25-03-2025
Nevada's new bill protecting IVF is a win for families like mine
In vitro fertilization process. (Photo by Antonio)
Nineteen months ago, I held my son Hudson for the first time. His tiny fingers wrapped around mine, and in that moment, a year of heartbreak, loss, and longing faded into the background. Hudson was here and he was ours.
For families like mine, assisted reproduction is not a luxury; it is a necessity. Yet many face overwhelming financial and legal barriers just to have a chance at parenthood. That's why I am relieved and grateful that Nevada is stepping up to protect families like mine with new legislation ensuring access to assisted reproduction. This bill does more than just safeguard our reproductive rights—it protects the very existence of children like Hudson and ensures that hopeful parents won't be denied the chance to have a family of their own.
Assisted reproduction is under attack across the country, and Nevada is taking the right stand to protect families like mine. SB217 from Senate Majority Leader Nicole Cannizzaro isn't just about policy—it's about real people, real children, and real futures. I support this bill because without access to fertility care, my son Hudson wouldn't be here. This bill ensures that no government entity can impose unnecessary burdens on accessing fertility treatments, fertility drugs, or other reproductive services. It guarantees that doctors can provide the care they are trained for without fear of legal retaliation. It prevents insurance companies from imposing arbitrary barriers to fertility treatments. And, perhaps most importantly, it affirms that a fertilized egg outside the womb is not a person under Nevada law—preventing dangerous legal interpretations that could disrupt access to care.
When my husband and I first began trying to conceive, we were filled with hope. We tried for a year, because they make you wait a full year before even referring you to a fertility specialist—it's right there in the paperwork. Doctor visits, fertility tests, and failed attempts left us emotionally and financially drained.
The next step was medical intervention. I started Clomid pills, my husband had Clomid shots, and we underwent countless tests for unexplained infertility. Before moving to intrauterine insemination (IUI) or IVF, my doctor suggested trying acupuncture as a less invasive option. We took that route first, but much of the process felt dictated by cost rather than medical necessity. If you could afford to go straight to egg retrieval, you did. If that was out of reach, IUI was the next best option. If even that was financially impossible, you were told to try medications and come back. The illusion of choice was frustrating—I still have all the paperwork outlining those financial hurdles.
We did what we could, hoping for the best, and whether it was the acupuncture, the medication, or just luck, Hudson finally made his way into our lives.
None of it was covered by insurance. As a type-1 diabetic, my pre-existing condition precluded my insurance from covering my procedures and testing, making an already difficult journey even more challenging. We spent $4,000 just for testing, medication, and imaging alone, before even considering more advanced treatments like IUI or IVF. Every test, every medication, every acupuncture session came out of our own pockets. We spent thousands of dollars, all while knowing that if those treatments didn't work, the financial burden of IUI or IVF would only grow. And yet, despite the pain, the cost, and the uncertainty, we had hope, because medical science gave us an opportunity that nature denied us.
But now, that hope is under attack across the country. From lawmakers trying to limit access to fertility treatments to court rulings threatening the very definition of embryos, our right to build our families through assisted reproduction is in jeopardy. We saw this happen in Alabama, where a recent court ruling classified frozen embryos as children, prompting some fertility clinics to pause operations out of fear of legal repercussions. Such policies don't just impact hypothetical scenarios; they hurt real families—families like mine.
That's why Nevada's new protections for assisted reproduction are so critical. This bill ensures that no government entity can impose unnecessary burdens on accessing fertility treatments, fertility drugs, or other reproductive services. It guarantees that doctors can provide the care they are trained for without fear of legal retaliation. It prevents insurance companies from imposing arbitrary barriers to fertility treatments. And, perhaps most importantly, it affirms that a fertilized egg outside the womb is not a person under Nevada law—preventing dangerous legal interpretations that could disrupt access to care.
For parents like me, this legislation is not about politics—it is about our children. It is about ensuring that people facing infertility or medical conditions that threaten their reproductive future still have a path to parenthood. It is about guaranteeing that no one has to hear the words 'I'm sorry, but the treatment you need is no longer available.'
Hudson is a joyful, thriving toddler who loves his TonieBox, puzzles, and snuggling up for bedtime stories. He is the reason I fight to protect access to assisted reproduction—because every child like Hudson deserves the chance to exist. Every parent who longs for a baby should have access to the medical care that makes that dream possible.
Nevada is leading the way in protecting fertility care. Other states should follow its example. Because no family should have to wonder if their child's existence is up for debate.
