Just over a year ago, I stayed up until 2 a.m. editing a story, because the deadline was harder than most: The writer, Madeleine Kearns, was on the brink of giving birth. And the story in question was about what she had gone through to bring her baby into the world. Many of you read—and loved!—that story, but for those who didn’t: After struggling with pain and infertility, which no mainstream doctor could conclusively explain, Maddy sought out something called “restorative reproductive medicine” in order to conceive her daughter.
It’s a branch of medicine that’s often misrepresented in left-leaning outlets as conservative quackery, because it was pioneered by Catholic surgeons as an alternative to in vitro fertilization (IVF), to which the Church is opposed. Just last week, it was characterized in “The New York Times” as “an approach that many medical experts argue may give false hope to couples who have not been able to have children.” But for Maddy, it felt like her only hope.
And it worked. Her daughter was born exactly a year ago tomorrow. (Happy birthday to her!) At the time, Maddy and I spoke a lot about how, even though she sought the treatment because she’s Catholic, it could help so many women who aren’t, for whom IVF isn’t an option. But in her piece today—a response to the “Times” article—Maddy argues that politicizing this treatment could deter people from seeking it. —Freya Sanders
The left-leaning press is wildly suspicious about the medical intervention that allowed me to become a mother.
“A faction of Christian conservatives and MAHA-heads have joined forces to advocate for ‘restorative reproductive medicine,’” warns The Cut, explaining that its proponents operate “on the flawed assumption that infertility can be treated with lifestyle modifications like diet, exercise, and cycle charting.”
Meanwhile the Guardian wonders if it is “the right’s path to limiting IVF.”
And, just last week, The New York Times described it as “an approach that many medical experts argue may give false hope to couples who have not been able to have children.”
Missing from these articles is an honest and fair explanation of what restorative reproductive medicine actually is. Allow me to offer one: Restorative reproductive medicine, otherwise known as RRM, assumes that infertility is a symptom of an underlying condition—and that the job of the physician is to diagnose and treat that condition, in order to restore the patient’s health.
For instance, my own fertility trouble was caused by endometriosis—a gynecological disorder where tissue that’s supposed to grow inside the uterus grows outside it, but which is poorly treated by mainstream medicine. Almost two years ago, an RRM doctor performed surgery on me to remove the tissue, allowing me to conceive naturally.
This might not sound especially radical—surely, it’s every doctor’s job to make people well again?—but it’s often not what happens when most people go for fertility treatment.
Last year, for a piece about the clinic where I received a type of RRM known as natural procreative technology, I spoke to a dozen women who’d been told by doctors that their infertility was “unexplained,” before being offered in vitro fertilization (IVF)—which, for some of them, didn’t work, likely because the condition that was preventing them from carrying a child remained uncured. After all, if your reproductive system isn’t well enough to nurture an embryo, it doesn’t matter whether that embryo formed there or was placed in your womb by a doctor.
The same is true of sperm: The Guardian recently ran a podcast about a couple who spent years trying to conceive, saw doctors who were unable to explain why it wasn’t working, and spent thousands of dollars on IVF—unsuccessfully. In the end, it transpired that the would-be father was suffering from varicoceles, a testicular condition that is fairly easy to diagnose and treat. The couple then conceived naturally.
The reason natural procreative technology is often treated as sinister by left-leaning outlets is that it was pioneered by a devoutly Catholic gynecologist named Dr. Thomas Hilgers—and is popular among those who don’t want to pursue IVF for religious reasons. It’s also championed in MAHA circles, where invasive medical procedures like IVF are treated with suspicion. But just because it’s supported by right-leaning groups doesn’t mean it’s a bad treatment.
For me, it felt like my only hope of having a child.
In March 2024, after failing to sustain a pregnancy for over a year and a half, having endured the heartbreak of miscarriage, and without any kind of diagnosis, my husband and I found ourselves explaining to a fertility specialist in New York City that we would not consider IVF. We’re Catholic and accept our church’s teaching on assisted reproduction. But while reporting my piece, I spoke to many women who didn’t want to pursue IVF for other reasons. While it has helped millions of couples battling infertility achieve pregnancy, it can be financially, physically, and emotionally draining; some of the women had tried it and found it wasn’t working for them.
But the left-leaning media see RRM not as a good alternative to IVF, but at best, a threat to it, and at worst, quackery, a ploy by the religious right to lure couples away from their only hope of having children. Last week, The New York Times noted that “professional medical associations have characterized the restorative reproductive medicine movement as motivated by ideology rather than solid clinical evidence—a backdoor way to further limit reproductive rights on religious grounds without taking a politically disastrous stance against IVF.” The piece in question was a profile of Emma Waters, a young Christian wife and mother, who is a reproductive policy analyst at The Heritage Foundation—the conservative think tank behind Project 2025.
Ironically, The New York Times profile itself reads as if it was “motivated by ideology”; it never explained the merits of RRM, let alone assessed them. It never pointed out that many professional medical associations who champion IVF—such as the American Society for Reproductive Medicine and Society for Reproductive Endocrinology and Infertility—have members who make their livelihoods through IVF and see RRM as competition. It is, indeed, a much cheaper alternative. One couple I spoke to paid less than $9,000 to be treated at the clinic I visited, after having paid $30,000 out of pocket for two rounds of IVF.
It wouldn’t be the first time The Gray Lady’s journalists have allowed political prejudice to blind them from the medical truth. For years, Times journalists ignored mounting evidence that gender-confused children were being terribly mistreated by doctors who affirmed their symptoms rather than treating them—despite reporters such as myself, Abigail Shrier, Helen Joyce, and Jesse Singal sounding the alarm in outlets ranging from The Times of London to The Free Press. Their logic? If conservatives think it’s bad—it must be good.
Something similar is happening with RRM, only in reverse.
On the face of it, you would think that restorative reproductive medicine would be appealing to the liberal who argues that the healthcare system needs reform and women are being failed by it. What’s sad is that when medical treatment becomes politicized—with IVF seen as the left-wing option and RRM as the right-wing option—it could stop people getting the treatment that might actually work for them.
Like IVF, RRM cannot guarantee a baby—although clinics report impressive rates of success. But unlike IVF, it aims to give patients an explanation for their infertility, and leave them healthier. In the 12 months since my article about RRM came out—in the comments, by email, and through word of mouth—I have heard from dozens of couples who have pursued the same treatment that I did. Many now have much longed-for children. But even those who have not yet achieved pregnancy told me that restorative treatments left them feeling better than they have in years.
When I sought out RRM, I wanted my body to be as healthy as possible. After my surgery, I found that the chronic pelvic pain I’d struggled with my entire adult life, and the agonizing periods, were gone. And a couple of months later, I found out I was pregnant with my daughter, who turns 1 this week.
As of now, I am 15 weeks pregnant with her baby sibling.