A few months ago, Leigh Fitzpatrick Snead published the book “Infertile but fruitful” (Infertile but Bearing Fruit, in English). He has been traveling across the United States for years, speaking about marriage, family, and the Catholic Church. With his new book, he seeks to shed light on the reality of many married couples who are unable to have children, the challenges they face, and the support provided by the Church.
In this interview, she talks with Omnes about how these married couples can discover that they are still called to bear fruit in their lives.
In a world where there are couples with empty cribs who cannot have children, you say that they can bear fruit. How can these childless couples discover that spiritual fruitfulness in their daily lives?
– It’s very difficult to achieve. Although it’s very easy to say, you have to bring that suffering to the foot of the Cross; you have to transform it and see that there’s something more to that pain. In those moments of revelation, you realize that we’re called to be fruitful and that there are other fruits besides babies.
But I think it's very, very hard when you're in a happy marriage and you're looking at that empty crib. It's very hard to understand why it's not happening, to step back from it all and realize this.
A lot of the time, you don't realize it because, unlike suffering from cancer or another illness that causes pain and discomfort, infertility often doesn't physically hurt, so you don't feel sick—you just feel like something isn't happening. I think we're always quick to equate suffering with pain.
Our bodies are designed for babies; we are called to the vocation of motherhood or fatherhood. And all the beautiful things that come with this actually create barriers that prevent us from realizing that there are other fruits of marriage beyond having a baby.
The way to discover this different kind of fruitfulness is to stay connected. We learn from the communion of saints that sometimes you just have to persevere and not turn your back, knowing that Jesus has not turned His back on you. And perhaps you won’t see or know the fruits, or maybe the fruit doesn’t have to be a goal in itself. I think you’ll be able to see what fruits you bear later on.
As long as you remain faithful to Jesus, to your spouse, to your vocation to marriage, and are open to life and parenthood, I think—well, it’s a promise, isn’t it? It’s the good news that everything is going to be all right. It’s very difficult, and I never want to say, «Just do this—it’s so easy,» because I’ve been there and I know it’s really hard.
Often, when infertility is an issue, we assume it's the woman's fault. How can married couples have open conversations? How can they communicate and address the problem together, without placing the blame on one or the other?
– I think that’s very difficult, and there’s a reason why there’s a relatively high divorce rate among those who suffer from infertility. As Catholics, you often don’t discover these problems until you’re married, so it’s only once you’re together that they come to light. And given the way our Church teaches us about marriage, love, sexuality, and bringing children into the world, it can’t be viewed any other way than as a problem for «us.» Because it doesn’t matter if she were with another man or he were with another woman and they could have a baby; it is this specific marriage that has an infertility problem. Thinking about their own little ecosystem and the union of “one flesh” means that this is something they must face together.
But the reality is that they’re going to receive medical diagnoses and lab results, and they’ll find out if there’s something wrong with one person, the other, or both. And even though it’s obviously still a shared problem, you’re the one with the low sperm count, the defective ovary, or whatever it may be, and you’re going to feel guilty and start having dark thoughts.
It’s essential to remember from the start that you’re in this together as a married couple. It’s easy to avoid conversations in the hope that you’ll go to the doctor and they’ll simply give you a pill and fix the problem, but that doesn’t happen. So, as usual, the cure for many problems is simply to keep talking about it. I believe that our Church’s teachings are designed to provide that kind of support for couples, because it’s a problem for both of you.
Speaking of the Church’s teachings, how can a Catholic couple maintain this balance between their legitimate desire to have children and remaining faithful to the Church’s teaching against resorting to in vitro fertilization and other modern assisted reproductive technologies?
– That’s really the hard part right now for most people, because IVF is very common and is marketed as a product that seems guaranteed to work. It’s very tempting.
In my book, I recount how my husband and I went to see a doctor who performed IVF, thinking, «Oh, but we’re not going to do that.» However, it was like setting a place at your dinner table for the devil: «I didn’t invite you, but I set a place for you, and we’re ready.».
I think it really helps to receive solid Catholic medical care—from someone who treats you as a Catholic couple or at least respects those wishes—and to be able to see a fertility specialist who doesn’t perform IVF. Those are ways to protect yourself, because it’s going to be tempting; by the time you reach that stage, you’ve been trying for a long time, you’re sad, and you just want a baby—and that’s what they promise you.
But if you recall the reasons why we save sex for marriage, why we use natural family planning or restorative reproductive medicine, I think what we value about those things should also remind us why we don’t turn to IVF. It deliberately separates the procreative aspect from the unitive aspect, inviting many other people into the most private act, in addition to bringing all sorts of other problems.
One of the major objections used to be the number of embryos implanted and selective reduction abortions; and although clinics now apparently have much better embryo screening techniques (which is also terrible) and only transfer one or two embryos, the horror of IVF still exists.
Also, you need to surround yourself with your family; perhaps your family is Catholic but has never thought about infertility or IVF, and they may not know about it. They need to know why you’re going through this and why you’re not doing it, so they can support you, since you’re on edge and at your most vulnerable. It’s very easy to lose hope, and statistically speaking, there are many people in the church pews who have turned to IVF.
What do you think is the biggest disconnect today between the community around us, the Church, and the priests when they speak with Catholic couples who are unable to have children?
– That was one of the reasons I wrote the book—not just for other women or couples like me, but also for priests and seminarians, so they could get a little glimpse of what this is really like. I tried to be truly honest without exaggerating, sharing details about what you’re up against.
Priests need to understand that earthly aspect of life; if you invite them over for dinner, they get a sense of what life is like with children, but obviously they don’t have as many opportunities to understand what life is like with infertility. I hope the book helps them. I think they need it, and young priests are making an effort to learn about these kinds of things, especially if they’re keeping up with current events, because IVF is in the news all the time and it’s hard to ignore. As long as they’re willing to learn and keep an open mind, I think that will help a lot.
But again, it’s such a private issue that, even if there’s a support group and kind priests, it’s very easy to isolate yourself. That’s also why I think it’s easier to learn about the subject by reading, in private, a book by someone you may not know. Some of my favorite letters are from strangers who tell me, «I was so ashamed to feel these things—to feel jealous of other women—or I didn’t know anyone else felt this way; I did, too.» It’s much easier to find that on a page, process it a bit, and then maybe want to talk to your sister, your mother, your close friend, or your priest. And then your priest might say, «Oh, I have an idea what that’s like—tell me more,» and be able to ask the right questions to understand the full complexity of it.
I think there should be a greater effort to help people simply learn the vocabulary and know what’s sensitive and insensitive to say. People always have good intentions, but you can put your foot in your mouth at any moment while trying to be kind. The topic of pregnancy and related issues is very sensitive, because you don’t know who’s going through a hard time. When I started writing about infertility, I found out that people I never would have imagined were suffering from it. I used to think they were just women focused on their careers or whatever, and then they’d confide in me that they’d been trying for six years and nobody knew. It’s a very taboo subject.





