The "Arrogance" of IVF and My Spiritual Turmoil

I come from a big Catholic family and I've always identified myself as Catholic.  It's been a huge part of my life: I was born and raised a Catholic. I was baptized, received my First Communion, Confirmation, attended CCD and went to Mass every weekend with my parents up until I left for college. I would be lying if I said all these things were my choice.  My parents are old school Catholics, the type who attend Mass out of obligation, and the same was expected of me. I was 16 or 17 before I was allowed to even step foot in another church. At some point in high school I began to question my faith. You see, I went to high school in a very small, conservative town in rural Missouri. I don't remember going to school with one single African American or Hispanic kid. Homosexuality was not accepted and I can remember getting in some pretty heated verbal arguments with the homophobic boys I went to school with, one of them a preacher's kid. He was probably the biggest bigot of them all. Ironic, isn't it? Going to church became something that I resented. A lot. The only time I felt connected with God was when I went to youth group with my best friend but according to the Catholic faith I was supposed to feel that during the Eucharist. Sidebar: The priest I had in high school was actually placed in our parish due to suspected pedophilia at a former parish but that's an entirely different story.  
 
I went to a Methodist college my freshman year and only went to Mass when I went home during breaks. During the summer between my freshman and sophomore year Mike asked me to marry him (Yup, we were young!) and since he was getting ready to graduate and leave for the Army, I disenrolled from that school with the intention
of finishing my degree wherever the Army sent us (which I did, it just took a year longer than it should have.) We had hoped to be married in the Catholic church but the priest at my parents' parish refused to marry us. You see, the Catholic church requires marriage preparation classes. No big deal, right? Well it is when the groom is away at Boot Camp and AIT. Long story short, I went to a few sessions by myself and had to endure "the talk" where this 70 year old man explained to me that men needed "to release" at least once a week. It was horrible. In the end, he refused to marry Mike and I because Mike was unavailable to attend a weekend retreat due to being away with the Army. The funny thing is that he had no qualms about marrying a girl I went to H.S. with who showed up at his office several months pregnant. At least she could attend the marriage prep, damn it! Right?  (Disclaimer: I'm not judging her at all for getting pregnant--I am judging the priest's decision to marry her considering the Church's view on this issue.) Because Mike and I weren't married in the church we were "living in sin" in the eyes of the Catholic Church, despite our Christian ceremony on a quiet little beach in Virginia. Because of this, I wasn't "allowed" to partake in receiving communion during Mass. The hoops...oh the hoops.

We didn't go to any kind of church the first few years of our marriage but in the Fall of 2007 Mike decided to start attending RCIA (Rite of Christian Initiation for Adults) classes to become Catholic. The classes were great--we both learned a lot about Catholicism--it's funny that I learned more in those classes than I ever did growing up as a Catholic. Our priest was by far the best priest I'd ever known. Father Johnathan was actually Eastern Catholic and had received special dispensation from Rome to practice Roman Catholicism due to the lack of priests in the Armed Forces.  He was married and had two kids and I fully believe that this made him a better priest. I could respect his opinions on child rearing and marital issues since he had been through them himself, you know? During Easter weekend of 2008 Mike and I had our marriage blessed by the Church and Mike received his Sacraments. He was now a full fledged Catholic. We became very involved in the Catholic community at Fort Drum. He joined Knights of Columbus and I taught CCD and VBS.  I was a regular attendee of MCCW (Military Council of Catholic Women) even though I felt out of place most of the time.  Issues like abstinence, sex education and abortion frequently came up and I would always sit quietly in my chair, keeping my opinions to myself. You see, I'm pro-choice. That doesn't mean that I'm not pro-life. I don't want any baby to be aborted but I believe that it is a decision that should be let up to the mother, not one that should be made by a priest, congressman or any other person. (Hear that Rick Santorum? I'm talking to you...) Now that I'm pregnant I have an even harder time imagining what it'd be like to carry your rapist's child. Anyway...we stayed pretty involved in the parish right up until the time we moved to Fort Lewis.

One of the first things we did when we moved here was to look for a new church. We found one a few miles from our house but it was never really a good fit. Their Mass was different than anything we ever attended no one ever really welcomed us. I volunteered to help with VBS. Big mistake.  The summer of 2010 was the beginning of the realization that Mike and I needed real help trying to start a family. Tricare and the hospital on post were giving us some resistance in seeking treatment and I felt like I couldn't discuss our issues with anyone at church. The lady in charge of VBS had six or seven kids--how could she possibly understand what I was going through? Not to mention the Church's stance on treating infertility. As soon as I filled my commitment to VBS, Mike and I never looked back.  I went to Mass a few times on church and thought I had found a new church home; it reminded me so much of the chapel at Fort Drum. I attending MCCW a few times, where I was bombarded with questions like, "Do you have kids?" and "How many kids do you have?" Once again, I was sitting quietly in my chair and biting my tongue as the ladies discussed abortion issues and dissed President Obama (who, by the way, I proudly voted for and will vote for again in November.)

