We watched Joy, the Netflix film on the Birth of IVF. I’ve been seeing a lot of chat about it and so was keen to watch it as soon as it came out.
As someone who has gone through multiple rounds of fertility treatments, including IVF, I knew it would be meaningful. But it hit harder than I imagined.
Whilst I knew a small amount of how IVF came about, and had heard of Louise Brown’s (the first IVF baby) story, I didn’t really know much detail.
I absolutely recommend watching it – it’s a beautiful piece and really captured the emotional journey and the pioneering required to bring IVF into reality.
I think what hit me hard was the connection to today, our today, my today. The link between what those incredible people achieved and my ability to sit in my living room, with my 7 year old IVF baby upstairs, sleeping soundly. That without them, he might not exist. I’m sure for them, the aim was just, finally, getting one baby. The reality is, however, that millions of babies, children, adults exist because of what they (and no doubt many, many others) fought for. It’s just… well, hard to get your head around.
Achieving the science is one thing; but the courage to push against the conversation of ethics and morals and the debates. That’s the power. That’s progress. That’s how society moves forward.
Watching it, it all just hit me. That’s everything we have today, is because someone, somewhere, somewhen decided to push against the norm. To change the boundaries and do something that hadn’t been done before. To stand there with the courage to fight against countless voices. Be it gay rights, IVF or the shifts surrounding pregnancy loss. That progress, the position we are in today, is because of them. People we haven’t met, we barely know of. Incredible, wonderful people who are not part of a distant history. They are very much a part of today’s landscape and present. It really wasn’t that long ago.
I was so in awe of the so-called Ovum club and everyone that followed. Every single person who has dared to trust science at any point, has contributed to its learning and progress. To put faith in people who do not even know if something is possible. To give them the only fraction of hope you have left. I get that feeling. That takes a lot to do. For some, the pay off will have worked and been wonderful. For others, that hope and faith would not have returned with a child. Another loss, another heartbreak. A constant dream. A testament to the all-consuming nature of trying.
What also struck me was that whilst, of course, IVF and fertility treatments have improved greatly, it is still not a quick fix, an easy outcome or a low risk roll of the dice. It fails, repeatedly. It’s hard. Exhausting. And the gamble doesn’t always pay off. The story told in Joy – the one of people giving hope and faith over the scientist who don’t have the perfect, foolproof answer – that is happening daily in fertility clinics worldwide. Still.
I am forever in awe of those who came before us. Grateful for their contribution, no matter how small. Inspired by those who dare to push against the norm, who raise their voices, believe in something different.
We see it all the time. In our day to day.
The outspoken are told to hush.
The different are made to conform.
The dreamers are quickly humbled.
But we need those people. The dreamers. The people who think creatively. Who see a different way. Who speak out, shout loudly, demand to be heard.
We need those people.
Where would the world be if people were never allowed to chase their ideas and dreams?
Especially when their dreams mean other people’s dreams come true.
The Legacy of Leo 