Babies and the decision to have or not to have them are part of every human’s life in some way. But in romance, the way having children or not having children is handled rarely reflects reality.

I confess, I’ve never understood why we can’t discuss abortion. Perhaps it’s because I grew up in that era where abortion was legal in the US and it was fairly common. Curious how common? This chart tracks with my own lived experience. While never having had an abortion myself–I was a fiend about birth control in my youth–I’ve had several friends who have, all in the mid and late 80s. It was, when I was young, something that one did if you got pregnant and you weren’t ready. Several of the couples I knew who decided to get an abortion later married and had kids. In my social circle I know of no one who regrets having made that choice. That’s just my experience, not one I claim is true for all, but it does make me wonder why we can’t, in romance, write a love story where a woman chooses not to go through a pregnancy.

I’m also someone who is married to an adoptee–I’ve written some about that here.

Lastly, three of my four children were born with the help of fertility drugs. My husband and I, when I was 28, started trying to conceive. After a year, we consulted an infertility specialist. On the second cycle of Pergonal, I got pregnant with our first child. My second child was conceived  au naturel–which explains why there are only 17 months between my first two. After a few years, I was ready to try again and this time, after six months of no luck, I again tried Pergonal and conceived my twins on the first round. I was lucky–my insurance covered it all, all my children were full-term and healthy.

Thus, I feel pretty comfortable talking about abortion, adoption, and infertility. And I’m rarely happy with how any of these issues are typically handled in romance. Either children are easy to come by–the surprise pregnancy is a staple of romance and there are countless epilogues with super blissful parents and kids. Abortion is almost unheard of–I am grateful that is no longer true–as much–for birth control. And adoption too is rare and when it does occur, it’s usually an easy gift for all. True infertility is almost non-existent.

There are exceptions.

Zoe York handles abortion well in her contemporary romance, Fearless at Heart. In it, a couple reunites in later life–they’d been high school sweethearts. January had gotten pregnant and had opted for an abortion. Seth supported her through that but then they’d chosen–mostly he’d chosen–separate lives. Now they have a second shot at love and, perhaps, conceiving again. They talk about the baby they didn’t have and while both acknowledge the sadness of this decision, they both believe it was the right choice. They are at peace with their past and it doesn’t get in the way of their current shot at happiness. Fearless at Heart is the only book we have tagged with abortion and, honestly, I can’t think of another. (It doesn’t appear that any of the books we have tagged as unplanned pregnancy have abortion as the chosen outcome.) Nor have I seen books that incorporate RU- 486 into their storylines. Given the rising use of this–we will, of course see where America lands with medical abortion over the next year given the Supreme Court’s ruling last year–I wonder at its lack as well.

As for adoption, I’ve read a fair number of books where a baby is given up for adoption: The Sweetest Thing and What the Librarian Did come to mind. I’ve read romances with fostered children that are happy stories: books like Scandalous Desires and Seduce Me at Sunrise. In Kristan Higgins’ latest, A Little Ray of Sunshine, she shows the perspectives of all parties in an adoption–the birth mom, the adoptive parents, and the child. But most of the romance novels I’ve read, if the heroine gets knocked up, she keeps the baby.

Infertility is also unusual in romance and, when it does exist, it’s often magically cured by the right partner. (This makes me NUTS.) More recently, infertility is being easily cured by medicine–I recently read an upcoming book where a forty-nine year old heroine decided she was finally ready for kids and a few clinic visits later, she was pregnant. Given that there’s a one percent chance of getting pregnant at forty-nine with one’s own eggs, I’d say that book truly is a fantasy romance. I guess I’d like to see romance novels handle infertility a bit more realistically although I do understand the genre routinely traffics in wish fulfillment and I support that.

I’m looking for books that handle any of these issues well–and, yes, well is in the eyes of the reader. (It should go without saying that the opinions expressed in this piece are mine and mine alone and do not reflect those of anyone other than me or of AAR.) Do you know of any? If so, share the in the comments. And, as usual, be kind to one another. At AAR, we are open to–as long as you do not attack anyone–all sorts of perspectives. Thanks!

Similar Posts

0 Comments

  1. I would love to see a historical romance which deals with the hero’s infertility. Of all the books I’ve read, it’s always been the heroine who, with a single exception (Courtney Milan’s The Countess Conspiracy), discovers via a surprise pregnancy that it was actually her evil dead husband who was the infertile one. Given that there wasn’t a vaccine against mumps back in the day, it would be a simple enough matter to cause infertility – and for the story to show that a man doesn’t have to produce biological children to be a hero.

    1. In Lorraine Heath’s Waking Up With The Duke, the husband of the heroine was in a carriage crash and is paralyzed from the waist down and thus can’t sire an heir.

      Even independent of mumps,male infertility is real. The NYT just wrote an article on this: “… about 50 percent of infertility cases, men are either the sole cause or a contributing one.” Additionally, the article added: “Male fertility tends to start declining at age 35 as the body produces fewer and less viable sperm.” 

      1. Unfortunately (for me, anyway), in the Heath book, the husband of the heroine isn’t the hero. The hero, of course, has no such problems.

