When infertility, toxic positivity and prosperity Gospel meet

I still remember the well-meaning people from the church I grew up in who, four years into my infertility journey, offered what they believed was hope. “If you would just go back to having long, uncut hair, only wear dresses, and come back to this church, God would bless you with a baby,” they assured me with absolute certainty. Their eyes shone with conviction as they delivered this message, even though I was walking with Christ and attending church weekly, just not that church. 

What they didn’t understand - what many don’t understand - is that this kind of “encouragement” carries an implicit message: your infertility is something connected to your faith choices. Have enough faith, pray the right prayers, follow the right rules and only then will God reward you with a child. This mindset isn’t limited to any one denomination. While prosperity Gospel teachings are often associated with certain Protestant traditions, I’ve also encountered similar thinking in Catholic circles. If I pray the right novenas, go on the right pilgrimage, have unwavering faith, practice specific devotions, and seek intercession from the right saints, then surely motherhood will follow.

Subtle infiltration

This prosperity-tinged thinking infiltrates our thinking in subtle ways. It’s rarely as blatant as “God wants you to be rich”. Instead, it manifests in the quiet assumption that faithful people will be rewarded with their heart’s desires in this lifetime. For those of us navigating infertility, this mindset creates a painful spiritual burden. Each month that passes becomes not just a medical disappointment but potentially a spiritual failure. Did I not pray enough? Is my faith lacking? Am I being punished for past sins? With this perspective, the burden is all on us and our works instead of our faith in Him. 

The truth is that this thinking distorts the actual message of Christianity. Even Jesus was not exempt from suffering. Throughout scripture, we see faithful people who suffered greatly. We are told explicitly that in this world, we will have suffering. Paul writes of a "thorn in the flesh" God chose not to remove, revealing that "power is made perfect in weakness" (2 Cor. 12:7-10). Peter urges us not to be surprised by trials but to rejoice in sharing Christ's sufferings (1 Peter 4:12-13), while James encourages us to view difficulties as opportunities for growth (James 1:2-4). These passages never equate faith with prosperity. Instead, they assure us of God's presence within our suffering, working toward purposes beyond what we can see.

Social media’s amplification effect

Our culture’s toxic positivity finds its perfect expression in social media, where everyone’s life appears perfectly curated. We scroll through pregnancy announcements, gender reveals and first birthdays while sitting in waiting rooms for yet another fertility appointment. Popular self-help gurus with their best-selling books and mega-church pastors with their perpetual smiles represent this cultural current: if you just try hard enough, believe strongly enough and stay positive enough, your dreams will come true. Their messages, amplified through millions of followers, create a narrative that suffering is optional if your faith is strong enough. This digital landscape makes it nearly impossible to hold grief and hope in tension. We’re either #blessed, or we’re failing. There’s little room for the messy middle where most of us live. 

Toxic positivity often disguises itself as encouragement. It appears in phrases like “Just relax and it will happen,” “Everything happens for a reason,” or “God never gives you more than you can handle.” These statements, while well-intentioned, dismiss the complexity of suffering and imply that our pain results from improper faith or attitude. 

The incomplete biblical narrative

One particularly painful manifestation of toxic positivity and prosperity Gospel in Christian infertility circles is the emphasis that every couple in scripture who experienced infertility eventually had a child. Sarah, Hannah, Elizabeth and Rachel's stories all end with the miracle of conception. 

The Bible was written in a specific time and place for a specific people. Having a child was the ultimate sign of God’s grace and blessing to the ancient Israelites. When the barren women in the Bible have a baby, it is the way of showing God’s love and care for them. God did not redeem these women through their wombs. God redeemed them through his love.

We should remember that for every barren woman turned mother in scripture, many others were never blessed with children. For every Sarah whose laughter of joy echoed through her tent, countless unnamed women carried the weight of childlessness in silence. Their stories aren’t recorded in Scripture, but their experiences were no less real, their faith no less valuable, and their relationship with God no less profound. These hidden figures remind us of an essential truth: God’s love and redemption were never actually dependent on the fruit of their womb. 

When we present only the “success stories,” we inadvertently suggest that those still waiting simply haven’t waited long enough or prayed hard enough. We create a false equation: faithfulness plus time equals children. This is heartbreaking for those who may never conceive, reinforcing the idea that their continued infertility somehow reflects a spiritual deficiency. 

Hope vs outcomes 

When prosperity Gospel thinking infiltrates our faith, we measure God's goodness by our circumstances. Breaking free requires a fundamental shift in perspective from seeing our journey as a means to becoming a mother. Our culture has programmed us to believe everything will work out according to our desires if we maintain the right mindset and faith. How do we retain authentic hope without falling into toxic positivity?

Remaining hopeful while navigating infertility requires a delicate balance that rejects toxic positivity and despair. True openness to life means approaching each day neither demanding specific outcomes nor closing ourselves off from unexpected possibilities. It means acknowledging our pain honestly while believing God works within it. This isn’t the shallow optimism that prosperity Gospel teachings promote, where faith becomes a transaction for desired outcomes. This perspective doesn’t erase the pain of infertility, but it does create space for meaning and purpose to flourish alongside it.

The culture of toxic positivity and prosperity Gospel offers a tempting but ultimately hollow promise: that we can control our outcomes through the right spiritual formula. The truth is more complex and more freeing. We are not in control, but we are deeply loved by the One who is. We only need to make room for doubt alongside belief, tears alongside alleluias, questions alongside affirmations, and waiting alongside receiving.

Carrying the cross of infertility has taught me that authentic faith isn't about maintaining a perpetually positive outlook or following the right spiritual formula to get what I want. There have been moments when prosperity Gospel thinking tempted me to believe that if I just prayed harder or believed more strongly, God would give me the desires of my heart. After all, motherhood is a natural, God-given desire, so why would He not fulfill that?

I've learned to embrace a more nuanced faith that doesn't demand answers to every question or resolution for every pain. This kind of faith acknowledges the tension between the "already" and the "not yet" while celebrating what God has done and acknowledging what remains unfulfilled. May we all find the courage to reject the false comfort and embrace the authentic hope that comes from knowing that God is present in our joy and suffering.