‘I loved my church – until infertility made it unbearable’

It’s commonly said that around 20 per cent of a congregation do 80 per cent of the work. If that’s true, Debbie and Ed Newson were firmly among that 20 per cent at their Baptist church in Cambridgeshire.

Ed regularly led worship. Debbie preached and served on the leadership team. For twelve years, church wasn’t just where they worshipped – it was their home and their main source of friendship and community.

“My church family was everything,” Debbie says. “They meant the world to me.”

But slowly, things began to change. The couple longed to have children but found they could not. During this time Debbie fell pregnant twice – and miscarried both times. It was devastating.

The pattern continued for months – then years. “It’s not like a car crash that happens in an instant, but rather a slow progression,” she explains of the trauma that steadily grew as a result.

When her church friends started having children, the situation became even more difficult. “They would be having chats about their kids, and we were pushed out to the sidelines. Gradually we lost friendships.” 

For Debbie, reminders of her pain were everywhere on a Sunday – notices about children’s groups, prayers for expectant mothers, well-meaning celebrations of new life. Each Mother’s Day brought its own, particular grief.

Eight years into their struggle, she was feeling “ground down” and “mentally and emotionally exhausted”. 

Rock bottom

One day, Debbie and Ed were visited by their closest friends and co-leaders of their home group. They came with news. “They said: ‘We’re having a baby.’ I sat there eking out the words of a prayer that I didn’t mean. That was the point infertility broke me. I’d hit the bottom of this pit, and I couldn’t get out.” 

That night her decision was made. “I had to stop going to church. I couldn’t go anymore.”

For the first time in her adult life, church was no longer at the centre of Debbie’s world. There were other losses too. “I couldn’t pray, I couldn’t read the Bible, I couldn’t sing worship songs.

A really common reaction to infertility is avoidance

“I ended up going on walks in the countryside – just me and God walking in silence and me saying: ‘God, help me. I don’t know what to do.’ That was my faith.”

It may not have looked like much but, under the surface, a positive shift in Debbie’s relationship with God was taking place. “For years I’d been taught you must read your Bible, you must worship, you must pray, you must go to church and do all these things. Suddenly, none of that was necessary for me.”

As silent prayers turned into quietly whispered ones, a new faith slowly emerged. No longer was Debbie’s Christianity expressed through being on countless rotas or serving to the point of burnout. Instead, she found Jesus in quietness, stillness and contemplation.

“I was rediscovering God and stripping away the religion and all the stuff that’s not necessary.” 

Blamed for grief 

But not everyone understood Debbie’s journey. And a lack of understanding soon gave way to judgement. Shouldn’t Debbie have “[rejoiced] with those who rejoice” (Romans 12:15) – and been happy for her friends who were pregnant? And wasn’t the answer to be found in returning to Christian community, not running away from it? 

“There was one awful time when I hadn’t been to church for so long, and someone said: ‘Come along, you’ll be so welcome.’ So, I did, and afterwards one of the elders said: ‘I want to talk to you.’ He sat us down and said: ‘How you’re responding to [your friend’s] pregnancy is totally wrong. You’re sinning. You need to come along to church and get over it.’

“I sensed that attitude from a lot of people, and I carried that guilt and shame from their criticism and judgement for 15 years. I kept thinking that my attitude was wrong and I felt guilty.”

The turning point came after Debbie began studying the psychological effects of infertility. “A really common reaction to infertility is avoidance,” she explains. “You see that in post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD).

“That’s why I stopped going to church. That’s why people going through infertility will stop going to friendship groups or even family events where someone’s pregnant, because you avoid the thing that’s causing the trauma.

“It’s the same as the person from the war zone who cannot go to the firework party.”

Getting it right

Looking back, Debbie believes there were simple ways her church could have supported her better.

“People being there, not to offer advice, but to simply say they were there for us. That when we were ready to come back, they would welcome us. That they accepted us even though we were being changed by our trauma.”

She also believes church leaders need to understand fertility trauma and its psychological impact. Many churches still treat infertility as disappointment rather than recognising it as genuine trauma, she says.

“There was this deep, intense grief from this thing that you’ve wanted so much, but you’ve been denied. It’s your deepest dream. The sense of loss is incredible.”

Simple acts such as taking communion to a person’s home “so they do not have to attend church and potentially be triggered” can go a long way, she says. 

“And definitely not casting judgement on how they cope, because if you do, you will never see that person in your church again.” 

Back to church

Gradually, healing has come. Debbie’s dream of having children hasn’t come to pass, but slowly, new dreams have emerged, she says. She’s found joy in travelling the world with her husband, pursuing a master’s degree in theology and taking up ultra marathon running. “It’s no longer the case that every time someone mentions they’re pregnant, we have a crisis.” 

Debbie may have experienced deep pain in a Christian community, but she hasn’t given up on church. She now attends an Anglican church, and says she’s finding depth and healing in its rhythms and liturgy.

By sharing her story, she hopes churches will think more carefully before judging those whose absence may be rooted not in sin, but in trauma.  

The Unexpected Journey: How travelling the world gave us freedom after infertility by Debbie Newson will be published later this year