How to Fundraise for IVF When Asking Feels Impossible
Deciding whether to ask, who to ask first, and what to actually say
There is a particular dread that arrives before you ask anyone for money. It shows up late at night, after you have added the clinic estimate to the medication quote, compared the total to your savings for the third time that week, and watched the gap refuse to move.
You already know what that gap costs you. What you may not know is whether asking your people to help close it is something you can live with. That is the real question, and it deserves an answer before any tactical advice is worth reading.
First, decide whether to fundraise at all
Some people should not fundraise, and it is worth saying so plainly. If your family relationships are already strained by the subject of your fertility, a public campaign can make that worse before it makes anything better. If you are not ready for people to know, a fundraiser will tell them. If your partner is a firm no, finish that conversation first.
But one version of this decision deserves more scrutiny than it gets: the reflexive no, arrived at in about four seconds on the grounds that this is private and other people have real problems.
That reflex is worth slowing down. Infertility is not rare — the World Health Organization estimates that around 17.5% of adults, roughly one in six worldwide, experience it in their lifetime, and WHO notes plainly that "millions of people face catastrophic healthcare costs after seeking treatment for infertility." You are not asking your community to subsidize an indulgence. You are asking for help with a medical expense insurance mostly does not cover.
And it mostly does not. RESOLVE: The National Infertility Association counts 25 states with infertility insurance laws and only 15 with IVF mandates — and those mandates do not reach self-insured employer plans, which is how a great many Americans get coverage. Costs vary enormously by clinic and protocol: according to Advanced Fertility Center of Chicago's published 2026 breakdown, one IVF cycle runs roughly $20,000 to $25,000 or more once medications, monitoring, and lab fees are counted, with the source noting out-of-pocket estimates in that range as well. Most people need more than one cycle.
Not an indulgence, and not a small gap. Decide accordingly.
What the research actually says about crowdfunding
Here is the part most guides skip. Knowing it will make you better at this, not worse.
The largest study of medical crowdfunding in the United States — Kenworthy and Igra, in the American Journal of Public Health in 2022 — examined 437,596 GoFundMe campaigns run for medical reasons between 2016 and 2020. Together they raised more than $2 billion. But the median campaign raised $1,970 toward an $8,000 goal, from 24 donors, and in 2020 only 12% met their goal while 16% received no donations at all.
That is sobering, and it is the most useful thing to know before you start, because of why it happens. The researchers are direct about the mechanism: "Because most crowdfunding campaigns rely on donations from social networks, and networked wealth can vary by socioeconomic status, campaigners from lower socioeconomic status groups have fewer networked resources on which to draw."
Crowdfunding is not a crowd. It is your network, and the networks your network can reach. Nobody is browsing fundraising sites looking for a stranger to fund, and any guide telling you to optimize your title for search is selling a fantasy about strangers who are not coming.
The first gifts matter more than all the ones after
If the money comes from your network, the shape of your campaign gets set in the first few days by a handful of people. Economist Jonathan Meer studied university giving campaigns and found that "social ties play a strong causal role in the decision to donate and the average gift size." That research was conducted on university fundraising, not medical crowdfunding specifically, but it points to a pattern many fundraising organizers report anecdotally: being asked by someone you actually know may change both whether people give and how much.
The practical version: a page showing $0 asks a visitor to go first, which is a far larger request than it looks. A page with four gifts and two warm comments asks them to join something already happening. Same page, same story, different social weight.
So before you share publicly, make a short list: five to ten people who already know what you are going through, who would be hurt to hear it secondhand, and who can give without strain. Message them individually, before the page goes near social media, and let those gifts land before you broadcast.
What to actually write in the first message
The instinct is to write something polished. Resist it — a polished mass message reads as a mass message. A one-to-one ask has four parts and takes about six sentences:
- Say the thing. "We've been trying to have a baby for two years. We start IVF in October."
- Say the number. "The cycle is about $21,000 and our insurance covers none of it."
- Make the actual ask. "I'm asking a few people close to us to help us get started before we share it more widely. Would you be willing to give something?"
- Give them an exit. "If it's not a good time, I completely understand and it won't be weird between us."
That last line is not a formality. It is what makes the ask survivable for both of you — the difference between a request and a corner.
Two notes on tone. Do not apologize four times — one acknowledgment that this is hard to ask is enough; more makes the other person manage your discomfort instead of answering your question. And do not soften the number into vagueness. "Any little bit helps" gets you $10 from someone who would have given $500 had you said what you needed.
How to tell your story honestly
The page is a different job than the ask. The ask is one to one; the page is what your people forward to their people. Write it as though explaining things to one friend who has been out of touch for a year. Specifics over sentiment: how long, what you have tried, what the doctor said, what this cycle involves, what the money pays for. Specifics are what make your cousin's coworker decide you are real.
