Where Hope Meets Joy

A woman and her husband sit across from an older man in a white coat. A large wooden desk stands between them.

The doctor looks at the couple and says, “I don’t believe this will cause any damage, but it’s also worth saying, I don’t believe this will result in a baby for you. I don’t think there’s much chance of success – I think it’s important that you know that.”

Husband, looking at the doctor, then his wife, says “I don’t understand. So why should we do it?”

Wife, addressing her husband, replies, “Because it might mean that others do have babies.”

"Joy: the Birth of IVF” is a cinematic portrayal of the discovery of one of the foundational assistive reproductive technologies. It is in this story that we meet two distinctive groups of heroes, without whom we would not have about 12 million people on this earth. The scientific and clinical team of Patrick Steptoe (surgeon), Robert (Bob) Edwards (physiologist) and Jean Purdy (nurse and embryologist) worked tirelessly to make in vitro fertilization a reality. They fought through numerous obstacles that nearly shut down the project multiple times, barriers that are still present today—physical, emotional, political and philosophical arguments against the pursuit of IVF.

In one of the early scenes where this trio of Steptoe, Edwards and Purdy commit to working on IVF together, they name the elephant in the room and look around at one another to see if anyone wants to back out, knowing what they’re up against:

Steptoe: “You know they’ll throw the book at us for this– the church, the state, the world. We will unite them all against us.”

Purdy: “But we have the mothers. The mothers will back us.”

Jean Purdy was raised a Catholic. When she told her mother what she was working on, her mother shut her out from her life and from her church. Working on IVF was considered a “sin.” When Jean pushed back by asking her mother what she thought of “spectacles and false teeth” and whether she thought that “God wanted people to not be able to see or be able to only eat soup for the rest of their lives.” But there was no logical argument that could have changed the minds of the church during that time.

One would think that the scientific community would have been a bit more open-minded, but the research team encountered resistance from that community as well. Scientific leaders, and important sources of funding for research during that time, argued that there was no true necessity for curing childlessness, given the overpopulation statistics during that time period.

Jean, Patrick, and Bob all firmly believed that every woman who wanted a baby had the right to have one. This fundamental belief kept them fighting through all the external resistance. And when the hundreds of letters from women desiring to participate in their studies, hoping for their own successful pregnancy and birth of a child, their belief in the mission was validated. They were right; they “had the mothers” to support their efforts, and those were the most important voices of all.

The women who showed up to volunteer for their experimental trials kept them going until they finally succeeded with the first baby born via IVF, Louise Joy Brown.

Bill Nighy, Thomasin McKenzie, and James Norton in Joy (2024) | Netflix

Bill Nighy, Thomasin McKenzie, and James Norton in Joy (2024) | Netflix

For those of us in the 1-in-6 club of people who suffer from infertility, a club we never wanted or expected to be part of, IVF is an option available to many of us today only because a group of very brave and selfless women signed up to be the first to offer their bodies for the benefit of science and the possibility for some women, not necessarily themselves, to be “cured” of their infertility.

These study participants called themselves “The Ovum Club,” and they held their “meetings” in a hospital waiting room in England on a regular basis. One-by-one Jean called them into an exam room where they received progesterone injections in their buttocks. Other club “activities” included collecting their urine DAILY over the course of several months to track their hormone cycles in preparation for egg retrieval surgeries and hopefully, eventually, in vitro fertilization of the one magic egg that would become their child.

It may sound like an unusual “club” outside of the fertility community, but those of us in the 1-in-6 club can relate all too well to these activities we endure in our pursuit of having a child.

Today IVF is still somewhat of an experiment—as much an art as it is a science. Perhaps it’s no coincidence that the acronym for “assistive reproductive technologies” is ART. We are still figuring out how this works almost 50 years later. Not every approach works for every woman, and there are now numerous IVF protocols and nuances that continue to be researched, published, tried and tweaked.

In a way, when we, the modern-day “ovum club,” the 1-in-6, submit our bodies, our minds and our hopes to the process of IVF, we are all contributing to the continued development of this science.

But the women who comprised the original Ovum Club command a tremendous amount of respect for what they sacrificed, knowing their chances were even lower when this research was just beginning.

In fact, between 1969 and 1978 the clinical and research team of Patrick Steptoe, Robert Edwards, Jean Purdy, and Nurse-Matron Muriel Harris treated 282 women resulting in 5 pregnancies and 2 successful births.

The Ovum Club women came with a passion and desperation for having their own family and importantly, a fierce streak of empathy that somehow superseded their own desires to where they could say, “if it doesn’t happen for me, at least I’ll have helped future women to achieve their dreams of having a child.”

