THERE IS A moment in every IVF journey where the noise fades away, and the silence takes over.
You sit in waiting rooms filled with strangers whose stories you will never know. You get to grips with a new language of injections, scans and blood tests. You wait for phone calls that can change your entire future. And at the same time, life continues around you as normal, oblivious to the fact that you are going through something extraordinary.
For me, that journey began with quiet determination over 18 months ago, at the end of 2024.
Today, as I write this at over four months pregnant, I feel a huge sense of gratitude and excitement. But I also feel a responsibility to speak honestly about the road it took to get here – not only because I am a politician, but because far too many women in Ireland still go through fertility treatment in silence.
The push to become a mum
Regardless of whether I was in a relationship, regardless of my career, regardless of the many twists life can take, I always wanted to be a mother. Eventually, I reached a point where I realised I could either continue waiting for the “perfect” circumstances, of which there is no guarantee, or I could make a decision for myself and my future family.
Time, of course, played a role in this decision – I am a woman in my late 30s. However, beyond this, I felt many other factors in my life had aligned. I have a home, a supportive family, financial stability and a career that I love representing people across the Midlands North-West in the European Parliament.
So following hours of research, therapy and introspection, I made the decision to begin IVF. This is not an uncommon experience, as borne out by the statistics. It’s estimated that one in six people worldwide experience infertility, with approximately 6,000 IVF cycles carried out in Ireland every year.
Yet despite how common fertility treatment has become, we fail to see it properly represented in the media or in our politics. The term ‘IVF’ was mentioned only a handful of times in Dáil Éireann last year, while in private, we continue to speak about it in hushed tones.
Taking the steps
I remember sitting in the waiting room of my clinic in Galway, looking around at how many people were going through a similar journey in silence. Couples. Single women. Same-sex couples. All of us trying to hold onto optimism while managing the emotional and physical toll that comes with treatment.
IVF is so often spoken about clinically, but there is nothing clinical about the emotions involved – the deep fear, the excitement and the desperate hope for good news.
There is also the financial reality. As a single woman, I was not entitled to any financial support from the State. While the government has made meaningful progress on fertility care in recent years, the overall system does not currently reflect the reality of modern Irish families. Single women, including myself, and many LGBTQI+ families are excluded from the state-funded IVF support that others can readily access.
In addition, LGBTQI+ couples face many legal and parental challenges when undergoing fertility treatments, as do parents of children born by surrogacy. If I were in a relationship and my partner decided to carry our child, in a case where we decided to carry out our treatment abroad, I may not automatically have legal parental status and would likely need to adopt our child to secure my own parental rights, creating additional financial and emotional turmoil.
Legislation for a modern family
While families look very different now than they did a generation ago, there can still be judgment attached to single motherhood, particularly for women in public life.
I have already experienced commentary about my appearance during this process because of weight fluctuation and the physical impact of treatment. I have chosen to speak about this publicly because I want women considering a career in politics to know they do not have to choose between ambition and family.
The lesson I have taken from this journey is not only about fertility. It is about the resilience women carry every day, often without recognition. And it is about the change we desperately need – change across society, policy and healthcare.
For other women quietly going through IVF right now, I hope this conversation helps in some small way to remove the stigma of guilt, fear and at times, anguish.
And for anyone questioning whether there is only one “right” way to build a family, I hope my story offers reassurance that love, commitment and community matter far more than convention ever will.
Maria Walsh is a Fine Gael MEP for the Midlands-North West, and is a member of the European People’s Party (EPP) in the European Parliament.