Test-tube baby Louise Brown at 40
Louise Brown, the world’s first test-tube tot, has just celebrated her 40th birthday
GIVING birth always feels like a miracle – holding a brand-new life in your arms, marvelling at the tiny fingers and toes, hearing the cry of the creature you brought into the world . . . It’s lumpin-the-throat stuff.
But for one couple it was more than a miracle: it helped change the course of history 40 years ago.
Thanks to John and Lesley Brown’s daughter there are now at least eight million women on Earth who’ve become mothers when they ’d thought all hope of conceiving was lost.
These days in-vitro fertilisation (IVF) is a common term for a procedure many couples turn to in the hope of having a biological child. But in 1978 it was nothing short of groundbreaking – medical science at its most cutting edge.
Louise Joy Brown, the world’s first test-tube baby, made headlines around the world and appeared on the cover of dozens of magazines. Time magazine called the child’s birth “the most awaited in perhaps 2 000 years”.
And today Louise remains acutely aware of her remarkable place in the history books. To coincide with her 40th birthday on 25 July she penned an essay for the UK newspaper The Independent, in which she paid tribute to the revolutionary technology that gave her life.
“IVF in its many forms brings hope for people in despair that they’ll never have a child,” she says. “So many things have changed in the decades that have gone by, but the desire for couples to have babies hasn’t.”
Louise prefers to be known as an “IVF baby” as no test tubes were used.
Instead her conception came courtesy of a large glass jar called a desiccator, which is on display at the Science Museum in London.
It was all made possible after her parents put their faith in Patrick Steptoe and Robert Edwards, British scientists who’d been searching for a solution to female infertility since the late ’60s.
Louise says her mom was more than willing to become a guinea pig for their then-experimental treatment after becoming depressed due to her inability to have children.
“When I was born, Patrick and Robert suggested my middle name be Joy. They
‘They said my birth would bring joy to so many people’
said my birth would bring joy to so many people.
“Forty years and millions of babies later, many will agree they were right.”
LOUISE’S birth might have been greeted with fanfare from many quarters but there was plenty of criticism too. Conservative groups regarded it as a wacky experiment that messed with nature and Steptoe and Edwards were decried by religious groups as doctors playing God to produce “Frankenbabies”.
The Browns were also berated for being publicity-seeking.
“By turning the birth of their own child into a media event, the Browns have degraded and institutionalised the child and for that act, not for their act of medically assisted birth, the Browns should be viewed as symbols of the degeneration of Western morals,” a reader’s letter to Time magazine said at the time.
But Louise is insistent her parents didn’t have a choice about making the birth public.
“If they hadn’t they would’ve had people asking, ‘Why can’t we see her? What’s wrong with her?’ Patrick and Robert needed the birth to be public. Had there been anything at all wrong with me, it would’ve been the end of IVF.”
It was also necessary to photograph the caesarean birth so the public could see Lesley’s damaged fallopian tubes – the reason she couldn’t conceive – and realise Steptoe and Edwards’ work wasn’t a hoax.
Before the miracle of Louise, the two doctors had given IVF treatment to 282 women and, although five had conceived, none gave birth to a live baby.
But after Louise’s birth their success rate grew. Four years later Lesley and John welcomed a second daughter, Natalie, also conceived via IVF – the world’s 40th “test tube baby”.
In her essay, Louise acknowledges there will always be criticism of the process.
“Certainly my mom would never have imagined what my birth would lead to,” she says. Forty years on, other scientists are pushing the boundaries, embryologists are inventing new techniques and moral questions are still being asked.”
TODAY Louise leads a quiet life in southwestern England with her husband, nightclub doorman Wesley Mullinder, and sons Cameron (11) and Aiden (4) – both of whom were conceived naturally. Lesley died in 2012 at the age of 64 after complications arising from a gallbladder infection. But she lived to the pleasure of grandchildren and had a full life, Louise says. Louise counts her blessings because she could conceive children without medical intervention, she adds. “Every day women and men start out on this journey. First they have to pluck up the courage to say things aren’t working for them in the most intimate part of their lives. They must share their troubles with doctors and specialists. Some hide it from their closest friends and family. “They may need something simple or they may need operations – as my mom did – before IVF can even be attempted. These days there are diets, drugs, computer printouts and even robotics, and it’s difficult for someone at the centre of all of this to keep focused on their real desire – to be able to cradle their own baby in their arms.” But she urges people to persevere. Despite the criticism her parents endured, she says her mom never regretted her decision. “Even up to her last days she was proud of who she was and what she did.” Louise says to this day she gets people coming up to her to thank her and her mom for pioneering the way for IVF. “It makes you tear up,” she says. “To the men and women going through IVF, I say, ‘Never give up hope.’ To the doctors and embryologists I say, ‘Keep up the good work.’ And to all those involved in getting IVF to this stage I say, ‘Thank you for all you’ve done on behalf of the millions of babies.’ ”