The movie portrayal of these heroines doesn’t shy away from the reality of human emotions. Even for individuals who are volunteering to participate in research in the name of science, there is always a hope that that science will benefit them. On the other side of that hope is jealousy, pain and despair when the science works for others, but not for them.

In the movie, we see the first member of the Ovum Club become pregnant as a result of IVF. The other members around her embody what many of us have felt–hope that it could happen for us too, and fear that it won’t.

One woman, who is in the same IVF cycle as the pregnant participant, ends up with ovarian hyperstimulation from the hormones and her cycle needs to be canceled. Jean Purdy tries to comfort her and the participant’s emotions get the best of her. She says to Jean, “it’s the hope that kills you.”

There were many scenes in this film that hit my tear ducts with a bullseye. This was one of them.

It’s so true. The hope can kill us sometimes. And the joy often feels impossible to find.

In this movie I found joy and gratitude in the sacrifice of women who laid their bodies and their hopes on a table in a hospital in England more than 50 years ago, not knowing what would happen when they were injected with hormones, when their eggs were retrieved and put in a petri dish, when their embryo was transferred, when it implanted or didn’t, and what their lives would look like when they were told, “thank you for participating, but you no longer qualify to continue on this journey.”

These women were just like us, and we wouldn’t have the options for trying to conceive a baby that we have today without them. Our uncertainties are similar to theirs, with perhaps a bit more knowledge and higher success rates, but still no guarantee.

I also found joy and gratitude for Jean Purdy, as the sole female member of the research team. It was refreshing to see the film really focus on Jean’s contributions. Those of us who have been through fertility treatments will likely agree that the nurses really are the glue that holds us together when we are navigating the tumultuous journey where things inevitably fall apart from our expectations once or twice (or more).

Jean Purdy (1946–1985) | Photo courtesy Barbara Rankin

Jean Purdy (1946–1985) | Photo courtesy Barbara Rankin

As a woman and a nurse, Jean Purdy’s role was often perceived by outsiders as “supportive” rather than instrumental. It was Jean who really saw the women who participated in the IVF research trials not just as experimental test subjects, but as women who wanted nothing more in the world for this experiment to work so they could achieve their dream of being mothers.

It is not known whether Jean Purdy herself suffered from infertility, but in the movie she represents the portion of women for whom IVF would not be possible. This is an important acknowledgement for those whose condition or circumstances would not “qualify” or respond to IVF as a treatment for infertility.

Patrick Steptoe, the surgeon, laments to Jean in one scene that the most painful part of his job is determining which of the hundreds of women seeking his help he can say “yes” to. He grieves for those whose condition will not be cured by IVF.

Patrick: “We see ourselves as the great possibility. We can make the infertile, fertile. But there are still so many women we won’t be able to help. I can’t help thinking that, for them, our existence is just another source of pain.”

Jean, having just been diagnosed by Patrick with severe endometriosis that would prohibit her from finding a cure for her own infertility by the very therapy she is helping to discover, responds with the voice of all who feel left behind, despite the advancements in ART:

“Women presume we can have children. We’re told so. There is a biological and social expectation. Nothing can make the pain of their absence worse. But we have the possibility of making it better. And. Yes, I say that as someone for whom the lifeboat can’t help.”

Jean chose to find the joy in the success of others amidst the carnage of her own hopes.

It’s a delicate balance, hope and joy, particularly in the fertility world. Choosing to see the “helpers” amongst us while we are on this journey, the nurses, the doctors, the researchers, the donors, the people who came before us, may aid in us finding those moments of joy even amidst the pain. I choose joy and gratitude for what they–the “Ovum Club,” Jean Purdy, Patrick Steptoe and Robert Edwards—did for us. They acknowledged us, they fought for us, they made us feel seen, and they literally brought the field of reproductive endocrinology to LIFE.

Danielle PhD scientist, academic researcher, published author, college professor, gymnastics coach, yoga teacher, CrossFit coach, pharmaceutical and biotech medical professional, leader, mentor, people-manager, women’s health researcher and advocate, fertility patient, sexual assault survivor, collegiate and master’s athlete, wife, friend, sister, aunt, teammate, speaker, writer, and of course, WARRIOR. More important than these labels, she defines herself by her values and beliefs. Her core belief is that humans have infinite capacity to change, and that change starts with self-awareness and acknowledgment that although we may not be in control of our circumstances, we are in control of how we react to those circumstances.