Confession: I haven’t been able to bring myself to watch The Handmaid’s Tale.

I’ve heard outstanding praise for the show, and I know it’s unfortunately very relevant to our times. This post absolutely isn’t intended to criticize the show.

The reason that I can’t bring myself to watch it is that it portrays infertility as an issue that drives desperation and delusionality. Rather than characterizing infertility as a medical condition requiring treatment and support, it is portrayed as the cause of cruelty and violence. Characters with infertility are not shown to be struggling with grief or the financial and emotional toll of medical care, but rather an uncontrollable desire for a baby that can be fulfilled by any means necessary.

I believe this unfortunately speaks to the way infertility is represented and understood more broadly in our culture. It is not often recognized as a valid and legitimate source of grief. It is seen as a “want” for a baby - almost like a want for a nice house or some other material possession - rather than a human biological need. Media representations like The Handmaid’s Tale give the impression that infertility is just a matter of “a lack of a baby” that can be easily solved by obtaining a baby…any baby, through any means at all. This is a common portrayal of infertility and in no way unique to The Handmaid’s Tale. Raising Arizona is another example of an excellent film but horrible portrayal of infertility that comes to mind.

This of course is parallel to and intersects with the way pregnancy and infant loss parents are treated. These losses are seen as the lack of “something” we “wanted” rather than the death of an actual person who mattered deeply to us. It is seen as something that can be “solved” if we have a living baby, whether that’s via biological means, adoption, or some other more violent means. The Hand That Rocks the Cradle tells the story of a woman who has a miscarriage followed by a hysterectomy, and attempts to obtain a living baby by kidnapping someone else’s child, and there are countless other narratives like this.

I think these narratives reflect and shape the way that we as a society view babies as possessions that are replaceable. In this way, baby loss is seen as an issue of “not getting what you want” or a matter of missing out on something. The labor that we as parents do to remember our babies is seen as unnecessary, self-pitying, and self-indulgent. The sacrifices we make to afford and endure medical treatment to prevent future losses are seen as self-serving, as steps we are taking to replace the babies we’ve lost or solve the loss we’ve faced  rather than necessary efforts to prevent us from experiencing additional deaths of people that matter to us. Rarely is it acknowledged that loss parents would give anything not to have to endure this, and to instead be parenting living children. We need to recognize that infertility is not a craving; it’s an unmet biological and relational need. Pregnancy loss is not the loss of a fantasy; it’s the death of a child.

I’ve made the following chart to highlight some of the ways that this perception translates to the way loss parents are treated in our society in comparison to parents of living children. 

One caveat: I want to name that many parents of living children, in particular moms, trans and nonbinary parents, parents of color, and single parents face a great deal of stigma and oppression. When stating that parents of living children are more likely to be praised for certain things or given more understanding around certain things, I mean that in a general sense. It’s not meant to diminish the very hard realities of parenting, in particular with marginalized identities, in our current society.

I believe that we need to recognize loss parents and people with infertility as people dealing with very real and legitimate grief. As people who are experiencing a human need that is not being met, whether that is the need to become pregnant when one tries to or the need to meet and watch one’s baby grow, and to prevent the deaths of future babies. Please know that if you are a loss parent and/or navigating infertility, your grief matters and your identity as a parent is real.