        Also, Robin Schone wrote a novella where the hero is a eunuch. Lots of historical precedent for that, too.

    2. Not quite what you asked for, but Katherine Kingsley’s A NATURAL ATTACHMENT does have a hero who had mumps. It’s an unusual trad Regency in that it opens with a scene of the hero and his doctor. The doctor tells the hero he has mumps and will be probably be sterile as a result. When shortly thereafter a woman brings him a 2 y.o boy, the result of a brief affair (pre-mumps) whose mother has just died, he takes the boy as his only possible heir. But to make it legal, he gets the heroine to marry him but pretend that the little boy is hers and that they’d married 3 years ago in Jamaica. Edward and Eliza were both scarred by their childhoods, he worse than her, and he’s horrid to her at first. To get back at him, she pretends to be stupid and flightly, and it takes him a long time, plus the prodding of others, to realize what’s going on. In the end, however, it’s rather lovely when they decide to be honest and open with each other, although when Eliza does become pregnant there’s a brief moment when he doubts her again. Happily, that is quickly resolved.

      1. Yes, I thought of exactly this book: Katherine Kingsley’s Natural Attachment – the whole plot is driven by the hero’s infertility due to mumps.

        I love the book – I find it extremely funny how she fights back – but it is old, there is a lot of correctly shown historical values of the times, of pressure on the heroine who cannot avoid the marriage, you wrote clearly how it was, I am not sure I can recommend the book to anyone because I myself might dislike it if I read it first time now. I still reread it with joy,.

        1. Not a historical, but Lucy Gordon wrote Once Upon a Time (Harlequin Romance March 1986), in which Lorenzo, an Italian prince, marries Bronwen, an opera singer, because her son is his heir. Their are no miraculous pregnancies. The book has as much angst as a Harlequin Presents.

  2. Adoption is – for obvious reasons – much more common in m/m romance although in most of the the books I’ve read, the adoptions have already happened, so we don’t get to see the process. One exception is Kaje Harper’s fantastic Life lessons series where the couple adopt a six year old boy after the death of his mother (one MC was already a father figure to him, but there was nothing formal).

    1. Harper’s Life Lessons is a great series, and another example of what I’d call a “forced” adoption (couple falls in love with a kid they know, and choose to adopt rather see them put into foster care). But I thought Harper handled the whole subject really, really well over the course of the series’ two or three books.

      1. It’s not quite like that though – Tony is already in Ben’s life because the boy’s late dad was a good friend and Tony is more a parent to him than his mother is – so he’s part of Tony’s life before Mac even meets him. And of course, Mac has a little girl

        [spoiler title=”spoiler”] who is not actually his biological daughter, but he married her mother to get her out of a terrible situation and put his name on the birth certificate so he would be able to look after her after her mother died. [/spoiler]

        It’s a four book series -if you do audiobooks, the narration by JF Harding is outstanding.

        1. All correct and good points, Caz. Tony and Mac are not out or public as a couple, much less in an established, stable relationship (because Mac is not out to anyone but Tony) when Tony decides he is going to adopt Ben.

          Which is what I mean when I refer to “forced” adoptions in romances: authors regularly put protagonists in positions in which one or both protagonists are faced with non-biologically created children as part of their HEAs. I can think of lots of plots – like this one – with kids who already exist: mail-order brides, single parents – by divorce and/or death, orphaned children being raised by siblings or other relatives or guardians, foster children, etc.

          But what I don’t think I’ve ever read is a romance with protagonists who deliberately choose – either before becoming a couple or as a couple – to go looking for kids to adopt or foster rather than having biological offspring, whether as part of the main plot or mentioned as part of an epilogue.

          1. Ok, I just realized that an argument might be made that the couple who adopted all the “troubled boys” and raised them to adulthood in the Nora Roberts’ Chesapeake series kind of, sort of qualifies as secondary characters – maybe? Even though they are no longer alive in the Roberts’ books, they are very much “revealed” to readers as a loving couple and terrific parents through the now-adult MCs in each book in the series. . .?

  3. Other than the aforementioned FEARLESS AT HEART, the only other romance I can remember where the heroine has had an abortion is JB Salsbury’s FACE THE MUSIC. It’s not a particularly well-written book, but I do have to give Salsbury credit for including the heroine’s decision to terminate a pregnancy in the storyline. In fact, iirc, the heroine has had an earlier abortion some years before and then when she gets pregnant again (this is before she and the hero are romantically involved—although they already know each other, he is not the father), she again chooses to have an abortion. Also, I vaguely recall that one of Clare Connelly’s earlier books (possibly before she started publishing HPs) included a heroine who, in the past, has had an abortion. Again, the hero was not the father. FEARLESS AT HEART is the only romance I’ve read where the heroine terminated a pregnancy where the hero was the father.

  4. I can’t think of a single romance I’ve read with an abortion or infertility issue in it but there are many “forced” adoption/guardian-themed titles. Three that immediately come to mind are:

    Nora Roberts Chesapeake series (CR series of four books, all four heros were adopted as kids and are now grownup men who fall in love).