In October 2010, Mike and I began seeing the infertility clinic. I had my HSG at the end of the month and sent a mass email to the ladies of MCCW, explaining the test and asking for their prayers for good results. Whether they prayed for me or not, I'll never know, but I didn't hear anything back from a single person. It was around this time that Mike and I stopped going to church all together. It was just too hard to sit in pews with  what seemed like incredibly fertile people in a church that teaches that infertility treatments are wrong:

• Children are a gift; they are not a right. If a couple cannot achieve pregnancy naturally then God's will for them is to carry a cross that means no children of their own, except for the possibility of adoption. For some, this infertility (sometimes caused by Sexually Transmissible Diseases, contraception or abortion) becomes intolerable and so recourse to IVF is sought. Only infertile couples themselves know the extreme suffering childlessness brings, but solving their infertility with IVF is contrary to God's will (CCC 2373-2379).

Being Catholic comes with a lot of guilt. My Catholic readers know what I'm talking about. You feel guilty for missing mass, for eating meat on Fridays during Lent, for saying anything against the Church. You feel guilty if you have a snack within the hour before Mass, when you're supposed to be fasting and if you come from a big Catholic family like me, you feel guilty for turning your back on your "family's religion." I've been struggling for a long time, worried what my parents and other family members would think if I gave up Catholicism all together. Maybe not so much what they thought but how it'd make them feel. Would they feel like I was turning my back on not just the Church but them as well? In recent months, I've found myself having a very difficult time praying. I was angry at God and couldn't understand how people managed to have close, personal relationships with God. Then I realized that God didn't do anything. Why was I mad at him? I was angry with the Catholic Church, not God. Today I received an email from my big sister that said she and her husband were leaving the Church. That she'd had enough and an article about a teacher being fired from a Catholic school because of her choice to use IVF was the last straw. I was shocked but happily surprised. I was shocked because I always considered her to be a pretty devout Catholic and I was happy because it felt good to know that I wasn't alone in the feelings I'd been having for the past few years.

If you know me or have been following my blog for awhile, you probably know that I am now expecting my first baby after years of infertility, tests, procedures, surgery, etc. She was conceived through in vitro fertilization and is probably the most loved baby I have ever known, and she's not even here yet. My family wholeheartedly supported our decision to do IVF. So many people prayed for this baby and are so happy that she's coming into this world. In February 2012, the Vatican held a three day conference to discuss infertility treatments and testing. This council was obviously held by men. Men who have dedicated their lives to the service of God. Men who will never marry nor come to know the heart wrenching pain of infertility yet consider themselves to be the experts in telling their followers what to do. At the end of this conference Pope Benedict announced that couples who chose to do IVF were "arrogant for taking the place of the Creator."   That Mike and I are immoral for wanting a family and doing whatever it took to get it.  My 13 year old niece hit it on the head when she said to my sister, "But Mom, if that's the only way you can have a baby, why is that wrong?"

Various other articles echo the Pope's thoughts; that IVF babies are viewed a "product" rather than a child conceived out of love, in the conjugal act of marriage. That embryos are easily discarded and can be bought and sold on a whim. The Church's stance against IVF was nothing new to me but seeing the Pope, the leader of my church, say those things about IVF babies, about my baby...It hurt.  You might be wondering, "Why don't they just keep their method of conception to themselves? Is it that big of a deal?"  How could I possibly raise my daughter in a church that teaches her creation was wrong, that she was not a product of love? After Mike and I talked about it at great length, we decided that we can't. This was the last straw. Up until now I was able to agree to disagree with the Church regarding the issues of birth control, homosexuality, priests and marriage, etc. etc. etc. but when it comes to the precious miracle growing inside my belly, I can't just ignore my feelings any longer. Mike and I are leaving the Church.

I don't know where we'll end up and even though it's scary leaving this 'Catholic identity' behind, I feel liberated in a way.  It is important to me to teach our little girl something about God so that she can make an informed choice later in life as to whether or not she wants to pursue a spiritual/religious life. I'd like to have her baptized but I'm not sure what we'll do. Maybe just a baby dedication ceremony? I have no clue. Maybe we'll end up at an Episcopalian or Lutheran church close to our roots. All I know is that we are on the hunt for a new church. One that will be accepting of Mike and I, with all our tattoos and piercings, our views on politics and social issues and especially of the baby growing inside me. Wish us luck.