You do not owe anyone your full medical history. Choose your line and hold it — "we've had three losses" is a complete sentence. Decide in advance what stays off the page, because it is much harder to walk something back once it is public.
If the writing itself is the obstacle, why telling your infertility story matters is a useful companion piece on getting the first words out.
Updating people without performing
Most campaigns die quietly — not because supporters stopped caring, but because the organizer stopped posting and everyone assumed it had resolved itself.
An update every two or three weeks is plenty. Short and factual: what happened, what is next, what you still need. "Retrieval is Thursday. We're $4,000 short on medication." Facts give people a reason to act; a generic thank-you does not.
Update after hard news too, when you can bear it. A campaign that reports only good news reads like a performance, and people feel it. Thank people individually, by name, where you can — it is the main reason second gifts happen.
The awkwardness is real. Here is what helps.
Some people will not give, and some of them will be people you counted on. That is genuinely painful, and it is almost always about their bank account, their inbox, or their own history with this subject — none of which you can see.
- Give to your own fundraiser first. It takes the page off zero and signals you have skin in this.
- Let someone else do some of the asking. A sister or close friend forwarding your page with a personal note reaches people you cannot approach yourself without it feeling strange.
- Decide in advance not to keep score, then actually do not. It is hard, and it protects friendships you will want later.
Where fundraising fits with everything else
Fundraising is one lever, not the plan. Grants are real money and most people underuse them: RESOLVE maintains a directory of fertility grant programs with awards that, by its listings, run from a few hundred dollars up to $16,000 at Baby Quest Foundation and up to $10,000 at the Cade Foundation and the Nest Egg Foundation. Many charge an application fee — Baby Quest's own site currently lists $75 — and most run on fixed cycles, so calendar the deadlines. Ask your clinic about multi-cycle packages and medication discounts.
One note on taxes. The IRS says crowdfunding contributions "made as a result of the contributors' detached and disinterested generosity" may be gifts and may not be includible in gross income — while cautioning that they are not automatically gifts, and recommending you keep records of the fundraising and use of funds for at least three years. Keep them, and ask a tax professional.
Questions people actually ask
How much should I set as a goal? Set a real number you can explain in one sentence — one cycle, or medications, or the agency retainer — rather than an aspirational total. Explainable goals may get funded more often than rounder, larger ones, and you can raise it later.
Should I use my real name and photo? It is likely to help, because people tend to give to people they can see. If you are not ready to be identified you can still run a campaign and share it privately by link — just know that anonymity and reach pull against each other.
What if I don't raise enough? Most people do not hit their full goal, and partial funding is still funding — often the difference between a cycle now and a cycle a year from now. Keep the page up; money sometimes arrives in month two or three from people who saw it, meant to give, and forgot.
If you want somewhere to start
Gift of Parenthood runs a fundraising platform built for exactly this. Creating a fundraiser costs nothing and there are no monthly fees; a 3% platform fee plus standard payment processing of 2.9% + $0.30 per transaction come out of each donation as it arrives, so a $100 gift delivers $93.80 to your family. Donors can add an optional tip that supports the platform, which never reduces what goes to you. Families have raised more than $2.8 million there so far, according to Gift of Parenthood.
There is also a grant program: up to $20,000, awarded through application review, four cycles a year. Its $75 application fee is waived automatically if your fundraiser raises $100 or more from at least two supporters — a reasonable argument for starting the page even if you are undecided.
Whatever you land on, land on it deliberately rather than by default. Asking is hard. Not asking is also a choice, and it carries its own cost.
<!-- draft sources (remove before publish if desired): https://www.who.int/news/item/04-04-2023-1-in-6-people-globally-affected-by-infertility https://resolve.org/learn/financial-resources/insurance-coverage/insurance-coverage-by-state/ https://www.advancedfertility.com/blog/what-is-the-average-cost-of-ivf-in-the-united-states https://pmc.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/articles/PMC8887155/ https://ideas.repec.org/a/eee/pubeco/v95y2011i7-8p926-941.html https://econweb.ucsd.edu/~jandreon/PhilanthropyAndFundraising/Volume%202/28%20Meer%202011.pdf https://www.irs.gov/newsroom/money-received-through-crowdfunding-may-be-taxable-taxpayers-should-understand-their-obligations-and-the-benefits-of-good-recordkeeping https://resolve.org/learn/financial-resources/fertility-treatment-scholarships-and-grants/ https://babyquestfoundation.org/applying-for-a-grant-2/ https://resolve.org/learn/financial-resources/financing-programs-for-fertility-treatment/ https://give.giftofparenthood.org/pricing https://giftofparenthood.org/ https://grant.giftofparenthood.org/faqs https://blog.giftofparenthood.org/posts/why-telling-your-infertility-story-matters -->From the publisher
You don't have to carry the cost alone.
Gift of Parenthood awards a $20,000 Family Fund grant each cycle and helps families fundraise for IVF, surrogacy, and adoption. If this is your journey, there's a place to start.

