe during pregnancy; a month-by-month guide to pregnancy; labor (including C-sections); signs and symptoms that may cause questions or concerns; complications of pregnancy and childbirth; postpartum issues and care; basics of newborn care, including feeding; pregnancy loss; and more. There’s even a page about introducing your pet to a new baby. It’s as comprehensive a guide as I’ve seen that wasn’t for medical professionals, and I found it less patronizing and more palatable than some other pregnancy guides.
Throughout, the book uses language that is inclusive of pregnant people with same-sex partners (even in the parts about sex during and after pregnancy). A chapter for partners says explicitly that it is for “families of all kinds, including nonbiological parents, same-sex partners and gender-diverse partners.”
One entire chapter, too, is dedicated to “Transgender and gender-diverse pregnancies,” and explores topics like gender dysphoria during pregnancy, whether to stop hormone therapy during pregnancy and nursing, finding affirming care, and more. To the extent that this cisgender reviewer can tell, the information here is accurate and affirming. Oddly, though, while there’s a note in this chapter about a nongestational parent needing to do a co-parent adoption to become the legal parent, there’s no such note in the chapter that discusses assisted reproduction more generally, which means that queer people who don’t consider themselves trans or gender-diverse may miss it—although they are still subject to these legal needs.
Throughout, the book generally seems to avoid talking about “women” who are pregnant, leaving room for pregnant people of all genders. But it does still use gendered language in a few places, particularly in reference to babies, e.g., “If your baby is a boy, you can avoid being sprayed with urine by covering his penis loosely with a diaper or cloth.” The book also uses the term “breastfeeding” almost exclusively, though I did see two references to “chestfeeding,” one in the chapter specific to trans and gender-diverse pregnancies, and one later).
There’s also little here on issues specific to same-sex couples, such as particular concerns that nongenetic/nongestational same-sex partners may have about their feelings and roles. And none of the additional resources at the end are related to finding LGBTQ-affirming care. (I would have like to see mentions of the LGBTQ+ Healthcare Directory, the Directory of Trans-Affirming Care, and the Queer Doula Network, for example.) Luckily, there are a growing number of queer-specific books on conception and pregnancy that can fill in those gaps.
If you don’t mind the relatively small amount of gendered language, though, the Mayo Clinic Guide to a Healthy Pregnancy is perhaps the most thorough, readable, and authoritative guide to the universal parts of pregnancy and early parenthood available today and will probably annoy you less than many other pregnancy books intended for a general audience. Read it along with some of the queer-specific books, and you’ll have a good deal of the information you need to feel educated about the whole process.