    Jo Goodman’s A Place Called Home and Susan Wiggs’ Table for Five have the same set up in these CRs: the MCs are barely acquainted with one another but were named as guardians to a mutual couple’s three orphaned kids. I enjoyed both.

    I’m sure I’ve read others, but it isn’t a trope I’ve coded for in my reading journal, so I’ll have to think on it some more and see if there are any others. What I haven’t read is a romance in which the couple choose to adopt rather than have their own kids, and I’d love to read one.

  5. In Tammara Webber’s Between the Lines series, there are several characters who experienced teen pregnancy and made different choices – adoption, parenthood, and abortion. All are treated as reasonable decisions and Webber explores the implications this has had for the characters. 

    The last of the Riggs Brothers series by Julie Kriss – I think it’s called Make Me Beg – has a heroine who was unable to conceive with her first husband ad is trying again on her own. This is not resolved via the hero’s magical dick, and in the epilogue [spoiler title=”spoiler”] they have a baby after two rounds of IVF [/spoiler] .

  6. Very brave, Dabney, even to bring this subject up. After reading the article (link below) on the BBC website about Kristan Hawkins, I wondered if anyone in the USA dared talk about abortion any more from a right to choose perspective. I can’t recall having read a romance novel with it as even an obscure side issue but perhaps there are one or two I have missed. In view of the overturning of Roe v Wade, I wonder if any romance author will have the guts to do so. I hope very much that the subject won’t be considered too hot to handle. For any who have followed the BBC series Call the Midwife, they will know it’s not a topic that should be avoided and it was very well dealt with several times over the years.

    She helped kill Roe v Wade – now she wants to end abortion in America – BBC News

    1. I think it’s clear America can talk about abortion. We poll actually pretty consistently–abortion in the first 12 weeks is fine with a wide majority of the US.

      from today’s WSJ:

      Look at Gallup’s survey data posted last week. Americans say abortion should be generally legal during the first three months of pregnancy, 69% to 24%. But for the second three months the majority flips: 55% say illegal, and only 37% say legal. 

      That said, boycotts terrify businesses and there are enough very loud voices that have made businesses unwilling to incorporate abortion into their products–typically media. This is currently also happening with Pride events, another thing most Americans are just fine with.

      Furthermore, in my mind, just as one can choose not to watch a violent show or a deeply sexist one, one can choose not to read a book or see a movie that has abortion or, for that matter, adorable moppets in it.

      So, really, I don’t feel brave at all. I feel pragmatic!

      1. I think you just answered your own question, though, Dabney: only the most successful author would even consider such a plot point (abortion) because who needs the bad press or wants to risk alienating readers?

        Suzanne Brockmann is an example of this. She risked her readership when she expanded Jules’ role and began to explore his personal (romantic) life in her Troubleshooter series. She was criticized both for giving a gay character a romantic life (by people who thought/think lgbtq people just shouldn’t talk about it (that they have romantic lives) and she was criticized by other readers who “were just fine” with lgbtq romance MCs but felt her books had become political screeds and they didn’t want to be lectured. Maybe she was just a poor writer and a better one could have avoided sounding like they were lecturing readers, but I think abortion in a romance would elicit very similar reactions. It’s easier to just avoid the topic altogether.

        BTW, we are seeing the same type of action being taken by teachers and school librarians over book banning. I personally know a first-grade teacher (in a very liberal community, where there has been no concerted public effort to ban anything to date, I might add) who had an extensive and very inclusive, diverse classroom library. But she went through it before the start of school last fall because she just doesn’t have the bandwidth to handle one more issue/fight with parents or school administrators. It is just easier to avoid the fight.

        The one exception – on abortion in romances IMO – going forward may be the inclusion of some plot points where pregnant characters’ lives either are (or are not) saved by healthcare providers in emergency situations. But it would be at least a step forward from where we are now.

        1. Well, I’m hoping just by talking about it and praising York’s touch that we might move the needle somewhere, just a tiny bit.

  7. Just popping back in to say that I grabbed CD Reiss’s CROWNE JEWEL this morning—and the blurb includes a reference to the heroine having had an abortion in the past “that no one feels guilty about.” I’ll be interested to see how Reiss (who is, imho, right up there with Julie Kriss for being one of the most underrated writers in Romancelandia) handles that aspect of the story.

      1. Just finished CROWNE JEWEL yesterday and popping back in to say that I thought the past abortion (chemical) plot line was well-handled. The hero was the father, but the heroine was not ready for a child at that point in her life. The heroine’s decision to terminate her pregnancy isn’t dwelt upon and doesn’t play a significant role in the story (which is more focused on social media, hacking, and stalking), but it is presented, without a lot of drama or angst, as simply a thing that happened in the heroine’s past.

  8. I’m adopted and I avoid books that deal with adoption because I assume it will be handled poorly. For many adopted people, adoption is (amongst other things) a trauma with long-lasting impacts. This is rarely addressed, and the focus is usually on the happy experiences of the adopting parents, or perhaps the grief of the parents giving up their child.

    1. It is a complex thing. I often think it’s one of those things we long for it to be one way and, when it isn’t, that makes it so much harder.

Leave a Reply to June Cancel reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *