Ob.Gyn. News

In 2019, a New York Times opinion piece titled, “The Big IVF Add-On Racket – This is no way to treat patients desperate for a baby”¹ alleged exploitation of infertility patients based on a Fertility and Sterility article, “Do à la carte menus serve infertility patients? The ethics and regulation of in vitro fertility add-ons.”² The desperation of infertility patients combined with their financial burden, caused by inconsistent insurance coverage, has resulted in a perfect storm of frustration and overzealous recommendations for a successful outcome. Since the inception of in vitro fertilization (IVF) itself, infertility patients have been subjected to many unproven tests and procedures that enter the mainstream of care before unequivocal efficacy and safety have been shown.

From ovarian stimulation with intrauterine insemination (IUI) or IVF along with intracytoplasmic sperm injection (ICSI), assisted hatching, and preimplantation genetic testing for aneuploidy (PGT-A), a multitude of options with varying success can overwhelm fertility patients as they walk the tightrope of wanting “the kitchen sink” of treatment while experiencing sticker shock. This month’s article examines the top 10 infertility add-ons that have yet to be shown to improve pregnancy outcomes.

1. Blood testing: Prolactin and FSH

In a woman with ovulatory monthly menstrual cycles, a serum prolactin level provides no elucidation of the cause of infertility. If obtained following ovulation, prolactin can often be physiologically elevated, thereby compelling a repeat blood level, which is ideally performed during the early proliferative phase. False elevations of prolactin can be caused by an early morning blood sample, eating, and stress – which may result from worry caused by having to repeat the unnecessary initial blood test!

Follicle-stimulating hormone (FSH) was a first-line hormone test to assess for ovarian age. For nearly 15 years now, FSH has been replaced by anti-Müllerian hormone as a more reliable and earlier test for diminished ovarian reserve. However, FSH is still the hormone test of choice to diagnose primary ovarian insufficiency. Note that the use of ovarian age testing in a woman without infertility can result in both unnecessary patient anxiety and additional testing.
 

2. Endometrial scratch

The concept was understandable, that is, induce endometrial trauma by a biopsy or “scratch,” that results in an inflammatory and immunologic response to increase implantation. Endometrial sampling was recommended to be performed during the month prior to the embryo transfer cycle. While the procedure is brief, the pain response of women varies from minimal to severe. Unfortunately, a randomized controlled trial of over 1,300 patients did not show any improvement in the IVF live birth rate from the scratch procedure.³

3. Diagnostic laparoscopy

In years past, a diagnosis of unexplained infertility was not accepted until a laparoscopy was performed that revealed a normal pelvis. This approach subjected many women to an unindicated and a potentially risky surgery that has not shown benefit. The American Society for Reproductive Medicine’s ReproductiveFacts.org website states: “Routine diagnostic laparoscopy should not be performed unless there is a suspicion of pelvic pathology based on clinical history, an abnormal pelvic exam, or abnormalities identified with less invasive testing. In patients with a normal hysterosalpingogram or the presence of a unilaterally patent tube, diagnostic laparoscopy typically will not change the initial recommendation for treatment.”

4. Prescribing clomiphene citrate without IUI

Ovulation dysfunction is found in 40% of female factors for fertility. Provided testing reveals a reasonably normal sperm analysis and hysterosalpingogram, ovulation induction medication with ultrasound monitoring along with an hCG trigger is appropriate. In women who ovulate with unexplained infertility and/or mild male factor, the use of clomiphene citrate or letrozole with timed intercourse is often prescribed, particularly in clinics when IUI preparation is not available. Unfortunately, without including IUI, the use of oral ovarian stimulation has been shown by good evidence to be no more effective than natural cycle attempts at conception.⁴

5. Thrombophilia testing

Recurrent miscarriage, defined by the spontaneous loss of two or more pregnancies (often during the first trimester but may include up to 20 weeks estimated gestational age), has remained an ill-defined problem that lacks a consensus on the most optimal evaluation and treatment. In 2006, an international consensus statement provided guidance on laboratory testing for antiphospholipid syndrome limited to lupus anticoagulant, anticardiolipin IgG and IgM, and IgG and IgM anti–beta₂-glycoprotein I assays.⁵ ASRM does not recommend additional thrombophilia tests as they are unproven causative factors of recurrent miscarriage.

6. Screening hysteroscopy

A standard infertility evaluation includes ovulation testing, assessment of fallopian tube patency, and a sperm analysis. In a subfertile women with a normal ultrasound or hysterosalpingogram in the basic fertility work‐up, a Cochrane data review concluded there is no definitive evidence for improved outcome with a screening hysteroscopy prior to IUI or IVF.^6,7 Two large trials included in the Cochrane review, confirmed similar live birth rates whether or not hysteroscopy was performed before IVF. There may value in screening patients with recurrent implantation failure.

7. PGT-A for all

As the efficacy of the first generation of embryo preimplantation genetic testing, i.e., FISH (fluorescence in situ hybridization) was disproven, so has the same result been determined for PGT-A, specifically in women younger than 35.⁸ In an elegant randomized prospective trial, Munne and colleagues showed no improvement in the ongoing pregnancy rate (OPR) of study patients of all ages who were enrolled with the intention to treat. However, a subanalysis of patients aged 35-40 who completed the protocol did show an improved OPR and lower miscarriage rate per embryo transfer. While there is no evidence to support improved outcomes with the universal application of PGT-A, there may be some benefit in women older than 35 as well as in certain individual patient circumstances.

8. ICSI for nonmale factor infertility; assisted hatching

In an effort to reduce the risk of fertilization failure, programs have broadened the use of ICSI to nonmale factor infertility. While it has been used in PGT to reduce the risk of DNA contamination, particularly in PGT-M (monogenic disorder) and PGT-SR (structural rearrangement) cases, ICSI has not been shown to improve outcomes when there is a normal sperm analysis.⁹ During IVF embryo development, assisted hatching involves the thinning and/or opening of the zona pellucida either by chemical, mechanical, or laser means around the embryo before transfer with the intention of facilitating implantation. The routine use of assisted hatching is not recommended based on the lack of increase in live birth rates and because it may increase multiple pregnancy and monozygotic twinning rates.¹⁰

9. Acupuncture

Four meta-analyses showed no evidence of the overall benefit of acupuncture for improving live birth rates regardless of whether acupuncture was performed around the time of oocyte retrieval or around the day of embryo transfer. Consequently, acupuncture cannot be recommended routinely to improve IVF outcomes.¹¹

10. Immunologic tests/treatments

Given the “foreign” genetic nature of a fetus, attempts to suppress the maternal immunologic response to sustain the pregnancy have been made for decades, especially for recurrent miscarriage and recurrent implantation failure with IVF. Testing has included natural killer (NK) cells, human leukocyte antigen (HLA) genotypes, and cytokines. While NK cells can be examined by endometrial biopsy, levels fluctuate based on the cycle phase, and no correlation between peripheral blood testing and uterine NK cell levels has been shown. Further, no consensus has been reached on reliable normal reference ranges in uterine NK cells.¹²

Several treatments have been proposed to somehow modulate the immune system during the implantation process thereby improving implantation and live birth, including lipid emulsion (intralipid) infusion, intravenous immunoglobulin, leukocyte immunization therapy, tacrolimus, anti–tumor necrosis factor agents, and granulocyte colony-stimulating factor. A recent systematic review and meta-analysis cited low-quality studies and did not recommend the use of any of these immune treatments.¹³ Further, immunomodulation has many known side effects, some of which are serious (including hepatosplenomegaly, thrombocytopenia, leukopenia, renal failure, thromboembolism, and anaphylactic reactions). Excluding women with autoimmune disease, taking glucocorticoids or other immune treatments to improve fertility has not been proven.¹³

Conclusion

To quote the New York Times opinion piece, “IVF remains an under-regulated arena, and entrepreneurial doctors and pharmaceutical and life science companies are eager to find new ways to cash in on a growing global market that is projected to be as large as $40 billion by 2024.” While this bold statement compels a huge “Ouch!”, it reminds us of our obligation to provide evidence-based medicine and to include emotional and financial harm to our oath of Primum non nocere.

References

1. The News York Times. 2019 Dec 12. Opinion.

2. Wilkinson J et al. Fertil Steril. 2019;112(6):973-7.

3. Lensen S et al. N Engl J Med. 2019 Jan 24;380(4):325-34.

4. Practice Committee of the American Society for Reproductive Medicine. Fertil Steril. 2020;113(2):305-22.

5. Miyakis S et al. J Thromb Haemost. 2006;4(2):295-306.

6. Kamath MS et al. Cochrane Database Syst Rev. 2019 Apr 16;4(4):CD012856.

7. Bosteels J et al. Cochrane Database Syst Rev. 2013 Jan 31;(1):CD009461.

8. Munne S et al. Fertil Steril. 2019;112(6):1071-9.

9. Practice Committees of the American Society for Reproductive Medicine and the Society for Assisted Reproductive Technology. Fertil Steril. 2020;114(2):239-45.

10. Lacey L et al. Cochrane Database Syst Rev. March 7 2021;3:2199.

11. Coyle ME et al. Acupunct Med. 2021;39(1):20-9.

12. Von Woon E et al. Hum Reprod Update. 2022;30;28(4):548-82.

13. Achilli C et al. Fertil Steril. 2018;110(6):1089-100.

In 2019, a New York Times opinion piece titled, “The Big IVF Add-On Racket – This is no way to treat patients desperate for a baby”¹ alleged exploitation of infertility patients based on a Fertility and Sterility article, “Do à la carte menus serve infertility patients? The ethics and regulation of in vitro fertility add-ons.”² The desperation of infertility patients combined with their financial burden, caused by inconsistent insurance coverage, has resulted in a perfect storm of frustration and overzealous recommendations for a successful outcome. Since the inception of in vitro fertilization (IVF) itself, infertility patients have been subjected to many unproven tests and procedures that enter the mainstream of care before unequivocal efficacy and safety have been shown.

From ovarian stimulation with intrauterine insemination (IUI) or IVF along with intracytoplasmic sperm injection (ICSI), assisted hatching, and preimplantation genetic testing for aneuploidy (PGT-A), a multitude of options with varying success can overwhelm fertility patients as they walk the tightrope of wanting “the kitchen sink” of treatment while experiencing sticker shock. This month’s article examines the top 10 infertility add-ons that have yet to be shown to improve pregnancy outcomes.

1. Blood testing: Prolactin and FSH

In a woman with ovulatory monthly menstrual cycles, a serum prolactin level provides no elucidation of the cause of infertility. If obtained following ovulation, prolactin can often be physiologically elevated, thereby compelling a repeat blood level, which is ideally performed during the early proliferative phase. False elevations of prolactin can be caused by an early morning blood sample, eating, and stress – which may result from worry caused by having to repeat the unnecessary initial blood test!

Follicle-stimulating hormone (FSH) was a first-line hormone test to assess for ovarian age. For nearly 15 years now, FSH has been replaced by anti-Müllerian hormone as a more reliable and earlier test for diminished ovarian reserve. However, FSH is still the hormone test of choice to diagnose primary ovarian insufficiency. Note that the use of ovarian age testing in a woman without infertility can result in both unnecessary patient anxiety and additional testing.
 

2. Endometrial scratch

The concept was understandable, that is, induce endometrial trauma by a biopsy or “scratch,” that results in an inflammatory and immunologic response to increase implantation. Endometrial sampling was recommended to be performed during the month prior to the embryo transfer cycle. While the procedure is brief, the pain response of women varies from minimal to severe. Unfortunately, a randomized controlled trial of over 1,300 patients did not show any improvement in the IVF live birth rate from the scratch procedure.³

3. Diagnostic laparoscopy

In years past, a diagnosis of unexplained infertility was not accepted until a laparoscopy was performed that revealed a normal pelvis. This approach subjected many women to an unindicated and a potentially risky surgery that has not shown benefit. The American Society for Reproductive Medicine’s ReproductiveFacts.org website states: “Routine diagnostic laparoscopy should not be performed unless there is a suspicion of pelvic pathology based on clinical history, an abnormal pelvic exam, or abnormalities identified with less invasive testing. In patients with a normal hysterosalpingogram or the presence of a unilaterally patent tube, diagnostic laparoscopy typically will not change the initial recommendation for treatment.”

4. Prescribing clomiphene citrate without IUI

Ovulation dysfunction is found in 40% of female factors for fertility. Provided testing reveals a reasonably normal sperm analysis and hysterosalpingogram, ovulation induction medication with ultrasound monitoring along with an hCG trigger is appropriate. In women who ovulate with unexplained infertility and/or mild male factor, the use of clomiphene citrate or letrozole with timed intercourse is often prescribed, particularly in clinics when IUI preparation is not available. Unfortunately, without including IUI, the use of oral ovarian stimulation has been shown by good evidence to be no more effective than natural cycle attempts at conception.⁴

5. Thrombophilia testing

Recurrent miscarriage, defined by the spontaneous loss of two or more pregnancies (often during the first trimester but may include up to 20 weeks estimated gestational age), has remained an ill-defined problem that lacks a consensus on the most optimal evaluation and treatment. In 2006, an international consensus statement provided guidance on laboratory testing for antiphospholipid syndrome limited to lupus anticoagulant, anticardiolipin IgG and IgM, and IgG and IgM anti–beta₂-glycoprotein I assays.⁵ ASRM does not recommend additional thrombophilia tests as they are unproven causative factors of recurrent miscarriage.

6. Screening hysteroscopy

A standard infertility evaluation includes ovulation testing, assessment of fallopian tube patency, and a sperm analysis. In a subfertile women with a normal ultrasound or hysterosalpingogram in the basic fertility work‐up, a Cochrane data review concluded there is no definitive evidence for improved outcome with a screening hysteroscopy prior to IUI or IVF.^6,7 Two large trials included in the Cochrane review, confirmed similar live birth rates whether or not hysteroscopy was performed before IVF. There may value in screening patients with recurrent implantation failure.

7. PGT-A for all

As the efficacy of the first generation of embryo preimplantation genetic testing, i.e., FISH (fluorescence in situ hybridization) was disproven, so has the same result been determined for PGT-A, specifically in women younger than 35.⁸ In an elegant randomized prospective trial, Munne and colleagues showed no improvement in the ongoing pregnancy rate (OPR) of study patients of all ages who were enrolled with the intention to treat. However, a subanalysis of patients aged 35-40 who completed the protocol did show an improved OPR and lower miscarriage rate per embryo transfer. While there is no evidence to support improved outcomes with the universal application of PGT-A, there may be some benefit in women older than 35 as well as in certain individual patient circumstances.

8. ICSI for nonmale factor infertility; assisted hatching

In an effort to reduce the risk of fertilization failure, programs have broadened the use of ICSI to nonmale factor infertility. While it has been used in PGT to reduce the risk of DNA contamination, particularly in PGT-M (monogenic disorder) and PGT-SR (structural rearrangement) cases, ICSI has not been shown to improve outcomes when there is a normal sperm analysis.⁹ During IVF embryo development, assisted hatching involves the thinning and/or opening of the zona pellucida either by chemical, mechanical, or laser means around the embryo before transfer with the intention of facilitating implantation. The routine use of assisted hatching is not recommended based on the lack of increase in live birth rates and because it may increase multiple pregnancy and monozygotic twinning rates.¹⁰

9. Acupuncture

Four meta-analyses showed no evidence of the overall benefit of acupuncture for improving live birth rates regardless of whether acupuncture was performed around the time of oocyte retrieval or around the day of embryo transfer. Consequently, acupuncture cannot be recommended routinely to improve IVF outcomes.¹¹

10. Immunologic tests/treatments

Given the “foreign” genetic nature of a fetus, attempts to suppress the maternal immunologic response to sustain the pregnancy have been made for decades, especially for recurrent miscarriage and recurrent implantation failure with IVF. Testing has included natural killer (NK) cells, human leukocyte antigen (HLA) genotypes, and cytokines. While NK cells can be examined by endometrial biopsy, levels fluctuate based on the cycle phase, and no correlation between peripheral blood testing and uterine NK cell levels has been shown. Further, no consensus has been reached on reliable normal reference ranges in uterine NK cells.¹²

Several treatments have been proposed to somehow modulate the immune system during the implantation process thereby improving implantation and live birth, including lipid emulsion (intralipid) infusion, intravenous immunoglobulin, leukocyte immunization therapy, tacrolimus, anti–tumor necrosis factor agents, and granulocyte colony-stimulating factor. A recent systematic review and meta-analysis cited low-quality studies and did not recommend the use of any of these immune treatments.¹³ Further, immunomodulation has many known side effects, some of which are serious (including hepatosplenomegaly, thrombocytopenia, leukopenia, renal failure, thromboembolism, and anaphylactic reactions). Excluding women with autoimmune disease, taking glucocorticoids or other immune treatments to improve fertility has not been proven.¹³

Conclusion

To quote the New York Times opinion piece, “IVF remains an under-regulated arena, and entrepreneurial doctors and pharmaceutical and life science companies are eager to find new ways to cash in on a growing global market that is projected to be as large as $40 billion by 2024.” While this bold statement compels a huge “Ouch!”, it reminds us of our obligation to provide evidence-based medicine and to include emotional and financial harm to our oath of Primum non nocere.

References

1. The News York Times. 2019 Dec 12. Opinion.

2. Wilkinson J et al. Fertil Steril. 2019;112(6):973-7.

3. Lensen S et al. N Engl J Med. 2019 Jan 24;380(4):325-34.

4. Practice Committee of the American Society for Reproductive Medicine. Fertil Steril. 2020;113(2):305-22.

5. Miyakis S et al. J Thromb Haemost. 2006;4(2):295-306.

6. Kamath MS et al. Cochrane Database Syst Rev. 2019 Apr 16;4(4):CD012856.

7. Bosteels J et al. Cochrane Database Syst Rev. 2013 Jan 31;(1):CD009461.

8. Munne S et al. Fertil Steril. 2019;112(6):1071-9.

9. Practice Committees of the American Society for Reproductive Medicine and the Society for Assisted Reproductive Technology. Fertil Steril. 2020;114(2):239-45.

10. Lacey L et al. Cochrane Database Syst Rev. March 7 2021;3:2199.

11. Coyle ME et al. Acupunct Med. 2021;39(1):20-9.

12. Von Woon E et al. Hum Reprod Update. 2022;30;28(4):548-82.

13. Achilli C et al. Fertil Steril. 2018;110(6):1089-100.

In 2019, a New York Times opinion piece titled, “The Big IVF Add-On Racket – This is no way to treat patients desperate for a baby”¹ alleged exploitation of infertility patients based on a Fertility and Sterility article, “Do à la carte menus serve infertility patients? The ethics and regulation of in vitro fertility add-ons.”² The desperation of infertility patients combined with their financial burden, caused by inconsistent insurance coverage, has resulted in a perfect storm of frustration and overzealous recommendations for a successful outcome. Since the inception of in vitro fertilization (IVF) itself, infertility patients have been subjected to many unproven tests and procedures that enter the mainstream of care before unequivocal efficacy and safety have been shown.

From ovarian stimulation with intrauterine insemination (IUI) or IVF along with intracytoplasmic sperm injection (ICSI), assisted hatching, and preimplantation genetic testing for aneuploidy (PGT-A), a multitude of options with varying success can overwhelm fertility patients as they walk the tightrope of wanting “the kitchen sink” of treatment while experiencing sticker shock. This month’s article examines the top 10 infertility add-ons that have yet to be shown to improve pregnancy outcomes.

1. Blood testing: Prolactin and FSH

In a woman with ovulatory monthly menstrual cycles, a serum prolactin level provides no elucidation of the cause of infertility. If obtained following ovulation, prolactin can often be physiologically elevated, thereby compelling a repeat blood level, which is ideally performed during the early proliferative phase. False elevations of prolactin can be caused by an early morning blood sample, eating, and stress – which may result from worry caused by having to repeat the unnecessary initial blood test!

Follicle-stimulating hormone (FSH) was a first-line hormone test to assess for ovarian age. For nearly 15 years now, FSH has been replaced by anti-Müllerian hormone as a more reliable and earlier test for diminished ovarian reserve. However, FSH is still the hormone test of choice to diagnose primary ovarian insufficiency. Note that the use of ovarian age testing in a woman without infertility can result in both unnecessary patient anxiety and additional testing.
 

2. Endometrial scratch

The concept was understandable, that is, induce endometrial trauma by a biopsy or “scratch,” that results in an inflammatory and immunologic response to increase implantation. Endometrial sampling was recommended to be performed during the month prior to the embryo transfer cycle. While the procedure is brief, the pain response of women varies from minimal to severe. Unfortunately, a randomized controlled trial of over 1,300 patients did not show any improvement in the IVF live birth rate from the scratch procedure.³

3. Diagnostic laparoscopy

In years past, a diagnosis of unexplained infertility was not accepted until a laparoscopy was performed that revealed a normal pelvis. This approach subjected many women to an unindicated and a potentially risky surgery that has not shown benefit. The American Society for Reproductive Medicine’s ReproductiveFacts.org website states: “Routine diagnostic laparoscopy should not be performed unless there is a suspicion of pelvic pathology based on clinical history, an abnormal pelvic exam, or abnormalities identified with less invasive testing. In patients with a normal hysterosalpingogram or the presence of a unilaterally patent tube, diagnostic laparoscopy typically will not change the initial recommendation for treatment.”

4. Prescribing clomiphene citrate without IUI

Ovulation dysfunction is found in 40% of female factors for fertility. Provided testing reveals a reasonably normal sperm analysis and hysterosalpingogram, ovulation induction medication with ultrasound monitoring along with an hCG trigger is appropriate. In women who ovulate with unexplained infertility and/or mild male factor, the use of clomiphene citrate or letrozole with timed intercourse is often prescribed, particularly in clinics when IUI preparation is not available. Unfortunately, without including IUI, the use of oral ovarian stimulation has been shown by good evidence to be no more effective than natural cycle attempts at conception.⁴

5. Thrombophilia testing

Recurrent miscarriage, defined by the spontaneous loss of two or more pregnancies (often during the first trimester but may include up to 20 weeks estimated gestational age), has remained an ill-defined problem that lacks a consensus on the most optimal evaluation and treatment. In 2006, an international consensus statement provided guidance on laboratory testing for antiphospholipid syndrome limited to lupus anticoagulant, anticardiolipin IgG and IgM, and IgG and IgM anti–beta₂-glycoprotein I assays.⁵ ASRM does not recommend additional thrombophilia tests as they are unproven causative factors of recurrent miscarriage.

6. Screening hysteroscopy

A standard infertility evaluation includes ovulation testing, assessment of fallopian tube patency, and a sperm analysis. In a subfertile women with a normal ultrasound or hysterosalpingogram in the basic fertility work‐up, a Cochrane data review concluded there is no definitive evidence for improved outcome with a screening hysteroscopy prior to IUI or IVF.^6,7 Two large trials included in the Cochrane review, confirmed similar live birth rates whether or not hysteroscopy was performed before IVF. There may value in screening patients with recurrent implantation failure.

7. PGT-A for all

As the efficacy of the first generation of embryo preimplantation genetic testing, i.e., FISH (fluorescence in situ hybridization) was disproven, so has the same result been determined for PGT-A, specifically in women younger than 35.⁸ In an elegant randomized prospective trial, Munne and colleagues showed no improvement in the ongoing pregnancy rate (OPR) of study patients of all ages who were enrolled with the intention to treat. However, a subanalysis of patients aged 35-40 who completed the protocol did show an improved OPR and lower miscarriage rate per embryo transfer. While there is no evidence to support improved outcomes with the universal application of PGT-A, there may be some benefit in women older than 35 as well as in certain individual patient circumstances.

8. ICSI for nonmale factor infertility; assisted hatching

In an effort to reduce the risk of fertilization failure, programs have broadened the use of ICSI to nonmale factor infertility. While it has been used in PGT to reduce the risk of DNA contamination, particularly in PGT-M (monogenic disorder) and PGT-SR (structural rearrangement) cases, ICSI has not been shown to improve outcomes when there is a normal sperm analysis.⁹ During IVF embryo development, assisted hatching involves the thinning and/or opening of the zona pellucida either by chemical, mechanical, or laser means around the embryo before transfer with the intention of facilitating implantation. The routine use of assisted hatching is not recommended based on the lack of increase in live birth rates and because it may increase multiple pregnancy and monozygotic twinning rates.¹⁰

9. Acupuncture

Four meta-analyses showed no evidence of the overall benefit of acupuncture for improving live birth rates regardless of whether acupuncture was performed around the time of oocyte retrieval or around the day of embryo transfer. Consequently, acupuncture cannot be recommended routinely to improve IVF outcomes.¹¹

10. Immunologic tests/treatments

Given the “foreign” genetic nature of a fetus, attempts to suppress the maternal immunologic response to sustain the pregnancy have been made for decades, especially for recurrent miscarriage and recurrent implantation failure with IVF. Testing has included natural killer (NK) cells, human leukocyte antigen (HLA) genotypes, and cytokines. While NK cells can be examined by endometrial biopsy, levels fluctuate based on the cycle phase, and no correlation between peripheral blood testing and uterine NK cell levels has been shown. Further, no consensus has been reached on reliable normal reference ranges in uterine NK cells.¹²

Several treatments have been proposed to somehow modulate the immune system during the implantation process thereby improving implantation and live birth, including lipid emulsion (intralipid) infusion, intravenous immunoglobulin, leukocyte immunization therapy, tacrolimus, anti–tumor necrosis factor agents, and granulocyte colony-stimulating factor. A recent systematic review and meta-analysis cited low-quality studies and did not recommend the use of any of these immune treatments.¹³ Further, immunomodulation has many known side effects, some of which are serious (including hepatosplenomegaly, thrombocytopenia, leukopenia, renal failure, thromboembolism, and anaphylactic reactions). Excluding women with autoimmune disease, taking glucocorticoids or other immune treatments to improve fertility has not been proven.¹³

Conclusion

To quote the New York Times opinion piece, “IVF remains an under-regulated arena, and entrepreneurial doctors and pharmaceutical and life science companies are eager to find new ways to cash in on a growing global market that is projected to be as large as $40 billion by 2024.” While this bold statement compels a huge “Ouch!”, it reminds us of our obligation to provide evidence-based medicine and to include emotional and financial harm to our oath of Primum non nocere.

References

1. The News York Times. 2019 Dec 12. Opinion.

2. Wilkinson J et al. Fertil Steril. 2019;112(6):973-7.

3. Lensen S et al. N Engl J Med. 2019 Jan 24;380(4):325-34.

4. Practice Committee of the American Society for Reproductive Medicine. Fertil Steril. 2020;113(2):305-22.

5. Miyakis S et al. J Thromb Haemost. 2006;4(2):295-306.

6. Kamath MS et al. Cochrane Database Syst Rev. 2019 Apr 16;4(4):CD012856.

7. Bosteels J et al. Cochrane Database Syst Rev. 2013 Jan 31;(1):CD009461.

8. Munne S et al. Fertil Steril. 2019;112(6):1071-9.

9. Practice Committees of the American Society for Reproductive Medicine and the Society for Assisted Reproductive Technology. Fertil Steril. 2020;114(2):239-45.

10. Lacey L et al. Cochrane Database Syst Rev. March 7 2021;3:2199.

11. Coyle ME et al. Acupunct Med. 2021;39(1):20-9.

12. Von Woon E et al. Hum Reprod Update. 2022;30;28(4):548-82.

13. Achilli C et al. Fertil Steril. 2018;110(6):1089-100.

On one of the first days of medical school, Adaira Landry, MD, applied her favorite dark shade of lipstick and headed to her orientation. She was eager to learn about program expectations and connect with fellow aspiring physicians. But when Dr. Landry got there, one of her brand-new peers turned to her and asked, “Why do you wear your lipstick like an angry Black woman?”

“Imagine hearing that,” Dr. Landry, now an emergency medical physician in Boston, says. “It was so hurtful.”

So, what is a “standard-issue doctor” expected to look like? Physicians manage their appearances in myriad ways: through clothes, accessories, hair style, makeup; through a social media presence or lack thereof; in the rhythms and nuances of their interactions with patients and colleagues. These things add up to a professional “persona” – the Latin word for “mask,” or the face on display for the world to see.

Professional personae exist across various industries, but some standards for professionalism in medicine reflect a particularly narrow view of what a physician can or should be. While the health care field itself is diversifying, its guidelines for professionalism appear slower to change, often excluding or frowning upon expressions of individual personality or identity.

“Medicine is run primarily by men. It’s an objective truth,” Dr. Landry says. “Currently and historically, the standard of professionalism, especially in the physical sense, was set by them. As we increase diversity and welcome people bringing their authentic self to work, the prior definitions of professionalism are obviously in need of change.”
 

Split social media personalities

In August 2020, the Journal of Vascular Surgery published a study on the “prevalence of unprofessional social media content among young vascular surgeons.” The content that was deemed “unprofessional” included opinions on political issues like abortion and gun control. Photos of physicians holding alcoholic drinks or wearing “inappropriate/offensive attire,” including underwear, “provocative Halloween costumes,” and “bikinis/swimwear” were also censured. Six men and one woman worked on the study, and three of the male researchers took on the task of seeking out the “unprofessional” photos on social media. The resulting paper was reviewed by an all-male editorial board.

The study sparked immediate backlash and prompted hundreds of health care professionals to post photos of themselves in bathing suits with the hashtag “#medbikini.” The journal then retracted the study and issued an apology on Twitter, recognizing “errors in the design of the study with regards to conscious and unconscious bias.”

The researchers’ original definition of professionalism suggests that physicians should manage their personae even outside of work hours. “I think medicine in general is a very conservative and hierarchical field of study and of work, to say the least,” says Sarah Fraser, MD, a family medicine physician in Nova Scotia, Canada. “There’s this view that we have to have completely separate personal and professional lives, like church and state.”

The #medbikini controversy inspired Dr. Fraser to write an op-ed for the British Medical Journal blog about the flaws of requiring physicians to keep their personal and professional selves separate. The piece referenced Robert Louis Stevenson’s 1886 Gothic novella “The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde,” in which the respected scientist Dr. Jekyll creates an alter ego so he can express his evil urges without experiencing guilt, punishment, or loss of livelihood. Dr. Fraser likened this story to the pressure physicians feel to shrink or split themselves to squeeze into a narrow definition of professionalism.

But Dr. Landry points out that some elements of expression seen as unprofessional cannot be entirely separated from a physician’s fundamental identity. “For Black women, our daily behaviors and forms of expression that are deemed ‘unprofessional’ are much more subtle than being able to wear a bikini on social media,” she says. “The way we wear our hair, the tone of our voice, the color of our lipstick, the way we wear scrub caps are parts of us that are called into question.”
 

Keeping up appearances

The stereotype of what a doctor should look like starts to shape physicians’ professional personae in medical school. When Jennifer Caputo-Seidler, MD, started medical school in 2008, the dress code requirements for male students were simple: pants, a button-down shirt, a tie. But then there were the rules for women: Hair should be tied back. Minimal makeup. No flashy jewelry. Nothing without sleeves. Neutral colors. High necklines. Low hemlines. “The message I got was that we need to dress like the men in order to be taken seriously and to be seen as professional,” says Dr. Caputo-Seidler, now an assistant professor of medicine at the University of South Florida, Tampa, “and so that’s what I did.”

A 2018 analysis of 78 “draw-a-scientist” studies found that children have overwhelmingly associated scientific fields with men for the last 50 years. Overall, children drew 73% of scientists as men. The drawings grew more gender diverse over time, but even as more women entered scientific fields, both boys and girls continued to draw significantly more male than female scientists.

Not everyone at Dr. Caputo-Seidler’s medical school adhered to the environment’s gendered expectations. One resident she worked with often wore voluminous hairstyles, lipstick, and high heels. Dr. Caputo-Seidler overheard her peers as they gossiped behind the resident’s back, ridiculing the way she looked.

“She was good at her job,” Dr. Caputo-Seidler says. “She knew her patients. She had things down. She was, by all measures, very competent. But when people saw her dressing outside the norm and being forward with her femininity, there was definitely a lot of chatter about it.”

While expectations for a conservative appearance may disproportionately affect women, and particularly women of color, they also affect men who deviate from the norm. “As an LGBTQ+ person working as a ‘professional,’ I have countless stories and moments where I had my professionalism questioned,” Blair Peters, MD, a plastic surgeon and assistant professor at Oregon Health & Science University, Portland, wrote on Twitter. “Why is it ‘unprofessional’ to have colored hair? Why is it ‘unprofessional’ to have a visible tattoo? Why is it ‘unprofessional’ to wear bright colors and patterns?”

Dr. Fraser remembers a fellow medical student who had full-sleeve tattoos on both of his arms. A preceptor made a comment about it to Dr. Fraser, and then instructed the student to cover up his tattoos. “I think that there are scenarios when having tattoos or having different-colored hair or expressing your individual personality could help you even better bond with your patients,” Dr. Fraser says, “especially if you’re, for example, working with youth.”
 

Unmasking health care

Beyond the facets of dress codes and social media posts, the issue of professional personae speaks to the deeper issue of inclusion in medicine. As the field grows increasingly diverse, health care institutions and those they serve may need to expand their definitions of professionalism to include more truthful expressions of who contemporary health care professionals are as people.

Dr. Fraser suggests that the benefits of physicians embracing self-expression – rather than assimilating to an outdated model of professionalism – extend beyond the individual.

“Whether it comes to what you choose to wear to the clinic on a day-to-day basis, or what you choose to share on a social media account, as long as it’s not harming others, then I think that it’s a positive thing to be able to be yourself and express yourself,” she says. “I feel like doctors are expected to have a different personality when we’re at the clinic, and usually it’s more conservative or objective or aloof. But I think that by being open about who we are, we’ll actually help build a trusting relationship with both patients and society.”

A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.

On one of the first days of medical school, Adaira Landry, MD, applied her favorite dark shade of lipstick and headed to her orientation. She was eager to learn about program expectations and connect with fellow aspiring physicians. But when Dr. Landry got there, one of her brand-new peers turned to her and asked, “Why do you wear your lipstick like an angry Black woman?”

“Imagine hearing that,” Dr. Landry, now an emergency medical physician in Boston, says. “It was so hurtful.”

So, what is a “standard-issue doctor” expected to look like? Physicians manage their appearances in myriad ways: through clothes, accessories, hair style, makeup; through a social media presence or lack thereof; in the rhythms and nuances of their interactions with patients and colleagues. These things add up to a professional “persona” – the Latin word for “mask,” or the face on display for the world to see.

Professional personae exist across various industries, but some standards for professionalism in medicine reflect a particularly narrow view of what a physician can or should be. While the health care field itself is diversifying, its guidelines for professionalism appear slower to change, often excluding or frowning upon expressions of individual personality or identity.

“Medicine is run primarily by men. It’s an objective truth,” Dr. Landry says. “Currently and historically, the standard of professionalism, especially in the physical sense, was set by them. As we increase diversity and welcome people bringing their authentic self to work, the prior definitions of professionalism are obviously in need of change.”
 

Split social media personalities

In August 2020, the Journal of Vascular Surgery published a study on the “prevalence of unprofessional social media content among young vascular surgeons.” The content that was deemed “unprofessional” included opinions on political issues like abortion and gun control. Photos of physicians holding alcoholic drinks or wearing “inappropriate/offensive attire,” including underwear, “provocative Halloween costumes,” and “bikinis/swimwear” were also censured. Six men and one woman worked on the study, and three of the male researchers took on the task of seeking out the “unprofessional” photos on social media. The resulting paper was reviewed by an all-male editorial board.

The study sparked immediate backlash and prompted hundreds of health care professionals to post photos of themselves in bathing suits with the hashtag “#medbikini.” The journal then retracted the study and issued an apology on Twitter, recognizing “errors in the design of the study with regards to conscious and unconscious bias.”

The researchers’ original definition of professionalism suggests that physicians should manage their personae even outside of work hours. “I think medicine in general is a very conservative and hierarchical field of study and of work, to say the least,” says Sarah Fraser, MD, a family medicine physician in Nova Scotia, Canada. “There’s this view that we have to have completely separate personal and professional lives, like church and state.”

The #medbikini controversy inspired Dr. Fraser to write an op-ed for the British Medical Journal blog about the flaws of requiring physicians to keep their personal and professional selves separate. The piece referenced Robert Louis Stevenson’s 1886 Gothic novella “The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde,” in which the respected scientist Dr. Jekyll creates an alter ego so he can express his evil urges without experiencing guilt, punishment, or loss of livelihood. Dr. Fraser likened this story to the pressure physicians feel to shrink or split themselves to squeeze into a narrow definition of professionalism.

But Dr. Landry points out that some elements of expression seen as unprofessional cannot be entirely separated from a physician’s fundamental identity. “For Black women, our daily behaviors and forms of expression that are deemed ‘unprofessional’ are much more subtle than being able to wear a bikini on social media,” she says. “The way we wear our hair, the tone of our voice, the color of our lipstick, the way we wear scrub caps are parts of us that are called into question.”
 

Keeping up appearances

The stereotype of what a doctor should look like starts to shape physicians’ professional personae in medical school. When Jennifer Caputo-Seidler, MD, started medical school in 2008, the dress code requirements for male students were simple: pants, a button-down shirt, a tie. But then there were the rules for women: Hair should be tied back. Minimal makeup. No flashy jewelry. Nothing without sleeves. Neutral colors. High necklines. Low hemlines. “The message I got was that we need to dress like the men in order to be taken seriously and to be seen as professional,” says Dr. Caputo-Seidler, now an assistant professor of medicine at the University of South Florida, Tampa, “and so that’s what I did.”

A 2018 analysis of 78 “draw-a-scientist” studies found that children have overwhelmingly associated scientific fields with men for the last 50 years. Overall, children drew 73% of scientists as men. The drawings grew more gender diverse over time, but even as more women entered scientific fields, both boys and girls continued to draw significantly more male than female scientists.

Not everyone at Dr. Caputo-Seidler’s medical school adhered to the environment’s gendered expectations. One resident she worked with often wore voluminous hairstyles, lipstick, and high heels. Dr. Caputo-Seidler overheard her peers as they gossiped behind the resident’s back, ridiculing the way she looked.

“She was good at her job,” Dr. Caputo-Seidler says. “She knew her patients. She had things down. She was, by all measures, very competent. But when people saw her dressing outside the norm and being forward with her femininity, there was definitely a lot of chatter about it.”

While expectations for a conservative appearance may disproportionately affect women, and particularly women of color, they also affect men who deviate from the norm. “As an LGBTQ+ person working as a ‘professional,’ I have countless stories and moments where I had my professionalism questioned,” Blair Peters, MD, a plastic surgeon and assistant professor at Oregon Health & Science University, Portland, wrote on Twitter. “Why is it ‘unprofessional’ to have colored hair? Why is it ‘unprofessional’ to have a visible tattoo? Why is it ‘unprofessional’ to wear bright colors and patterns?”

Dr. Fraser remembers a fellow medical student who had full-sleeve tattoos on both of his arms. A preceptor made a comment about it to Dr. Fraser, and then instructed the student to cover up his tattoos. “I think that there are scenarios when having tattoos or having different-colored hair or expressing your individual personality could help you even better bond with your patients,” Dr. Fraser says, “especially if you’re, for example, working with youth.”
 

Unmasking health care

Beyond the facets of dress codes and social media posts, the issue of professional personae speaks to the deeper issue of inclusion in medicine. As the field grows increasingly diverse, health care institutions and those they serve may need to expand their definitions of professionalism to include more truthful expressions of who contemporary health care professionals are as people.

Dr. Fraser suggests that the benefits of physicians embracing self-expression – rather than assimilating to an outdated model of professionalism – extend beyond the individual.

“Whether it comes to what you choose to wear to the clinic on a day-to-day basis, or what you choose to share on a social media account, as long as it’s not harming others, then I think that it’s a positive thing to be able to be yourself and express yourself,” she says. “I feel like doctors are expected to have a different personality when we’re at the clinic, and usually it’s more conservative or objective or aloof. But I think that by being open about who we are, we’ll actually help build a trusting relationship with both patients and society.”

A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.

On one of the first days of medical school, Adaira Landry, MD, applied her favorite dark shade of lipstick and headed to her orientation. She was eager to learn about program expectations and connect with fellow aspiring physicians. But when Dr. Landry got there, one of her brand-new peers turned to her and asked, “Why do you wear your lipstick like an angry Black woman?”

“Imagine hearing that,” Dr. Landry, now an emergency medical physician in Boston, says. “It was so hurtful.”

So, what is a “standard-issue doctor” expected to look like? Physicians manage their appearances in myriad ways: through clothes, accessories, hair style, makeup; through a social media presence or lack thereof; in the rhythms and nuances of their interactions with patients and colleagues. These things add up to a professional “persona” – the Latin word for “mask,” or the face on display for the world to see.

Professional personae exist across various industries, but some standards for professionalism in medicine reflect a particularly narrow view of what a physician can or should be. While the health care field itself is diversifying, its guidelines for professionalism appear slower to change, often excluding or frowning upon expressions of individual personality or identity.

“Medicine is run primarily by men. It’s an objective truth,” Dr. Landry says. “Currently and historically, the standard of professionalism, especially in the physical sense, was set by them. As we increase diversity and welcome people bringing their authentic self to work, the prior definitions of professionalism are obviously in need of change.”
 

Split social media personalities

In August 2020, the Journal of Vascular Surgery published a study on the “prevalence of unprofessional social media content among young vascular surgeons.” The content that was deemed “unprofessional” included opinions on political issues like abortion and gun control. Photos of physicians holding alcoholic drinks or wearing “inappropriate/offensive attire,” including underwear, “provocative Halloween costumes,” and “bikinis/swimwear” were also censured. Six men and one woman worked on the study, and three of the male researchers took on the task of seeking out the “unprofessional” photos on social media. The resulting paper was reviewed by an all-male editorial board.

The study sparked immediate backlash and prompted hundreds of health care professionals to post photos of themselves in bathing suits with the hashtag “#medbikini.” The journal then retracted the study and issued an apology on Twitter, recognizing “errors in the design of the study with regards to conscious and unconscious bias.”

The researchers’ original definition of professionalism suggests that physicians should manage their personae even outside of work hours. “I think medicine in general is a very conservative and hierarchical field of study and of work, to say the least,” says Sarah Fraser, MD, a family medicine physician in Nova Scotia, Canada. “There’s this view that we have to have completely separate personal and professional lives, like church and state.”

The #medbikini controversy inspired Dr. Fraser to write an op-ed for the British Medical Journal blog about the flaws of requiring physicians to keep their personal and professional selves separate. The piece referenced Robert Louis Stevenson’s 1886 Gothic novella “The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde,” in which the respected scientist Dr. Jekyll creates an alter ego so he can express his evil urges without experiencing guilt, punishment, or loss of livelihood. Dr. Fraser likened this story to the pressure physicians feel to shrink or split themselves to squeeze into a narrow definition of professionalism.

But Dr. Landry points out that some elements of expression seen as unprofessional cannot be entirely separated from a physician’s fundamental identity. “For Black women, our daily behaviors and forms of expression that are deemed ‘unprofessional’ are much more subtle than being able to wear a bikini on social media,” she says. “The way we wear our hair, the tone of our voice, the color of our lipstick, the way we wear scrub caps are parts of us that are called into question.”
 

Keeping up appearances

The stereotype of what a doctor should look like starts to shape physicians’ professional personae in medical school. When Jennifer Caputo-Seidler, MD, started medical school in 2008, the dress code requirements for male students were simple: pants, a button-down shirt, a tie. But then there were the rules for women: Hair should be tied back. Minimal makeup. No flashy jewelry. Nothing without sleeves. Neutral colors. High necklines. Low hemlines. “The message I got was that we need to dress like the men in order to be taken seriously and to be seen as professional,” says Dr. Caputo-Seidler, now an assistant professor of medicine at the University of South Florida, Tampa, “and so that’s what I did.”

A 2018 analysis of 78 “draw-a-scientist” studies found that children have overwhelmingly associated scientific fields with men for the last 50 years. Overall, children drew 73% of scientists as men. The drawings grew more gender diverse over time, but even as more women entered scientific fields, both boys and girls continued to draw significantly more male than female scientists.

Not everyone at Dr. Caputo-Seidler’s medical school adhered to the environment’s gendered expectations. One resident she worked with often wore voluminous hairstyles, lipstick, and high heels. Dr. Caputo-Seidler overheard her peers as they gossiped behind the resident’s back, ridiculing the way she looked.

“She was good at her job,” Dr. Caputo-Seidler says. “She knew her patients. She had things down. She was, by all measures, very competent. But when people saw her dressing outside the norm and being forward with her femininity, there was definitely a lot of chatter about it.”

While expectations for a conservative appearance may disproportionately affect women, and particularly women of color, they also affect men who deviate from the norm. “As an LGBTQ+ person working as a ‘professional,’ I have countless stories and moments where I had my professionalism questioned,” Blair Peters, MD, a plastic surgeon and assistant professor at Oregon Health & Science University, Portland, wrote on Twitter. “Why is it ‘unprofessional’ to have colored hair? Why is it ‘unprofessional’ to have a visible tattoo? Why is it ‘unprofessional’ to wear bright colors and patterns?”

Dr. Fraser remembers a fellow medical student who had full-sleeve tattoos on both of his arms. A preceptor made a comment about it to Dr. Fraser, and then instructed the student to cover up his tattoos. “I think that there are scenarios when having tattoos or having different-colored hair or expressing your individual personality could help you even better bond with your patients,” Dr. Fraser says, “especially if you’re, for example, working with youth.”
 

Unmasking health care

Beyond the facets of dress codes and social media posts, the issue of professional personae speaks to the deeper issue of inclusion in medicine. As the field grows increasingly diverse, health care institutions and those they serve may need to expand their definitions of professionalism to include more truthful expressions of who contemporary health care professionals are as people.

Dr. Fraser suggests that the benefits of physicians embracing self-expression – rather than assimilating to an outdated model of professionalism – extend beyond the individual.

“Whether it comes to what you choose to wear to the clinic on a day-to-day basis, or what you choose to share on a social media account, as long as it’s not harming others, then I think that it’s a positive thing to be able to be yourself and express yourself,” she says. “I feel like doctors are expected to have a different personality when we’re at the clinic, and usually it’s more conservative or objective or aloof. But I think that by being open about who we are, we’ll actually help build a trusting relationship with both patients and society.”

A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.

In the opinion of R. Rox Anderson, MD, it’s only a matter of time before true robots make further inroads in dermatology.

“We humans just can’t do everything perfectly,” Dr. Anderson, a dermatologist who directs the Wellman Center for Photomedicine at Massachusetts General Hospital, Boston, said during a virtual course on laser and aesthetic skin therapy. “We have limited speed and special accuracy and are not good at repetitive tasks. We can’t see in the UV or infrared, and we’re qualitative, not quantitative. ... We’re good at high-level visual assessment.”

During a presentation at the meeting, which was sponsored by Harvard Medical School, Massachusetts General Hospital, and the Wellman Center, he distinguished between robotics and true robots. A prime example of robotics in medicine is the Da Vinci Surgical System in which a human user “is controlling every movement of this device with capabilities that humans don’t have, such as fine movement and high magnification of imaging,” said Dr. Anderson, who conceived and developed many of the nonscarring laser treatments now widely used in dermatology. “In the military, we have drone aircraft. The pilot is perhaps thousands of miles away; it’s still run by a human being in every way.”

By contrast, true robots are devices in which a human being programs the rules for action but the action itself is not exactly predictable. Artificial intelligence enables robots to perform certain tasks. “If you look at an Amazon warehouse, there’s barely anyone there; robots are packing and unpacking the shelves,” Dr. Anderson said.

Currently, he said, one true robot exists in dermatology: the Food and Drug Administration–cleared ARTAS Robotic Hair Restoration System, which precisely dissects follicular units from the donor area and eliminates the potential for human error. The device “extracts single follicular units from the occipital scalp and makes them available to the surgeon to do an artistic human job of implanting them in the frontal scalp,” Dr. Anderson said.

He predicts that a Mohs surgery robot with image-guided laser ablation would “launch a sea change in the whole field of surgical oncology, and I believe we are in a good position to do it. Everything for this is now sitting on the shelf and it’s unbelievable to me that a company hasn’t accomplished it yet.”

He would also like to see a true laser robot for surgery of tumors that would enable clinicians to download an app for their existing laser instead of having to buy a new device. Currently, “it takes about a half second to make a good optical coherence tomography image of basal cell carcinoma,” he said. “That image could be used for real-time robotic human control of, say, a laser to extirpate the tumor.”

Dr. Anderson’s “wish list” of applications for treatment with a robotic fractional laser includes those that target the sweat glands, sebaceous glands, nerves, inflammatory cells, white hair, blood vessels, lymphatics, hair, tumors, nevi, cysts, and surface contour. “It might be possible to have one software-programmable laser robot for many different applications in dermatology,” he added.

Dr. Anderson reported having received research funding and/or consulting fees from numerous device and pharmaceutical companies.





 

In the opinion of R. Rox Anderson, MD, it’s only a matter of time before true robots make further inroads in dermatology.

“We humans just can’t do everything perfectly,” Dr. Anderson, a dermatologist who directs the Wellman Center for Photomedicine at Massachusetts General Hospital, Boston, said during a virtual course on laser and aesthetic skin therapy. “We have limited speed and special accuracy and are not good at repetitive tasks. We can’t see in the UV or infrared, and we’re qualitative, not quantitative. ... We’re good at high-level visual assessment.”

During a presentation at the meeting, which was sponsored by Harvard Medical School, Massachusetts General Hospital, and the Wellman Center, he distinguished between robotics and true robots. A prime example of robotics in medicine is the Da Vinci Surgical System in which a human user “is controlling every movement of this device with capabilities that humans don’t have, such as fine movement and high magnification of imaging,” said Dr. Anderson, who conceived and developed many of the nonscarring laser treatments now widely used in dermatology. “In the military, we have drone aircraft. The pilot is perhaps thousands of miles away; it’s still run by a human being in every way.”

By contrast, true robots are devices in which a human being programs the rules for action but the action itself is not exactly predictable. Artificial intelligence enables robots to perform certain tasks. “If you look at an Amazon warehouse, there’s barely anyone there; robots are packing and unpacking the shelves,” Dr. Anderson said.

Currently, he said, one true robot exists in dermatology: the Food and Drug Administration–cleared ARTAS Robotic Hair Restoration System, which precisely dissects follicular units from the donor area and eliminates the potential for human error. The device “extracts single follicular units from the occipital scalp and makes them available to the surgeon to do an artistic human job of implanting them in the frontal scalp,” Dr. Anderson said.

He predicts that a Mohs surgery robot with image-guided laser ablation would “launch a sea change in the whole field of surgical oncology, and I believe we are in a good position to do it. Everything for this is now sitting on the shelf and it’s unbelievable to me that a company hasn’t accomplished it yet.”

He would also like to see a true laser robot for surgery of tumors that would enable clinicians to download an app for their existing laser instead of having to buy a new device. Currently, “it takes about a half second to make a good optical coherence tomography image of basal cell carcinoma,” he said. “That image could be used for real-time robotic human control of, say, a laser to extirpate the tumor.”

Dr. Anderson’s “wish list” of applications for treatment with a robotic fractional laser includes those that target the sweat glands, sebaceous glands, nerves, inflammatory cells, white hair, blood vessels, lymphatics, hair, tumors, nevi, cysts, and surface contour. “It might be possible to have one software-programmable laser robot for many different applications in dermatology,” he added.

Dr. Anderson reported having received research funding and/or consulting fees from numerous device and pharmaceutical companies.





 

In the opinion of R. Rox Anderson, MD, it’s only a matter of time before true robots make further inroads in dermatology.

“We humans just can’t do everything perfectly,” Dr. Anderson, a dermatologist who directs the Wellman Center for Photomedicine at Massachusetts General Hospital, Boston, said during a virtual course on laser and aesthetic skin therapy. “We have limited speed and special accuracy and are not good at repetitive tasks. We can’t see in the UV or infrared, and we’re qualitative, not quantitative. ... We’re good at high-level visual assessment.”

During a presentation at the meeting, which was sponsored by Harvard Medical School, Massachusetts General Hospital, and the Wellman Center, he distinguished between robotics and true robots. A prime example of robotics in medicine is the Da Vinci Surgical System in which a human user “is controlling every movement of this device with capabilities that humans don’t have, such as fine movement and high magnification of imaging,” said Dr. Anderson, who conceived and developed many of the nonscarring laser treatments now widely used in dermatology. “In the military, we have drone aircraft. The pilot is perhaps thousands of miles away; it’s still run by a human being in every way.”

By contrast, true robots are devices in which a human being programs the rules for action but the action itself is not exactly predictable. Artificial intelligence enables robots to perform certain tasks. “If you look at an Amazon warehouse, there’s barely anyone there; robots are packing and unpacking the shelves,” Dr. Anderson said.

Currently, he said, one true robot exists in dermatology: the Food and Drug Administration–cleared ARTAS Robotic Hair Restoration System, which precisely dissects follicular units from the donor area and eliminates the potential for human error. The device “extracts single follicular units from the occipital scalp and makes them available to the surgeon to do an artistic human job of implanting them in the frontal scalp,” Dr. Anderson said.

He predicts that a Mohs surgery robot with image-guided laser ablation would “launch a sea change in the whole field of surgical oncology, and I believe we are in a good position to do it. Everything for this is now sitting on the shelf and it’s unbelievable to me that a company hasn’t accomplished it yet.”

He would also like to see a true laser robot for surgery of tumors that would enable clinicians to download an app for their existing laser instead of having to buy a new device. Currently, “it takes about a half second to make a good optical coherence tomography image of basal cell carcinoma,” he said. “That image could be used for real-time robotic human control of, say, a laser to extirpate the tumor.”

Dr. Anderson’s “wish list” of applications for treatment with a robotic fractional laser includes those that target the sweat glands, sebaceous glands, nerves, inflammatory cells, white hair, blood vessels, lymphatics, hair, tumors, nevi, cysts, and surface contour. “It might be possible to have one software-programmable laser robot for many different applications in dermatology,” he added.

Dr. Anderson reported having received research funding and/or consulting fees from numerous device and pharmaceutical companies.





 

The day before doctors had scheduled Amanda Duffy to give birth, the baby jolted her awake with a kick.

A few hours later, on that bright Sunday in November 2014, she leaned back on a park bench to watch her 19-month-old son Rogen enjoy his final day of being an only child. In that moment of calm, she realized that the kick that morning was the last time she had felt the baby move.

She told herself not to worry. She had heard that babies can slow down toward the end of a pregnancy and remembered reading that sugary snacks and cold fluids can stimulate a baby’s movement. When she got back to the family’s home in suburban Minneapolis, she drank a large glass of ice water and grabbed a few Tootsie Rolls off the kitchen counter.

But something about seeing her husband, Chris, lace up his shoes to leave for a run prompted her to blurt out, “I haven’t felt the baby kick.”

Chris called Amanda’s doctor, and they headed to the hospital to be checked. Once there, a nurse maneuvered a fetal monitor around Amanda’s belly. When she had trouble locating a heartbeat, she remarked that the baby must be tucked in tight. The doctor walked into the room, turned the screen away from Amanda and Chris and began searching. She was sorry, Amanda remembers her telling them, but she could not find a heartbeat.

Amanda let out a guttural scream. She said the doctor quickly performed an internal exam, which detected faint heart activity, then rushed Amanda into an emergency cesarean section.

She woke up to the sound of doctors talking to Chris. She listened but couldn’t bring herself to face the news. Her doctor told her she needed to open her eyes.

Amanda, then 31, couldn’t fathom that her daughter had died. She said her doctors had never discussed stillbirth with her. It was not mentioned in any of the pregnancy materials she had read. She didn’t even know that stillbirth was a possibility.

But every year more than 20,000 pregnancies in the United States end in stillbirth, the death of an expected child at 20 weeks or more. That number has exceeded infant mortality every year for the last 10 years. It’s 15 times the number of babies who, according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, died of Sudden Infant Death Syndrome, or SIDS, in 2020.

The deaths are not inevitable. One study found that nearly one in four U.S. stillbirths may be preventable. For pregnancies that last 37 weeks or more, that research shows, the figure jumps to nearly half. Thousands more babies could potentially be delivered safely every year.

But federal agencies have not prioritized critical stillbirth-focused studies that could lead to fewer deaths. Nearly two decades ago, both the CDC and the National Institutes of Health launched key stillbirth tracking and research studies, but the agencies ended those projects within about a decade. The CDC never analyzed some of the data that was collected.

Unlike with SIDS, a leading cause of infant death, federal officials have failed to launch a national campaign to reduce the risk of stillbirth or adequately raise awareness about it. Placental exams and autopsies, which can sometimes explain why stillbirths happened, are underutilized, in part because parents are not counseled on their benefits.

Federal agencies, state health departments, hospitals and doctors have also done a poor job of educating expectant parents about stillbirth or diligently counseling on fetal movement, despite research showing that patients who have had a stillbirth are more likely to have experienced abnormal fetal movements, including decreased activity. Neither the CDC nor the NIH have consistently promoted guidance telling those who are pregnant to be aware of their babies’ movement in the womb as a way to possibly reduce their risk of stillbirth.

The American College of Obstetricians and Gynecologists, the nation’s leading obstetrics organization, has been slow to update its own guidance to doctors on managing a stillbirth. In 2009, ACOG issued a set of guidelines that included a single paragraph regarding fetal movement. Those guidelines weren’t significantly updated for another 11 years.

Perhaps it’s no surprise that federal goals for reducing stillbirths keep moving in the wrong direction. In 2005, the U.S. stillbirth rate was 6.2 per 1,000 live births. The U.S. Department of Health and Human Services, in an effort to eliminate health disparities and establish a target that was “better than the best racial or ethnic group rate,” set a goal of reducing it to 4.1 for 2010. When that wasn’t met, federal officials changed their approach and set what they called more “science-based” and “realistic” goals, raising the 2020 target to 5.6. The U.S. still fell short. The 2030 goal of 5.7 was so attainable that it was met before the decade started. The 2020 rate, the most current according to the CDC, is 5.74.

By comparison, other wealthy countries have implemented national action plans to prevent stillbirth through awareness, research and care. Among other approaches, those countries have focused on increasing education around stillbirth and the importance of a baby’s movements, reducing rates of smoking and identifying fetuses that grow too slowly in the womb.

The efforts have paid off. The Netherlands, for instance, has reduced its rate of stillbirths at 28 weeks or later by more than half, from 5.2 in 2000 to 2.3 in 2019, according to a study published last year in The Lancet.

Dr. Bob Silver, chair of the obstetrics/gynecology department at University of Utah Health and a leading stillbirth expert, coauthored the study that estimated nearly one in four stillbirths are potentially preventable, a figure he referred to as conservative. He called on federal agencies to declare stillbirth reduction a priority the same way they have done for premature birth and maternal mortality.

“I’d like to see us say we really want to reduce the rate of stillbirth and raise awareness and try to do all of the reasonable things that may contribute to reducing stillbirths that other countries have done,” Silver said.

The lack of comprehensive attention and action has contributed to a stillbirth crisis, shrouded in an acceptance that some babies just die. Compounding the tragedy is a stigma and guilt so crushing that the first words some mothers utter when their lifeless babies are placed in their arms are “I’m sorry.”

In the hospital room, Amanda Duffy finally opened her eyes. She named her daughter Reese Christine, the name she had picked out for her before they found out she had died. She was 8 pounds, 3 ounces and 20 1/2 inches long and was born with her umbilical cord wrapped tightly around her neck twice. The baby was still warm when the nurse placed her in Amanda’s arms. Amanda was struck by how lovely her daughter was. Rosy skin. Chris’ red hair. Rogen’s chubby cheeks.

As Amanda held Reese, Chris hunched over the toilet, vomiting. Later that night, as he lay next to Amanda on the hospital bed, he held his daughter. He hadn’t initially wanted to see her. He worried she would be disfigured or, worse, that she would be beautiful and he would fall apart when he couldn’t take her home.

The nurses taught Amanda and Chris how to grieve and love simultaneously. One nurse told Amanda how cute Reese was and asked if she could hold her. Another placed ice packs in Reese’s swaddle to preserve her body so Amanda could keep holding her. Amanda asked the nurses to tuck cotton balls soaked in an orange scent into Reese’s blanket so the smell would trigger the memory of her daughter. And just as if Reese had been born alive, the nurses took pictures and made prints of her hands and feet.

“I felt such a deep, abiding love for her,” Amanda said. “And I was so proud to be her mom.”

On the way home from the hospital, Amanda broke down at the sight of Reese’s empty car seat. The next few weeks passed in a sleep-filled fog punctuated by intense periods of crying. The smell of oranges wrecked her. Her breast milk coming in was agonizing, physically and emotionally. She wore sports bras stuffed with ice packs to ease the pain and dry up her milk supply. While Rogen was at day care, she sobbed in his bed.

In the months that followed, Amanda and Chris searched for answers and wondered whether their medical team had missed warning signs. Late at night, Amanda turned to Google to find information about stillbirths. She mailed her medical records to a doctor who studies stillbirths, who she said told her that Reese’s death could have been prevented. They briefly discussed legal action against her doctors, but she said a lawyer told her it would be difficult to sue.

Amanda and Chris pinpointed her last two months of pregnancy as the time things started to go wrong. She had been diagnosed with polyhydramnios, meaning there was excess amniotic fluid in the womb. Her doctor had scheduled additional weekly testing.

One of those ultrasounds revealed problems with the blood flow in the umbilical cord. Reese’s cord also appeared to be wrapped around her neck, Amanda said later, but was told that was less of a concern, since it occurs in about 20% of normal deliveries. At another appointment, Amanda’s medical records show, Reese failed the portion of a test that measures fetal breathing movements.

At 37 weeks, Amanda told one of the midwives the baby’s movements felt different, but, she said, the midwife told her that it was common for movements to feel weaker with polyhydramnios. At that point, Amanda felt her baby was safer outside than inside and, her medical records show, she asked to schedule a C-section.

Despite voicing concerns about a change in the baby’s movement and asking to deliver earlier, Amanda said she and her husband were told by her midwife she couldn’t deliver for another two weeks. The doctor “continues to advise 39wks,” her medical records show. Waiting until 39 weeks is usually based on a guideline that deliveries should not happen before then unless a medical condition specifically warrants it, because early delivery can lead to complications.

Amanda would have to wait until 39 weeks and one day because, she said, her doctors didn’t typically do elective deliveries on weekends. Amanda was disappointed but said she trusted her team of doctors and midwives.

“I’m not a pushy person,” she said. “My husband is not a pushy person. That was out of our comfort zone to be, like, ‘What are we waiting for?’ But really what we wanted them to say was ‘We should deliver you.’”

Amanda’s final appointment was a maximum 30-minute-long ultrasound that combined a number of assessments to check amniotic fluid, fetal muscle tone, breathing and body movement. After 29 minutes of inactivity, Amanda said, the baby moved a hand. In the parking lot, Amanda called her mother, crying in relief. Four more days, she told her.

Less than 24 hours before the scheduled C-section, Reese was stillborn.

Four months after her death, Amanda, then a career advisor at the University of Minnesota, and Chris, a public relations specialist, wrote a letter to the University of Minnesota Medical Center, where Amanda had given birth to her dead daughter. They said they had “no ill feelings” toward anyone, but “it pains us to know that her death could’ve been prevented if we would have been sent to labor and delivery following that ultrasound.”

They noted that though they were told that Reese had passed the final ultrasound where she took 29 minutes to move, they had since come to believe that she had failed because, according to national standards, at least three movements were required. They also blamed a strict adherence to the 39-week guideline. And they encouraged the hospital staff to read more on umbilical cord accidents and acute polyhydramnios, which they later learned carries an increased stillbirth risk.

The positive feelings they had from speaking up were replaced by dismay when the hospital responded with a three-paragraph letter, signed by seven doctors and eight nurses. They said they had reexamined each medical decision in her case and concluded they had made “the best decisions medically possible.” They expressed their sympathy and said it was “so very heartwarming that you are trying to turn your tragic loss into something that will benefit others.”

Amanda felt dismissed by the medical team all over again. She didn’t expect them to admit fault, but she said she hoped that they would at least learn from Reese’s death to do things differently in the future. She was angry, and hurt, and knew that she would need to find a new doctor.

A spokesperson for the University of Minnesota Medical School told ProPublica she could not comment on individual patient cases and did not respond to questions about general protocols. “We share the physicians’ condolences,” she wrote, adding that the doctors and the university “are dedicated to delivering high quality, accessible and inclusive health care.”

For many expectant parents, it’s hard to muster the courage to call a doctor about something they’re not even sure is a problem.

“Moms self-censor a lot. No one wants to be that mom that all the doctors are rolling their eyes at because she’s freaking out over nothing,” said Samantha Banerjee, executive director of PUSH for Empowered Pregnancy, a nonprofit based in New York state that works to prevent stillbirths. Banerjee’s daughter, Alana, was stillborn two days before her due date.

In addition to raising awareness that stillbirths can happen even in low-risk pregnancies, PUSH teaches pregnant people how to advocate for themselves. The volunteers advise them to put their requests in writing and not to spend time drinking juice or lying on their side if they are worried about their baby’s lack of movement. In the majority of cases, a call or visit to the hospital reassures them.

But, the group tells parents, if their baby is in distress, calling their doctor can save their life.

Debbie Haine Vijayvergiya is fighting another narrative: that stillbirths are a rare fluke that “just happen.” When her daughter Autumn Joy was born without a heartbeat in 2011, Haine Vijayvergiya said, her doctor told her having a stillborn baby was as rare as being struck by lightning.

She believed him, but then she looked up the odds of a lightning strike and found they are less than one in a million – and most people survive. In 2020, according to the CDC, there was one stillbirth for about every 175 births.

“I’ve spoken to more women than I can count that said, ‘I raised the red flag, and I was sent home. I was told to eat a piece of cake and have some orange juice and lay on my left side,’ only to wake up the next day and their baby is not alive,” said Haine Vijayvergiya, a New Jersey mother and maternal health advocate.

She has fought for more than a decade to pass stillbirth legislation as her daughter’s legacy. Her current undertaking is her most ambitious. The federal Stillbirth Health Improvement and Education (SHINE) for Autumn Act, named after her daughter, would authorize $9 million a year for five years in federal funding for research, better data collection and training for fetal autopsies. But it is currently sitting in the Senate Committee on Health, Education, Labor, and Pensions.

Not all stillbirths are preventable, and medical experts agree more research is needed to determine who is most at risk and which babies can potentially be saved. Complicating matters is the wide range of risk factors, including hypertension and diabetes, smoking, obesity, being pregnant with multiples, being 35 or older and having had a previous stillbirth.

ProPublica reported this summer on how the U.S. botched the rollout of COVID-19 vaccines for pregnant people, who faced an increased risk for stillbirth if they were unvaccinated and contracted the virus, especially during the Delta wave.

Doctors often work to balance the risk of stillbirth with other dangers, particularly an increased chance of being admitted to neonatal intensive care units or even death of the baby if it is born too early. ACOG and the Society for Maternal-Fetal Medicine have issued guidance to try to slow a rise in elective deliveries before 39 weeks and the potential harm that can result. The Joint Commission, a national accrediting organization, began evaluating hospitals in 2010 based on that standard.

A 2019 study found that the risks of stillbirth slightly increased after the rule went into effect, but fewer infants died after birth. Other studies have not found an effect on stillbirths.

Last year, the obstetric groups updated their guidance to allow doctors to consider an early delivery if a woman has anxiety and a history of stillbirth, writing that a previous stillbirth “may” warrant an early delivery for patients who understand and accept the risks. For those who have previously had a stillbirth, one modeling analysis found that 38 weeks is the optimal timing of delivery, considering the increased risk of another stillbirth.

“A woman who has had a previous stillbirth at 37 weeks – one could argue that it’s cruel and unusual punishment to make her go to 39 weeks with her next pregnancy, although that is the current recommendation,” said Dr. Neil Mandsager, a maternal-fetal medicine specialist in Iowa and a medical advisor to a stillbirth prevention nonprofit.

At or after 40 weeks, the risk of stillbirth increases, especially for women 35 or older. Their risk, research shows, is doubled from 39 weeks to 40 and is more than six times as high at 42 weeks. In 2019 and 2020, a combined 1,200 stillbirths occurred between 40 and 42 weeks, according to the most recent CDC data.

Deciding when a patient should deliver entails weighing the risks to the mother and the infant against a possible stillbirth as the pregnancy continues, said Dr. Mark Turrentine, chair of ACOG’s Clinical Consensus Committee-Obstetrics, which helped create the guidance on managing a stillbirth. He said ACOG has addressed stillbirth in other documents and extensively in its 2021 guidance on fetal surveillance and testing, which is done to reduce the risk of stillbirth.

ACOG said it routinely reviewed its guidance on management of stillbirth but was unable to make significant updates “due to the lack of new, evidence-based research.” While prevention is a great concern to ACOG, Turrentine said it’s difficult to know how many stillbirths are preventable.

He said it’s standard practice for doctors to ask about fetal movement, and ACOG updated its guidance after new research became available. Doctors also need to include patients in decision-making and tailor care to them, he said, whether that›s using aspirin in patients at high risk of preeclampsia – a serious high blood pressure condition during pregnancy – or ordering additional tests.

After Reese’s death, Amanda and Chris Duffy wanted to get pregnant again. They sought out an obstetrician-gynecologist who would educate and listen to them. They set up several consultations until they found Dr. Emily Hawes-Van Pelt, who was recommended by another family who had had a stillbirth.

Hawes-Van Pelt cried with Amanda and Chris at their first meeting.

“I told her I was scared to be involved,” Hawes-Van Pelt said. “It’s such a tricky subsequent pregnancy because there’s so much worry and anxiety about the horrible, awful thing happening again.”

Amanda’s fear of delivering another dead baby led to an all-consuming anxiety, but Hawes-Van Pelt supported her when she asked for additional monitoring, testing and an early delivery.

When Hawes-Van Pelt switched practices midway through Amanda’s pregnancy, Amanda followed her. But the new hospital pushed back on the early delivery.

“We intervene early for poorly controlled diabetes,” Hawes-Van Pelt said. “We intervene early for all sorts of medical issues. Anxiety and prior stillbirth are two medical issues that we can intervene earlier for.”

Hawes-Van Pelt said she learned a lot from caring for Amanda, who made her reevaluate some of her own assumptions around stillbirths.

“I had a horrible fear of scaring women unnecessarily, and then realized that I was just not preparing women or educating them because of my own fears around it,” she said. “If you can carry a human being in your body and birth that human being and take care of it, you can hear those words.”

The hospital eventually agreed to let Hawes-Van Pelt schedule Amanda for a 37-week C-section. But after Amanda was again diagnosed with polyhydramnios, she went in for a C-section even earlier. She gave birth in 2015 to a healthy boy she and Chris named Rhett. Two years later, Amanda and Hawes-Van Pelt followed the same pregnancy plan, and she delivered a girl named Maeda Reese. Amanda chose the name because, when said quickly, it sounds like “made of Reese.”

Federal agencies, national organizations and state and city officials have mobilized in recent years to address maternal mortality, when mothers die during pregnancy, at delivery or soon after childbirth. They have focused on improving data collection, passing legislation and creating awareness campaigns that encourage medical professionals and others to listen when women say something doesn›t feel right.

In 2017, ProPublica and NPR documented the U.S. maternal mortality crisis, including alarming racial disparities.

According to CDC data, Black women face nearly three times the risk of maternal mortality. They also are more than twice – and in some states close to three times – as likely to have a stillbirth than white women, meaning not only are Black mothers dying at a disproportionate rate, so are their babies.

Janet Petersen, a state senator from Iowa, said it gives her hope to see how the country has turned its attention to maternal mortality and disparities in health care. She simply cannot understand why stillbirth isn’t being met with the same urgency.

In 2020, the CDC reported 861 mothers died either while pregnant or within six weeks of giving birth. That same year, 20,854 babies were stillborn.

Stillbirth, Petersen said, is a missing piece of the puzzle. Research shows the likelihood of severe maternal complications was more than four times higher for pregnancies that ended in stillbirths, and mothers who died within six weeks of delivery were more likely to have had a stillbirth.

“We see it over and over again that stillbirth is one of the maternal health care issues that continuously gets ignored,” said Petersen, a Democrat.

Petersen was a young legislator in 2003 when her daughter Grace was born still. Devastated, she thought of her grandmother, who lost a baby to stillbirth in 1920, just a few weeks before women got the right to vote.

“I was laying in my hospital bed thinking, ‘How could this still be happening in our country?’” Petersen recalled. “And it seemed, from the medical perspective, that, well, stillbirth happens. We can’t do anything to prevent them.”

Over the next few months, Petersen heard from other mothers who had lost their babies and wanted to spark change. As an elected official, Petersen was in a position to do that. In 2004, she introduced legislation that required the Iowa Department of Public Health to create a stillbirths work group, later securing funding through the CDC to create a stillbirth registry.

But the CDC didn’t renew the funding and never analyzed the data from the registry, though a CDC spokesperson said the Iowa Department of Public Health examined the data. Officials from the department did not respond to requests for comment.

Petersen and her fellow mothers pivoted. After hearing how researchers in Norway were able to increase awareness around fetal movement, they co-founded a nonprofit aimed at doing the same in the U.S.

The group, Healthy Birth Day, created colorful “Count the Kicks” pamphlets – and later an app – teaching pregnant people how to track a baby’s movements and establish what is normal for them. Monitoring a baby’s movements is the earliest and sometimes only indication that something may be wrong, said Emily Price, chief executive officer of Healthy Birth Day. One of the organization’s main messages is for pregnant people to speak up and clinicians to listen.

“Unfortunately, there are still doctors who brush women off or send them home when they come in with a complaint of a change in their baby’s movements,” Price said. “And babies are dying because of it.”

One Indiana county, which recorded 65 stillbirths from 2017 through 2019, reported that 74% had either some chance or a good chance of prevention, according to St. Joseph County Department of Health’s Fetal Infant Mortality Review program. For mothers who experienced decreased fetal movement in the few hours or days before the stillbirth, that estimate jumped to 90%.

Although there is not a scientific consensus that kick counting can prevent stillbirths, national groups, including ACOG, recommend that medical professionals encourage their patients to be aware of fetal movement patterns. ACOG also advises medical professionals to be attentive to a mother’s concerns about reduced movement and address them “in a systematic way.”

One complaint the CDC hears too often, an agency spokesperson said, is that pregnant people and those who gave birth recently find that their concerns are dismissed or ignored. “Listening and taking the concerns of pregnant and recently pregnant people seriously,” she said, “is a simple, yet powerful action to prevent serious health complications and even death.”

The CDC, she said, is “very interested” in expanding its research on stillbirth, which is “a crucial part of the development of any awareness or prevention campaigns.” In addition to working to improve its stillbirth data quality, the agency has funded some pilot programs at the city and state level to better track stillbirths, survey people who have had a stillbirth and research risk factors and causes. The Iowa registry, she said, led the CDC to fund different research projects in Arkansas and Massachusetts, which are ongoing.

In 2009, the CDC acknowledged that fetal mortality remained a “major, but often overlooked, public health problem.” Officials wrote that much of the public health concern had been focused on infant mortality “in part due to lesser awareness of the magnitude of fetal mortality, its causes, and prevention strategies.”

But little has changed over the past 13 years. Echoing its earlier message, the CDC this year declared that “much work remains” and that “stillbirth is not often viewed as a public health issue, so increased awareness is key.”

A spokesperson for the Eunice Kennedy Shriver National Institute of Child Health and Human Development, which is part of the NIH, said the agency has continually funded research on stillbirths, even after one of its key studies ended. The agency, she said, also supports research on conditions that increase the risk of stillbirth.

As a scientific research institute, it does not issue clinical guidelines or recommendations, she said, though it did launch the Safe to Sleep campaign in 1994, two decades after Congress put it in charge of SIDS federal research efforts. That campaign, which educates parents and caregivers on ways to reduce the risk of SIDS, highlights recommendations issued by the American Academy of Pediatrics. She said the agency will continue to collaborate with organizations that raise awareness about stillbirth and other pregnancy complications “to amplify their messages and efforts.”

“NICHD continues to support research on the prevention, causes, frequency, and risk factors of stillbirth,” the spokesperson said in an email. “Our commitment to enhancing understanding of stillbirth and improving outcomes focuses on building the scientific knowledge base.”

But getting laws on the books that could raise awareness around stillbirth – even when they don’t require additional funding – has been a struggle. Petersen and Price are pushing Congress to pass legislation that would add stillbirth research and prevention to the list of activities approved for federal maternal health dollars.

Though the bill doesn’t ask for any additional funding, it has not yet passed.

In addition, the SHINE for Autumn Act breezed through the House of Representatives in December 2021. After Haine Vijayvergiya, the New Jersey mother who has championed it, secured bipartisan support from U.S. Sens. Cory Booker, D-N.J., and Marco Rubio, R-Fla., she thought the most comprehensive stillbirth legislation in U.S. history would finally become law.

Neither bill has sparked controversy.

But months after press releases announced the SHINE legislation and referred to the U.S. stillbirth rate as “unacceptable,” lawmakers and the families they represent are running out of time as this session of Congress prepares to adjourn.

“From the day that the bill was introduced into the Senate,” Haine Vijayvergiya said, “approximately 13,000 babies have been born still.”

Last month, on a brilliant fall day much like the one when Reese was stillborn, Amanda Duffy bent down to kiss her son Rogen’s head before they walked on stage.

She wore a soft blue T-shirt tucked into her jeans that read “Be courageous.” The message was as much for her as it was for the crowd on the National Mall in Washington, D.C., many of them like her, mothers who didn’t know stillbirth happened until it happened to them. Since Reese’s death, she has coached doctors and nurses on improving care for patients who have suffered pregnancy loss. Among her many suggestions, she tells them their first words when a concerned patient reaches out should be “I’m so glad you called.”

A few hundred people had gathered for The Big PUSH to End Preventable Stillbirth, billed as the first-ever march on the issue. As part of an art installation, Amanda wrote a note to Reese: “You’re pretty magical & for that I’m grateful. You’re a change maker and you are so very loved. Love, Mama.” Before she slipped the folded paper into a sea of more than 20,000 baby hats, Rogen added his own message: “Hope you are having a good time – Rogen.”

Reese would have turned 8 this month.

Before Amanda spoke, she took a deep breath and silenced her nerves. She walked onto the stage and called on Congress to pass the stillbirth legislation before it. She didn’t ask. She demanded.

“It’s time to empower pregnant people and their care providers with information that leads to prevention,” she insisted.

With the afternoon sun bearing down, Amanda and Rogen disappeared into the crowd of families marching toward the Capitol. Many carried signs. Some pushed empty strollers. Amanda was still wearing the orange-scented oil she had rubbed on her wrists that morning.

This story was originally published on ProPublica. ProPublica is a nonprofit newsroom that investigates abuses of power. Sign up to receive their biggest stories as soon as they’re published

The day before doctors had scheduled Amanda Duffy to give birth, the baby jolted her awake with a kick.

A few hours later, on that bright Sunday in November 2014, she leaned back on a park bench to watch her 19-month-old son Rogen enjoy his final day of being an only child. In that moment of calm, she realized that the kick that morning was the last time she had felt the baby move.

She told herself not to worry. She had heard that babies can slow down toward the end of a pregnancy and remembered reading that sugary snacks and cold fluids can stimulate a baby’s movement. When she got back to the family’s home in suburban Minneapolis, she drank a large glass of ice water and grabbed a few Tootsie Rolls off the kitchen counter.

But something about seeing her husband, Chris, lace up his shoes to leave for a run prompted her to blurt out, “I haven’t felt the baby kick.”

Chris called Amanda’s doctor, and they headed to the hospital to be checked. Once there, a nurse maneuvered a fetal monitor around Amanda’s belly. When she had trouble locating a heartbeat, she remarked that the baby must be tucked in tight. The doctor walked into the room, turned the screen away from Amanda and Chris and began searching. She was sorry, Amanda remembers her telling them, but she could not find a heartbeat.

Amanda let out a guttural scream. She said the doctor quickly performed an internal exam, which detected faint heart activity, then rushed Amanda into an emergency cesarean section.

She woke up to the sound of doctors talking to Chris. She listened but couldn’t bring herself to face the news. Her doctor told her she needed to open her eyes.

Amanda, then 31, couldn’t fathom that her daughter had died. She said her doctors had never discussed stillbirth with her. It was not mentioned in any of the pregnancy materials she had read. She didn’t even know that stillbirth was a possibility.

But every year more than 20,000 pregnancies in the United States end in stillbirth, the death of an expected child at 20 weeks or more. That number has exceeded infant mortality every year for the last 10 years. It’s 15 times the number of babies who, according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, died of Sudden Infant Death Syndrome, or SIDS, in 2020.

The deaths are not inevitable. One study found that nearly one in four U.S. stillbirths may be preventable. For pregnancies that last 37 weeks or more, that research shows, the figure jumps to nearly half. Thousands more babies could potentially be delivered safely every year.

But federal agencies have not prioritized critical stillbirth-focused studies that could lead to fewer deaths. Nearly two decades ago, both the CDC and the National Institutes of Health launched key stillbirth tracking and research studies, but the agencies ended those projects within about a decade. The CDC never analyzed some of the data that was collected.

Unlike with SIDS, a leading cause of infant death, federal officials have failed to launch a national campaign to reduce the risk of stillbirth or adequately raise awareness about it. Placental exams and autopsies, which can sometimes explain why stillbirths happened, are underutilized, in part because parents are not counseled on their benefits.

Federal agencies, state health departments, hospitals and doctors have also done a poor job of educating expectant parents about stillbirth or diligently counseling on fetal movement, despite research showing that patients who have had a stillbirth are more likely to have experienced abnormal fetal movements, including decreased activity. Neither the CDC nor the NIH have consistently promoted guidance telling those who are pregnant to be aware of their babies’ movement in the womb as a way to possibly reduce their risk of stillbirth.

The American College of Obstetricians and Gynecologists, the nation’s leading obstetrics organization, has been slow to update its own guidance to doctors on managing a stillbirth. In 2009, ACOG issued a set of guidelines that included a single paragraph regarding fetal movement. Those guidelines weren’t significantly updated for another 11 years.

Perhaps it’s no surprise that federal goals for reducing stillbirths keep moving in the wrong direction. In 2005, the U.S. stillbirth rate was 6.2 per 1,000 live births. The U.S. Department of Health and Human Services, in an effort to eliminate health disparities and establish a target that was “better than the best racial or ethnic group rate,” set a goal of reducing it to 4.1 for 2010. When that wasn’t met, federal officials changed their approach and set what they called more “science-based” and “realistic” goals, raising the 2020 target to 5.6. The U.S. still fell short. The 2030 goal of 5.7 was so attainable that it was met before the decade started. The 2020 rate, the most current according to the CDC, is 5.74.

By comparison, other wealthy countries have implemented national action plans to prevent stillbirth through awareness, research and care. Among other approaches, those countries have focused on increasing education around stillbirth and the importance of a baby’s movements, reducing rates of smoking and identifying fetuses that grow too slowly in the womb.

The efforts have paid off. The Netherlands, for instance, has reduced its rate of stillbirths at 28 weeks or later by more than half, from 5.2 in 2000 to 2.3 in 2019, according to a study published last year in The Lancet.

Dr. Bob Silver, chair of the obstetrics/gynecology department at University of Utah Health and a leading stillbirth expert, coauthored the study that estimated nearly one in four stillbirths are potentially preventable, a figure he referred to as conservative. He called on federal agencies to declare stillbirth reduction a priority the same way they have done for premature birth and maternal mortality.

“I’d like to see us say we really want to reduce the rate of stillbirth and raise awareness and try to do all of the reasonable things that may contribute to reducing stillbirths that other countries have done,” Silver said.

The lack of comprehensive attention and action has contributed to a stillbirth crisis, shrouded in an acceptance that some babies just die. Compounding the tragedy is a stigma and guilt so crushing that the first words some mothers utter when their lifeless babies are placed in their arms are “I’m sorry.”

In the hospital room, Amanda Duffy finally opened her eyes. She named her daughter Reese Christine, the name she had picked out for her before they found out she had died. She was 8 pounds, 3 ounces and 20 1/2 inches long and was born with her umbilical cord wrapped tightly around her neck twice. The baby was still warm when the nurse placed her in Amanda’s arms. Amanda was struck by how lovely her daughter was. Rosy skin. Chris’ red hair. Rogen’s chubby cheeks.

As Amanda held Reese, Chris hunched over the toilet, vomiting. Later that night, as he lay next to Amanda on the hospital bed, he held his daughter. He hadn’t initially wanted to see her. He worried she would be disfigured or, worse, that she would be beautiful and he would fall apart when he couldn’t take her home.

The nurses taught Amanda and Chris how to grieve and love simultaneously. One nurse told Amanda how cute Reese was and asked if she could hold her. Another placed ice packs in Reese’s swaddle to preserve her body so Amanda could keep holding her. Amanda asked the nurses to tuck cotton balls soaked in an orange scent into Reese’s blanket so the smell would trigger the memory of her daughter. And just as if Reese had been born alive, the nurses took pictures and made prints of her hands and feet.

“I felt such a deep, abiding love for her,” Amanda said. “And I was so proud to be her mom.”

On the way home from the hospital, Amanda broke down at the sight of Reese’s empty car seat. The next few weeks passed in a sleep-filled fog punctuated by intense periods of crying. The smell of oranges wrecked her. Her breast milk coming in was agonizing, physically and emotionally. She wore sports bras stuffed with ice packs to ease the pain and dry up her milk supply. While Rogen was at day care, she sobbed in his bed.

In the months that followed, Amanda and Chris searched for answers and wondered whether their medical team had missed warning signs. Late at night, Amanda turned to Google to find information about stillbirths. She mailed her medical records to a doctor who studies stillbirths, who she said told her that Reese’s death could have been prevented. They briefly discussed legal action against her doctors, but she said a lawyer told her it would be difficult to sue.

Amanda and Chris pinpointed her last two months of pregnancy as the time things started to go wrong. She had been diagnosed with polyhydramnios, meaning there was excess amniotic fluid in the womb. Her doctor had scheduled additional weekly testing.

One of those ultrasounds revealed problems with the blood flow in the umbilical cord. Reese’s cord also appeared to be wrapped around her neck, Amanda said later, but was told that was less of a concern, since it occurs in about 20% of normal deliveries. At another appointment, Amanda’s medical records show, Reese failed the portion of a test that measures fetal breathing movements.

At 37 weeks, Amanda told one of the midwives the baby’s movements felt different, but, she said, the midwife told her that it was common for movements to feel weaker with polyhydramnios. At that point, Amanda felt her baby was safer outside than inside and, her medical records show, she asked to schedule a C-section.

Despite voicing concerns about a change in the baby’s movement and asking to deliver earlier, Amanda said she and her husband were told by her midwife she couldn’t deliver for another two weeks. The doctor “continues to advise 39wks,” her medical records show. Waiting until 39 weeks is usually based on a guideline that deliveries should not happen before then unless a medical condition specifically warrants it, because early delivery can lead to complications.

Amanda would have to wait until 39 weeks and one day because, she said, her doctors didn’t typically do elective deliveries on weekends. Amanda was disappointed but said she trusted her team of doctors and midwives.

“I’m not a pushy person,” she said. “My husband is not a pushy person. That was out of our comfort zone to be, like, ‘What are we waiting for?’ But really what we wanted them to say was ‘We should deliver you.’”

Amanda’s final appointment was a maximum 30-minute-long ultrasound that combined a number of assessments to check amniotic fluid, fetal muscle tone, breathing and body movement. After 29 minutes of inactivity, Amanda said, the baby moved a hand. In the parking lot, Amanda called her mother, crying in relief. Four more days, she told her.

Less than 24 hours before the scheduled C-section, Reese was stillborn.

Four months after her death, Amanda, then a career advisor at the University of Minnesota, and Chris, a public relations specialist, wrote a letter to the University of Minnesota Medical Center, where Amanda had given birth to her dead daughter. They said they had “no ill feelings” toward anyone, but “it pains us to know that her death could’ve been prevented if we would have been sent to labor and delivery following that ultrasound.”

They noted that though they were told that Reese had passed the final ultrasound where she took 29 minutes to move, they had since come to believe that she had failed because, according to national standards, at least three movements were required. They also blamed a strict adherence to the 39-week guideline. And they encouraged the hospital staff to read more on umbilical cord accidents and acute polyhydramnios, which they later learned carries an increased stillbirth risk.

The positive feelings they had from speaking up were replaced by dismay when the hospital responded with a three-paragraph letter, signed by seven doctors and eight nurses. They said they had reexamined each medical decision in her case and concluded they had made “the best decisions medically possible.” They expressed their sympathy and said it was “so very heartwarming that you are trying to turn your tragic loss into something that will benefit others.”

Amanda felt dismissed by the medical team all over again. She didn’t expect them to admit fault, but she said she hoped that they would at least learn from Reese’s death to do things differently in the future. She was angry, and hurt, and knew that she would need to find a new doctor.

A spokesperson for the University of Minnesota Medical School told ProPublica she could not comment on individual patient cases and did not respond to questions about general protocols. “We share the physicians’ condolences,” she wrote, adding that the doctors and the university “are dedicated to delivering high quality, accessible and inclusive health care.”

For many expectant parents, it’s hard to muster the courage to call a doctor about something they’re not even sure is a problem.

“Moms self-censor a lot. No one wants to be that mom that all the doctors are rolling their eyes at because she’s freaking out over nothing,” said Samantha Banerjee, executive director of PUSH for Empowered Pregnancy, a nonprofit based in New York state that works to prevent stillbirths. Banerjee’s daughter, Alana, was stillborn two days before her due date.

In addition to raising awareness that stillbirths can happen even in low-risk pregnancies, PUSH teaches pregnant people how to advocate for themselves. The volunteers advise them to put their requests in writing and not to spend time drinking juice or lying on their side if they are worried about their baby’s lack of movement. In the majority of cases, a call or visit to the hospital reassures them.

But, the group tells parents, if their baby is in distress, calling their doctor can save their life.

Debbie Haine Vijayvergiya is fighting another narrative: that stillbirths are a rare fluke that “just happen.” When her daughter Autumn Joy was born without a heartbeat in 2011, Haine Vijayvergiya said, her doctor told her having a stillborn baby was as rare as being struck by lightning.

She believed him, but then she looked up the odds of a lightning strike and found they are less than one in a million – and most people survive. In 2020, according to the CDC, there was one stillbirth for about every 175 births.

“I’ve spoken to more women than I can count that said, ‘I raised the red flag, and I was sent home. I was told to eat a piece of cake and have some orange juice and lay on my left side,’ only to wake up the next day and their baby is not alive,” said Haine Vijayvergiya, a New Jersey mother and maternal health advocate.

She has fought for more than a decade to pass stillbirth legislation as her daughter’s legacy. Her current undertaking is her most ambitious. The federal Stillbirth Health Improvement and Education (SHINE) for Autumn Act, named after her daughter, would authorize $9 million a year for five years in federal funding for research, better data collection and training for fetal autopsies. But it is currently sitting in the Senate Committee on Health, Education, Labor, and Pensions.

Not all stillbirths are preventable, and medical experts agree more research is needed to determine who is most at risk and which babies can potentially be saved. Complicating matters is the wide range of risk factors, including hypertension and diabetes, smoking, obesity, being pregnant with multiples, being 35 or older and having had a previous stillbirth.

ProPublica reported this summer on how the U.S. botched the rollout of COVID-19 vaccines for pregnant people, who faced an increased risk for stillbirth if they were unvaccinated and contracted the virus, especially during the Delta wave.

Doctors often work to balance the risk of stillbirth with other dangers, particularly an increased chance of being admitted to neonatal intensive care units or even death of the baby if it is born too early. ACOG and the Society for Maternal-Fetal Medicine have issued guidance to try to slow a rise in elective deliveries before 39 weeks and the potential harm that can result. The Joint Commission, a national accrediting organization, began evaluating hospitals in 2010 based on that standard.

A 2019 study found that the risks of stillbirth slightly increased after the rule went into effect, but fewer infants died after birth. Other studies have not found an effect on stillbirths.

Last year, the obstetric groups updated their guidance to allow doctors to consider an early delivery if a woman has anxiety and a history of stillbirth, writing that a previous stillbirth “may” warrant an early delivery for patients who understand and accept the risks. For those who have previously had a stillbirth, one modeling analysis found that 38 weeks is the optimal timing of delivery, considering the increased risk of another stillbirth.

“A woman who has had a previous stillbirth at 37 weeks – one could argue that it’s cruel and unusual punishment to make her go to 39 weeks with her next pregnancy, although that is the current recommendation,” said Dr. Neil Mandsager, a maternal-fetal medicine specialist in Iowa and a medical advisor to a stillbirth prevention nonprofit.

At or after 40 weeks, the risk of stillbirth increases, especially for women 35 or older. Their risk, research shows, is doubled from 39 weeks to 40 and is more than six times as high at 42 weeks. In 2019 and 2020, a combined 1,200 stillbirths occurred between 40 and 42 weeks, according to the most recent CDC data.

Deciding when a patient should deliver entails weighing the risks to the mother and the infant against a possible stillbirth as the pregnancy continues, said Dr. Mark Turrentine, chair of ACOG’s Clinical Consensus Committee-Obstetrics, which helped create the guidance on managing a stillbirth. He said ACOG has addressed stillbirth in other documents and extensively in its 2021 guidance on fetal surveillance and testing, which is done to reduce the risk of stillbirth.

ACOG said it routinely reviewed its guidance on management of stillbirth but was unable to make significant updates “due to the lack of new, evidence-based research.” While prevention is a great concern to ACOG, Turrentine said it’s difficult to know how many stillbirths are preventable.

He said it’s standard practice for doctors to ask about fetal movement, and ACOG updated its guidance after new research became available. Doctors also need to include patients in decision-making and tailor care to them, he said, whether that›s using aspirin in patients at high risk of preeclampsia – a serious high blood pressure condition during pregnancy – or ordering additional tests.

After Reese’s death, Amanda and Chris Duffy wanted to get pregnant again. They sought out an obstetrician-gynecologist who would educate and listen to them. They set up several consultations until they found Dr. Emily Hawes-Van Pelt, who was recommended by another family who had had a stillbirth.

Hawes-Van Pelt cried with Amanda and Chris at their first meeting.

“I told her I was scared to be involved,” Hawes-Van Pelt said. “It’s such a tricky subsequent pregnancy because there’s so much worry and anxiety about the horrible, awful thing happening again.”

Amanda’s fear of delivering another dead baby led to an all-consuming anxiety, but Hawes-Van Pelt supported her when she asked for additional monitoring, testing and an early delivery.

When Hawes-Van Pelt switched practices midway through Amanda’s pregnancy, Amanda followed her. But the new hospital pushed back on the early delivery.

“We intervene early for poorly controlled diabetes,” Hawes-Van Pelt said. “We intervene early for all sorts of medical issues. Anxiety and prior stillbirth are two medical issues that we can intervene earlier for.”

Hawes-Van Pelt said she learned a lot from caring for Amanda, who made her reevaluate some of her own assumptions around stillbirths.

“I had a horrible fear of scaring women unnecessarily, and then realized that I was just not preparing women or educating them because of my own fears around it,” she said. “If you can carry a human being in your body and birth that human being and take care of it, you can hear those words.”

The hospital eventually agreed to let Hawes-Van Pelt schedule Amanda for a 37-week C-section. But after Amanda was again diagnosed with polyhydramnios, she went in for a C-section even earlier. She gave birth in 2015 to a healthy boy she and Chris named Rhett. Two years later, Amanda and Hawes-Van Pelt followed the same pregnancy plan, and she delivered a girl named Maeda Reese. Amanda chose the name because, when said quickly, it sounds like “made of Reese.”

Federal agencies, national organizations and state and city officials have mobilized in recent years to address maternal mortality, when mothers die during pregnancy, at delivery or soon after childbirth. They have focused on improving data collection, passing legislation and creating awareness campaigns that encourage medical professionals and others to listen when women say something doesn›t feel right.

In 2017, ProPublica and NPR documented the U.S. maternal mortality crisis, including alarming racial disparities.

According to CDC data, Black women face nearly three times the risk of maternal mortality. They also are more than twice – and in some states close to three times – as likely to have a stillbirth than white women, meaning not only are Black mothers dying at a disproportionate rate, so are their babies.

Janet Petersen, a state senator from Iowa, said it gives her hope to see how the country has turned its attention to maternal mortality and disparities in health care. She simply cannot understand why stillbirth isn’t being met with the same urgency.

In 2020, the CDC reported 861 mothers died either while pregnant or within six weeks of giving birth. That same year, 20,854 babies were stillborn.

Stillbirth, Petersen said, is a missing piece of the puzzle. Research shows the likelihood of severe maternal complications was more than four times higher for pregnancies that ended in stillbirths, and mothers who died within six weeks of delivery were more likely to have had a stillbirth.

“We see it over and over again that stillbirth is one of the maternal health care issues that continuously gets ignored,” said Petersen, a Democrat.

Petersen was a young legislator in 2003 when her daughter Grace was born still. Devastated, she thought of her grandmother, who lost a baby to stillbirth in 1920, just a few weeks before women got the right to vote.

“I was laying in my hospital bed thinking, ‘How could this still be happening in our country?’” Petersen recalled. “And it seemed, from the medical perspective, that, well, stillbirth happens. We can’t do anything to prevent them.”

Over the next few months, Petersen heard from other mothers who had lost their babies and wanted to spark change. As an elected official, Petersen was in a position to do that. In 2004, she introduced legislation that required the Iowa Department of Public Health to create a stillbirths work group, later securing funding through the CDC to create a stillbirth registry.

But the CDC didn’t renew the funding and never analyzed the data from the registry, though a CDC spokesperson said the Iowa Department of Public Health examined the data. Officials from the department did not respond to requests for comment.

Petersen and her fellow mothers pivoted. After hearing how researchers in Norway were able to increase awareness around fetal movement, they co-founded a nonprofit aimed at doing the same in the U.S.

The group, Healthy Birth Day, created colorful “Count the Kicks” pamphlets – and later an app – teaching pregnant people how to track a baby’s movements and establish what is normal for them. Monitoring a baby’s movements is the earliest and sometimes only indication that something may be wrong, said Emily Price, chief executive officer of Healthy Birth Day. One of the organization’s main messages is for pregnant people to speak up and clinicians to listen.

“Unfortunately, there are still doctors who brush women off or send them home when they come in with a complaint of a change in their baby’s movements,” Price said. “And babies are dying because of it.”

One Indiana county, which recorded 65 stillbirths from 2017 through 2019, reported that 74% had either some chance or a good chance of prevention, according to St. Joseph County Department of Health’s Fetal Infant Mortality Review program. For mothers who experienced decreased fetal movement in the few hours or days before the stillbirth, that estimate jumped to 90%.

Although there is not a scientific consensus that kick counting can prevent stillbirths, national groups, including ACOG, recommend that medical professionals encourage their patients to be aware of fetal movement patterns. ACOG also advises medical professionals to be attentive to a mother’s concerns about reduced movement and address them “in a systematic way.”

One complaint the CDC hears too often, an agency spokesperson said, is that pregnant people and those who gave birth recently find that their concerns are dismissed or ignored. “Listening and taking the concerns of pregnant and recently pregnant people seriously,” she said, “is a simple, yet powerful action to prevent serious health complications and even death.”

The CDC, she said, is “very interested” in expanding its research on stillbirth, which is “a crucial part of the development of any awareness or prevention campaigns.” In addition to working to improve its stillbirth data quality, the agency has funded some pilot programs at the city and state level to better track stillbirths, survey people who have had a stillbirth and research risk factors and causes. The Iowa registry, she said, led the CDC to fund different research projects in Arkansas and Massachusetts, which are ongoing.

In 2009, the CDC acknowledged that fetal mortality remained a “major, but often overlooked, public health problem.” Officials wrote that much of the public health concern had been focused on infant mortality “in part due to lesser awareness of the magnitude of fetal mortality, its causes, and prevention strategies.”

But little has changed over the past 13 years. Echoing its earlier message, the CDC this year declared that “much work remains” and that “stillbirth is not often viewed as a public health issue, so increased awareness is key.”

A spokesperson for the Eunice Kennedy Shriver National Institute of Child Health and Human Development, which is part of the NIH, said the agency has continually funded research on stillbirths, even after one of its key studies ended. The agency, she said, also supports research on conditions that increase the risk of stillbirth.

As a scientific research institute, it does not issue clinical guidelines or recommendations, she said, though it did launch the Safe to Sleep campaign in 1994, two decades after Congress put it in charge of SIDS federal research efforts. That campaign, which educates parents and caregivers on ways to reduce the risk of SIDS, highlights recommendations issued by the American Academy of Pediatrics. She said the agency will continue to collaborate with organizations that raise awareness about stillbirth and other pregnancy complications “to amplify their messages and efforts.”

“NICHD continues to support research on the prevention, causes, frequency, and risk factors of stillbirth,” the spokesperson said in an email. “Our commitment to enhancing understanding of stillbirth and improving outcomes focuses on building the scientific knowledge base.”

But getting laws on the books that could raise awareness around stillbirth – even when they don’t require additional funding – has been a struggle. Petersen and Price are pushing Congress to pass legislation that would add stillbirth research and prevention to the list of activities approved for federal maternal health dollars.

Though the bill doesn’t ask for any additional funding, it has not yet passed.

In addition, the SHINE for Autumn Act breezed through the House of Representatives in December 2021. After Haine Vijayvergiya, the New Jersey mother who has championed it, secured bipartisan support from U.S. Sens. Cory Booker, D-N.J., and Marco Rubio, R-Fla., she thought the most comprehensive stillbirth legislation in U.S. history would finally become law.

Neither bill has sparked controversy.

But months after press releases announced the SHINE legislation and referred to the U.S. stillbirth rate as “unacceptable,” lawmakers and the families they represent are running out of time as this session of Congress prepares to adjourn.

“From the day that the bill was introduced into the Senate,” Haine Vijayvergiya said, “approximately 13,000 babies have been born still.”

Last month, on a brilliant fall day much like the one when Reese was stillborn, Amanda Duffy bent down to kiss her son Rogen’s head before they walked on stage.

She wore a soft blue T-shirt tucked into her jeans that read “Be courageous.” The message was as much for her as it was for the crowd on the National Mall in Washington, D.C., many of them like her, mothers who didn’t know stillbirth happened until it happened to them. Since Reese’s death, she has coached doctors and nurses on improving care for patients who have suffered pregnancy loss. Among her many suggestions, she tells them their first words when a concerned patient reaches out should be “I’m so glad you called.”

A few hundred people had gathered for The Big PUSH to End Preventable Stillbirth, billed as the first-ever march on the issue. As part of an art installation, Amanda wrote a note to Reese: “You’re pretty magical & for that I’m grateful. You’re a change maker and you are so very loved. Love, Mama.” Before she slipped the folded paper into a sea of more than 20,000 baby hats, Rogen added his own message: “Hope you are having a good time – Rogen.”

Reese would have turned 8 this month.

Before Amanda spoke, she took a deep breath and silenced her nerves. She walked onto the stage and called on Congress to pass the stillbirth legislation before it. She didn’t ask. She demanded.

“It’s time to empower pregnant people and their care providers with information that leads to prevention,” she insisted.

With the afternoon sun bearing down, Amanda and Rogen disappeared into the crowd of families marching toward the Capitol. Many carried signs. Some pushed empty strollers. Amanda was still wearing the orange-scented oil she had rubbed on her wrists that morning.

This story was originally published on ProPublica. ProPublica is a nonprofit newsroom that investigates abuses of power. Sign up to receive their biggest stories as soon as they’re published

The day before doctors had scheduled Amanda Duffy to give birth, the baby jolted her awake with a kick.

A few hours later, on that bright Sunday in November 2014, she leaned back on a park bench to watch her 19-month-old son Rogen enjoy his final day of being an only child. In that moment of calm, she realized that the kick that morning was the last time she had felt the baby move.

She told herself not to worry. She had heard that babies can slow down toward the end of a pregnancy and remembered reading that sugary snacks and cold fluids can stimulate a baby’s movement. When she got back to the family’s home in suburban Minneapolis, she drank a large glass of ice water and grabbed a few Tootsie Rolls off the kitchen counter.

But something about seeing her husband, Chris, lace up his shoes to leave for a run prompted her to blurt out, “I haven’t felt the baby kick.”

Chris called Amanda’s doctor, and they headed to the hospital to be checked. Once there, a nurse maneuvered a fetal monitor around Amanda’s belly. When she had trouble locating a heartbeat, she remarked that the baby must be tucked in tight. The doctor walked into the room, turned the screen away from Amanda and Chris and began searching. She was sorry, Amanda remembers her telling them, but she could not find a heartbeat.

Amanda let out a guttural scream. She said the doctor quickly performed an internal exam, which detected faint heart activity, then rushed Amanda into an emergency cesarean section.

She woke up to the sound of doctors talking to Chris. She listened but couldn’t bring herself to face the news. Her doctor told her she needed to open her eyes.

Amanda, then 31, couldn’t fathom that her daughter had died. She said her doctors had never discussed stillbirth with her. It was not mentioned in any of the pregnancy materials she had read. She didn’t even know that stillbirth was a possibility.

But every year more than 20,000 pregnancies in the United States end in stillbirth, the death of an expected child at 20 weeks or more. That number has exceeded infant mortality every year for the last 10 years. It’s 15 times the number of babies who, according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, died of Sudden Infant Death Syndrome, or SIDS, in 2020.

The deaths are not inevitable. One study found that nearly one in four U.S. stillbirths may be preventable. For pregnancies that last 37 weeks or more, that research shows, the figure jumps to nearly half. Thousands more babies could potentially be delivered safely every year.

But federal agencies have not prioritized critical stillbirth-focused studies that could lead to fewer deaths. Nearly two decades ago, both the CDC and the National Institutes of Health launched key stillbirth tracking and research studies, but the agencies ended those projects within about a decade. The CDC never analyzed some of the data that was collected.

Unlike with SIDS, a leading cause of infant death, federal officials have failed to launch a national campaign to reduce the risk of stillbirth or adequately raise awareness about it. Placental exams and autopsies, which can sometimes explain why stillbirths happened, are underutilized, in part because parents are not counseled on their benefits.

Federal agencies, state health departments, hospitals and doctors have also done a poor job of educating expectant parents about stillbirth or diligently counseling on fetal movement, despite research showing that patients who have had a stillbirth are more likely to have experienced abnormal fetal movements, including decreased activity. Neither the CDC nor the NIH have consistently promoted guidance telling those who are pregnant to be aware of their babies’ movement in the womb as a way to possibly reduce their risk of stillbirth.

The American College of Obstetricians and Gynecologists, the nation’s leading obstetrics organization, has been slow to update its own guidance to doctors on managing a stillbirth. In 2009, ACOG issued a set of guidelines that included a single paragraph regarding fetal movement. Those guidelines weren’t significantly updated for another 11 years.

Perhaps it’s no surprise that federal goals for reducing stillbirths keep moving in the wrong direction. In 2005, the U.S. stillbirth rate was 6.2 per 1,000 live births. The U.S. Department of Health and Human Services, in an effort to eliminate health disparities and establish a target that was “better than the best racial or ethnic group rate,” set a goal of reducing it to 4.1 for 2010. When that wasn’t met, federal officials changed their approach and set what they called more “science-based” and “realistic” goals, raising the 2020 target to 5.6. The U.S. still fell short. The 2030 goal of 5.7 was so attainable that it was met before the decade started. The 2020 rate, the most current according to the CDC, is 5.74.

By comparison, other wealthy countries have implemented national action plans to prevent stillbirth through awareness, research and care. Among other approaches, those countries have focused on increasing education around stillbirth and the importance of a baby’s movements, reducing rates of smoking and identifying fetuses that grow too slowly in the womb.

The efforts have paid off. The Netherlands, for instance, has reduced its rate of stillbirths at 28 weeks or later by more than half, from 5.2 in 2000 to 2.3 in 2019, according to a study published last year in The Lancet.

Dr. Bob Silver, chair of the obstetrics/gynecology department at University of Utah Health and a leading stillbirth expert, coauthored the study that estimated nearly one in four stillbirths are potentially preventable, a figure he referred to as conservative. He called on federal agencies to declare stillbirth reduction a priority the same way they have done for premature birth and maternal mortality.

“I’d like to see us say we really want to reduce the rate of stillbirth and raise awareness and try to do all of the reasonable things that may contribute to reducing stillbirths that other countries have done,” Silver said.

The lack of comprehensive attention and action has contributed to a stillbirth crisis, shrouded in an acceptance that some babies just die. Compounding the tragedy is a stigma and guilt so crushing that the first words some mothers utter when their lifeless babies are placed in their arms are “I’m sorry.”

In the hospital room, Amanda Duffy finally opened her eyes. She named her daughter Reese Christine, the name she had picked out for her before they found out she had died. She was 8 pounds, 3 ounces and 20 1/2 inches long and was born with her umbilical cord wrapped tightly around her neck twice. The baby was still warm when the nurse placed her in Amanda’s arms. Amanda was struck by how lovely her daughter was. Rosy skin. Chris’ red hair. Rogen’s chubby cheeks.

As Amanda held Reese, Chris hunched over the toilet, vomiting. Later that night, as he lay next to Amanda on the hospital bed, he held his daughter. He hadn’t initially wanted to see her. He worried she would be disfigured or, worse, that she would be beautiful and he would fall apart when he couldn’t take her home.

The nurses taught Amanda and Chris how to grieve and love simultaneously. One nurse told Amanda how cute Reese was and asked if she could hold her. Another placed ice packs in Reese’s swaddle to preserve her body so Amanda could keep holding her. Amanda asked the nurses to tuck cotton balls soaked in an orange scent into Reese’s blanket so the smell would trigger the memory of her daughter. And just as if Reese had been born alive, the nurses took pictures and made prints of her hands and feet.

“I felt such a deep, abiding love for her,” Amanda said. “And I was so proud to be her mom.”

On the way home from the hospital, Amanda broke down at the sight of Reese’s empty car seat. The next few weeks passed in a sleep-filled fog punctuated by intense periods of crying. The smell of oranges wrecked her. Her breast milk coming in was agonizing, physically and emotionally. She wore sports bras stuffed with ice packs to ease the pain and dry up her milk supply. While Rogen was at day care, she sobbed in his bed.

In the months that followed, Amanda and Chris searched for answers and wondered whether their medical team had missed warning signs. Late at night, Amanda turned to Google to find information about stillbirths. She mailed her medical records to a doctor who studies stillbirths, who she said told her that Reese’s death could have been prevented. They briefly discussed legal action against her doctors, but she said a lawyer told her it would be difficult to sue.

Amanda and Chris pinpointed her last two months of pregnancy as the time things started to go wrong. She had been diagnosed with polyhydramnios, meaning there was excess amniotic fluid in the womb. Her doctor had scheduled additional weekly testing.

One of those ultrasounds revealed problems with the blood flow in the umbilical cord. Reese’s cord also appeared to be wrapped around her neck, Amanda said later, but was told that was less of a concern, since it occurs in about 20% of normal deliveries. At another appointment, Amanda’s medical records show, Reese failed the portion of a test that measures fetal breathing movements.

At 37 weeks, Amanda told one of the midwives the baby’s movements felt different, but, she said, the midwife told her that it was common for movements to feel weaker with polyhydramnios. At that point, Amanda felt her baby was safer outside than inside and, her medical records show, she asked to schedule a C-section.

Despite voicing concerns about a change in the baby’s movement and asking to deliver earlier, Amanda said she and her husband were told by her midwife she couldn’t deliver for another two weeks. The doctor “continues to advise 39wks,” her medical records show. Waiting until 39 weeks is usually based on a guideline that deliveries should not happen before then unless a medical condition specifically warrants it, because early delivery can lead to complications.

Amanda would have to wait until 39 weeks and one day because, she said, her doctors didn’t typically do elective deliveries on weekends. Amanda was disappointed but said she trusted her team of doctors and midwives.

“I’m not a pushy person,” she said. “My husband is not a pushy person. That was out of our comfort zone to be, like, ‘What are we waiting for?’ But really what we wanted them to say was ‘We should deliver you.’”

Amanda’s final appointment was a maximum 30-minute-long ultrasound that combined a number of assessments to check amniotic fluid, fetal muscle tone, breathing and body movement. After 29 minutes of inactivity, Amanda said, the baby moved a hand. In the parking lot, Amanda called her mother, crying in relief. Four more days, she told her.

Less than 24 hours before the scheduled C-section, Reese was stillborn.

Four months after her death, Amanda, then a career advisor at the University of Minnesota, and Chris, a public relations specialist, wrote a letter to the University of Minnesota Medical Center, where Amanda had given birth to her dead daughter. They said they had “no ill feelings” toward anyone, but “it pains us to know that her death could’ve been prevented if we would have been sent to labor and delivery following that ultrasound.”

They noted that though they were told that Reese had passed the final ultrasound where she took 29 minutes to move, they had since come to believe that she had failed because, according to national standards, at least three movements were required. They also blamed a strict adherence to the 39-week guideline. And they encouraged the hospital staff to read more on umbilical cord accidents and acute polyhydramnios, which they later learned carries an increased stillbirth risk.

The positive feelings they had from speaking up were replaced by dismay when the hospital responded with a three-paragraph letter, signed by seven doctors and eight nurses. They said they had reexamined each medical decision in her case and concluded they had made “the best decisions medically possible.” They expressed their sympathy and said it was “so very heartwarming that you are trying to turn your tragic loss into something that will benefit others.”

Amanda felt dismissed by the medical team all over again. She didn’t expect them to admit fault, but she said she hoped that they would at least learn from Reese’s death to do things differently in the future. She was angry, and hurt, and knew that she would need to find a new doctor.

A spokesperson for the University of Minnesota Medical School told ProPublica she could not comment on individual patient cases and did not respond to questions about general protocols. “We share the physicians’ condolences,” she wrote, adding that the doctors and the university “are dedicated to delivering high quality, accessible and inclusive health care.”

For many expectant parents, it’s hard to muster the courage to call a doctor about something they’re not even sure is a problem.

“Moms self-censor a lot. No one wants to be that mom that all the doctors are rolling their eyes at because she’s freaking out over nothing,” said Samantha Banerjee, executive director of PUSH for Empowered Pregnancy, a nonprofit based in New York state that works to prevent stillbirths. Banerjee’s daughter, Alana, was stillborn two days before her due date.

In addition to raising awareness that stillbirths can happen even in low-risk pregnancies, PUSH teaches pregnant people how to advocate for themselves. The volunteers advise them to put their requests in writing and not to spend time drinking juice or lying on their side if they are worried about their baby’s lack of movement. In the majority of cases, a call or visit to the hospital reassures them.

But, the group tells parents, if their baby is in distress, calling their doctor can save their life.

Debbie Haine Vijayvergiya is fighting another narrative: that stillbirths are a rare fluke that “just happen.” When her daughter Autumn Joy was born without a heartbeat in 2011, Haine Vijayvergiya said, her doctor told her having a stillborn baby was as rare as being struck by lightning.

She believed him, but then she looked up the odds of a lightning strike and found they are less than one in a million – and most people survive. In 2020, according to the CDC, there was one stillbirth for about every 175 births.

“I’ve spoken to more women than I can count that said, ‘I raised the red flag, and I was sent home. I was told to eat a piece of cake and have some orange juice and lay on my left side,’ only to wake up the next day and their baby is not alive,” said Haine Vijayvergiya, a New Jersey mother and maternal health advocate.

She has fought for more than a decade to pass stillbirth legislation as her daughter’s legacy. Her current undertaking is her most ambitious. The federal Stillbirth Health Improvement and Education (SHINE) for Autumn Act, named after her daughter, would authorize $9 million a year for five years in federal funding for research, better data collection and training for fetal autopsies. But it is currently sitting in the Senate Committee on Health, Education, Labor, and Pensions.

Not all stillbirths are preventable, and medical experts agree more research is needed to determine who is most at risk and which babies can potentially be saved. Complicating matters is the wide range of risk factors, including hypertension and diabetes, smoking, obesity, being pregnant with multiples, being 35 or older and having had a previous stillbirth.

ProPublica reported this summer on how the U.S. botched the rollout of COVID-19 vaccines for pregnant people, who faced an increased risk for stillbirth if they were unvaccinated and contracted the virus, especially during the Delta wave.

Doctors often work to balance the risk of stillbirth with other dangers, particularly an increased chance of being admitted to neonatal intensive care units or even death of the baby if it is born too early. ACOG and the Society for Maternal-Fetal Medicine have issued guidance to try to slow a rise in elective deliveries before 39 weeks and the potential harm that can result. The Joint Commission, a national accrediting organization, began evaluating hospitals in 2010 based on that standard.

A 2019 study found that the risks of stillbirth slightly increased after the rule went into effect, but fewer infants died after birth. Other studies have not found an effect on stillbirths.

Last year, the obstetric groups updated their guidance to allow doctors to consider an early delivery if a woman has anxiety and a history of stillbirth, writing that a previous stillbirth “may” warrant an early delivery for patients who understand and accept the risks. For those who have previously had a stillbirth, one modeling analysis found that 38 weeks is the optimal timing of delivery, considering the increased risk of another stillbirth.

“A woman who has had a previous stillbirth at 37 weeks – one could argue that it’s cruel and unusual punishment to make her go to 39 weeks with her next pregnancy, although that is the current recommendation,” said Dr. Neil Mandsager, a maternal-fetal medicine specialist in Iowa and a medical advisor to a stillbirth prevention nonprofit.

At or after 40 weeks, the risk of stillbirth increases, especially for women 35 or older. Their risk, research shows, is doubled from 39 weeks to 40 and is more than six times as high at 42 weeks. In 2019 and 2020, a combined 1,200 stillbirths occurred between 40 and 42 weeks, according to the most recent CDC data.

Deciding when a patient should deliver entails weighing the risks to the mother and the infant against a possible stillbirth as the pregnancy continues, said Dr. Mark Turrentine, chair of ACOG’s Clinical Consensus Committee-Obstetrics, which helped create the guidance on managing a stillbirth. He said ACOG has addressed stillbirth in other documents and extensively in its 2021 guidance on fetal surveillance and testing, which is done to reduce the risk of stillbirth.

ACOG said it routinely reviewed its guidance on management of stillbirth but was unable to make significant updates “due to the lack of new, evidence-based research.” While prevention is a great concern to ACOG, Turrentine said it’s difficult to know how many stillbirths are preventable.

He said it’s standard practice for doctors to ask about fetal movement, and ACOG updated its guidance after new research became available. Doctors also need to include patients in decision-making and tailor care to them, he said, whether that›s using aspirin in patients at high risk of preeclampsia – a serious high blood pressure condition during pregnancy – or ordering additional tests.

After Reese’s death, Amanda and Chris Duffy wanted to get pregnant again. They sought out an obstetrician-gynecologist who would educate and listen to them. They set up several consultations until they found Dr. Emily Hawes-Van Pelt, who was recommended by another family who had had a stillbirth.

Hawes-Van Pelt cried with Amanda and Chris at their first meeting.

“I told her I was scared to be involved,” Hawes-Van Pelt said. “It’s such a tricky subsequent pregnancy because there’s so much worry and anxiety about the horrible, awful thing happening again.”

Amanda’s fear of delivering another dead baby led to an all-consuming anxiety, but Hawes-Van Pelt supported her when she asked for additional monitoring, testing and an early delivery.

When Hawes-Van Pelt switched practices midway through Amanda’s pregnancy, Amanda followed her. But the new hospital pushed back on the early delivery.

“We intervene early for poorly controlled diabetes,” Hawes-Van Pelt said. “We intervene early for all sorts of medical issues. Anxiety and prior stillbirth are two medical issues that we can intervene earlier for.”

Hawes-Van Pelt said she learned a lot from caring for Amanda, who made her reevaluate some of her own assumptions around stillbirths.

“I had a horrible fear of scaring women unnecessarily, and then realized that I was just not preparing women or educating them because of my own fears around it,” she said. “If you can carry a human being in your body and birth that human being and take care of it, you can hear those words.”

The hospital eventually agreed to let Hawes-Van Pelt schedule Amanda for a 37-week C-section. But after Amanda was again diagnosed with polyhydramnios, she went in for a C-section even earlier. She gave birth in 2015 to a healthy boy she and Chris named Rhett. Two years later, Amanda and Hawes-Van Pelt followed the same pregnancy plan, and she delivered a girl named Maeda Reese. Amanda chose the name because, when said quickly, it sounds like “made of Reese.”

Federal agencies, national organizations and state and city officials have mobilized in recent years to address maternal mortality, when mothers die during pregnancy, at delivery or soon after childbirth. They have focused on improving data collection, passing legislation and creating awareness campaigns that encourage medical professionals and others to listen when women say something doesn›t feel right.

In 2017, ProPublica and NPR documented the U.S. maternal mortality crisis, including alarming racial disparities.

According to CDC data, Black women face nearly three times the risk of maternal mortality. They also are more than twice – and in some states close to three times – as likely to have a stillbirth than white women, meaning not only are Black mothers dying at a disproportionate rate, so are their babies.

Janet Petersen, a state senator from Iowa, said it gives her hope to see how the country has turned its attention to maternal mortality and disparities in health care. She simply cannot understand why stillbirth isn’t being met with the same urgency.

In 2020, the CDC reported 861 mothers died either while pregnant or within six weeks of giving birth. That same year, 20,854 babies were stillborn.

Stillbirth, Petersen said, is a missing piece of the puzzle. Research shows the likelihood of severe maternal complications was more than four times higher for pregnancies that ended in stillbirths, and mothers who died within six weeks of delivery were more likely to have had a stillbirth.

“We see it over and over again that stillbirth is one of the maternal health care issues that continuously gets ignored,” said Petersen, a Democrat.

Petersen was a young legislator in 2003 when her daughter Grace was born still. Devastated, she thought of her grandmother, who lost a baby to stillbirth in 1920, just a few weeks before women got the right to vote.

“I was laying in my hospital bed thinking, ‘How could this still be happening in our country?’” Petersen recalled. “And it seemed, from the medical perspective, that, well, stillbirth happens. We can’t do anything to prevent them.”

Over the next few months, Petersen heard from other mothers who had lost their babies and wanted to spark change. As an elected official, Petersen was in a position to do that. In 2004, she introduced legislation that required the Iowa Department of Public Health to create a stillbirths work group, later securing funding through the CDC to create a stillbirth registry.

But the CDC didn’t renew the funding and never analyzed the data from the registry, though a CDC spokesperson said the Iowa Department of Public Health examined the data. Officials from the department did not respond to requests for comment.

Petersen and her fellow mothers pivoted. After hearing how researchers in Norway were able to increase awareness around fetal movement, they co-founded a nonprofit aimed at doing the same in the U.S.

The group, Healthy Birth Day, created colorful “Count the Kicks” pamphlets – and later an app – teaching pregnant people how to track a baby’s movements and establish what is normal for them. Monitoring a baby’s movements is the earliest and sometimes only indication that something may be wrong, said Emily Price, chief executive officer of Healthy Birth Day. One of the organization’s main messages is for pregnant people to speak up and clinicians to listen.

“Unfortunately, there are still doctors who brush women off or send them home when they come in with a complaint of a change in their baby’s movements,” Price said. “And babies are dying because of it.”

One Indiana county, which recorded 65 stillbirths from 2017 through 2019, reported that 74% had either some chance or a good chance of prevention, according to St. Joseph County Department of Health’s Fetal Infant Mortality Review program. For mothers who experienced decreased fetal movement in the few hours or days before the stillbirth, that estimate jumped to 90%.

Although there is not a scientific consensus that kick counting can prevent stillbirths, national groups, including ACOG, recommend that medical professionals encourage their patients to be aware of fetal movement patterns. ACOG also advises medical professionals to be attentive to a mother’s concerns about reduced movement and address them “in a systematic way.”

One complaint the CDC hears too often, an agency spokesperson said, is that pregnant people and those who gave birth recently find that their concerns are dismissed or ignored. “Listening and taking the concerns of pregnant and recently pregnant people seriously,” she said, “is a simple, yet powerful action to prevent serious health complications and even death.”

The CDC, she said, is “very interested” in expanding its research on stillbirth, which is “a crucial part of the development of any awareness or prevention campaigns.” In addition to working to improve its stillbirth data quality, the agency has funded some pilot programs at the city and state level to better track stillbirths, survey people who have had a stillbirth and research risk factors and causes. The Iowa registry, she said, led the CDC to fund different research projects in Arkansas and Massachusetts, which are ongoing.

In 2009, the CDC acknowledged that fetal mortality remained a “major, but often overlooked, public health problem.” Officials wrote that much of the public health concern had been focused on infant mortality “in part due to lesser awareness of the magnitude of fetal mortality, its causes, and prevention strategies.”

But little has changed over the past 13 years. Echoing its earlier message, the CDC this year declared that “much work remains” and that “stillbirth is not often viewed as a public health issue, so increased awareness is key.”

A spokesperson for the Eunice Kennedy Shriver National Institute of Child Health and Human Development, which is part of the NIH, said the agency has continually funded research on stillbirths, even after one of its key studies ended. The agency, she said, also supports research on conditions that increase the risk of stillbirth.

As a scientific research institute, it does not issue clinical guidelines or recommendations, she said, though it did launch the Safe to Sleep campaign in 1994, two decades after Congress put it in charge of SIDS federal research efforts. That campaign, which educates parents and caregivers on ways to reduce the risk of SIDS, highlights recommendations issued by the American Academy of Pediatrics. She said the agency will continue to collaborate with organizations that raise awareness about stillbirth and other pregnancy complications “to amplify their messages and efforts.”

“NICHD continues to support research on the prevention, causes, frequency, and risk factors of stillbirth,” the spokesperson said in an email. “Our commitment to enhancing understanding of stillbirth and improving outcomes focuses on building the scientific knowledge base.”

But getting laws on the books that could raise awareness around stillbirth – even when they don’t require additional funding – has been a struggle. Petersen and Price are pushing Congress to pass legislation that would add stillbirth research and prevention to the list of activities approved for federal maternal health dollars.

Though the bill doesn’t ask for any additional funding, it has not yet passed.

In addition, the SHINE for Autumn Act breezed through the House of Representatives in December 2021. After Haine Vijayvergiya, the New Jersey mother who has championed it, secured bipartisan support from U.S. Sens. Cory Booker, D-N.J., and Marco Rubio, R-Fla., she thought the most comprehensive stillbirth legislation in U.S. history would finally become law.

Neither bill has sparked controversy.

But months after press releases announced the SHINE legislation and referred to the U.S. stillbirth rate as “unacceptable,” lawmakers and the families they represent are running out of time as this session of Congress prepares to adjourn.

“From the day that the bill was introduced into the Senate,” Haine Vijayvergiya said, “approximately 13,000 babies have been born still.”

Last month, on a brilliant fall day much like the one when Reese was stillborn, Amanda Duffy bent down to kiss her son Rogen’s head before they walked on stage.

She wore a soft blue T-shirt tucked into her jeans that read “Be courageous.” The message was as much for her as it was for the crowd on the National Mall in Washington, D.C., many of them like her, mothers who didn’t know stillbirth happened until it happened to them. Since Reese’s death, she has coached doctors and nurses on improving care for patients who have suffered pregnancy loss. Among her many suggestions, she tells them their first words when a concerned patient reaches out should be “I’m so glad you called.”

A few hundred people had gathered for The Big PUSH to End Preventable Stillbirth, billed as the first-ever march on the issue. As part of an art installation, Amanda wrote a note to Reese: “You’re pretty magical & for that I’m grateful. You’re a change maker and you are so very loved. Love, Mama.” Before she slipped the folded paper into a sea of more than 20,000 baby hats, Rogen added his own message: “Hope you are having a good time – Rogen.”

Reese would have turned 8 this month.

Before Amanda spoke, she took a deep breath and silenced her nerves. She walked onto the stage and called on Congress to pass the stillbirth legislation before it. She didn’t ask. She demanded.

“It’s time to empower pregnant people and their care providers with information that leads to prevention,” she insisted.

With the afternoon sun bearing down, Amanda and Rogen disappeared into the crowd of families marching toward the Capitol. Many carried signs. Some pushed empty strollers. Amanda was still wearing the orange-scented oil she had rubbed on her wrists that morning.

This story was originally published on ProPublica. ProPublica is a nonprofit newsroom that investigates abuses of power. Sign up to receive their biggest stories as soon as they’re published

U.K. researchers have established that hypertension is associated with a 22% greater risk of severe COVID-19, with the odds of severe COVID-19 unaffected by medication type.

Hypertension “appears to be one of the commonest comorbidities in COVID-19 patients”, explained the authors of a new study, published in PLOS ONE. The authors highlighted that previous research had shown that hypertension was more prevalent in severe and fatal cases compared with all cases of COVID-19.

They pointed out, however, that whether hypertensive individuals have a higher risk of severe COVID-19, compared with nonhypertensives, and whether the absolute level of systolic blood pressure or the type of antihypertensive medication is related to this risk, remained “unclear.”

To try to answer these questions, the research team, led by University of Cambridge researchers, analyzed data from 16,134 individuals who tested positive for COVID-19 (mean age 65.3 years, 47% male, 90% white), 40% were diagnosed with essential hypertension at the analysis baseline – 22% of whom had developed severe COVID-19.

Systolic blood pressure (SBP) was categorized by 10–mm Hg ranges, starting from < 120 mm Hg up to 180+ mm Hg, with the reference category defined as 120-129 mm Hg, based on data from the SPRINT study, which demonstrated that intensive SBP lowering to below 120 mm Hg, as compared with the traditional threshold of 140 mm Hg, was beneficial. Diastolic blood pressure was categorized by 10–mm Hg ranges, starting from < 60 mm Hg up to 100+ mm Hg with 80-90 mm Hg being the reference category.

In their analyses the researchers adjusted for age, sex, body mass index, ethnicity, smoking status, diabetes status, socioeconomic status, and inflammation (C-reactive protein [CRP]), as these were proposed as potential confounders. To assess the direct effect of hypertension on COVID-19, they also adjusted for intermediate variables, including cardiovascular comorbidities and stroke, on the causal pathway between hypertension and severe COVID-19.
 

Majority of effect of hypertension on severe COVID-19 was direct

The unadjusted odds ratio of the association between hypertension and severe COVID-19 was 2.33 (95% confidence interval, 2.16-2.51), the authors emphasized. They found that, after adjusting for all confounding variables, hypertension was associated with 22% higher odds of severe COVID-19 (OR, 1.22; 95% CI, 1.12-1.33), compared with normotension.

Individuals with severe COVID-19 were marginally older, more likely to be male, and more deprived, the authors said. “They were also more likely to be hypertensive, compared with individuals without severe COVID-19, and a greater proportion of individuals with severe COVID-19 had cardiovascular comorbidities.”

The majority of the effect of hypertension on development of severe COVID-19 was “direct,” they said. However, a modest proportion of the effect was mediated via cardiovascular comorbidities such as peripheral vascular disease, MI, coronary heart disease, arrhythmias, and stroke. Of note, those with a history of stroke had a 47% higher risk of severe COVID-19 and those with a history of other cardiovascular comorbidities had a 30% higher risk of severe COVID-19, the authors commented.
 

J-shaped relationship

Of the total of 6,517 (40%) individuals who had a diagnosis of essential hypertension at baseline, 67% were treated (41% with monotherapy, 59% with combination therapy), and 33% were untreated.

There were similar numbers of severe COVID-19 in each medication group: ACE inhibitors, 34%; angiotensin receptor blockers (ARBs), 36%; and “other” medications 34%.

In hypertensive individuals receiving antihypertensive medications, there was a “J-shaped relationship” between the level of blood pressure and risk of severe COVID-19 when using a systolic blood pressure level of 120-129 mm Hg as a reference – 150-159 mm Hg versus 120-129 mm Hg (OR 1.91; 95% CI, 1.44-2.53), > 180+ mm Hg versus 120-129 mm Hg (OR 1.93; 95% CI, 1.06-3.51).

The authors commented that there was no evidence of a higher risk of severe COVID-19 until systolic blood pressure “exceeded 150 mm Hg.”

They said it was an interesting finding that “very well-controlled” systolic blood pressure < 120 mm Hg was associated with a 40% (OR, 1.40; 95% CI, 1.11-1.78) greater odds of severe COVID-19. “This may be due to reverse causality, where low systolic blood pressure levels may indicate poorer health, such that the occurrence of severe COVID-19 may be related to underlying disease rather than the level of SBP per se,” they suggested.

The J-shaped association observed remained after multiple adjustments, including presence of known cardiovascular comorbidities, which suggested a possible “real effect” of low SBP on severe COVID-19, “at least in treated hypertensive individuals.”

Their analyses also identified that, compared with a “normal” diastolic blood pressure (80-90 mm Hg), having a diastolic blood pressure higher than 90 mm Hg was associated with higher odds of severe COVID-19.

The association between hypertension and COVID-19 was “amplified” if the individuals were treated and their BP remained uncontrolled, the authors pointed out.

There did not appear to be any difference in the risk of severe COVID-19 between individuals taking ACE inhibitors and those taking ARBs or other antihypertensive medications, the authors said.
 

Better understanding of underlying mechanisms needed

Individuals with hypertension who tested positive for COVID-19 had “over twice” the risk of developing severe COVID-19, compared with nonhypertensive individuals, the authors said.

They highlighted that their findings also suggest that there are “further effects” influencing the severity of COVID-19 beyond a “dichotomous” diagnosis of hypertension.

“Individuals with a higher-than-target systolic blood pressure may be less healthy, less active, suffering more severe hypertension, or have developed drug-resistant hypertension, all suggesting that the effects of hypertension have already had detrimental physiological effects on the cardiovascular system, which in turn may offer some explanation for the higher risk of severe COVID-19 with uncontrolled SBP,” they explained.

“Hypertension is an important risk factor for COVID-19,” reiterated the authors, who emphasized that a better understanding of the underlying mechanisms driving this increased risk is warranted in case of “more severe strains or other viruses” in the future.

The authors have declared no competing interests.

A version of this article first appeared on Medscape UK.

U.K. researchers have established that hypertension is associated with a 22% greater risk of severe COVID-19, with the odds of severe COVID-19 unaffected by medication type.

Hypertension “appears to be one of the commonest comorbidities in COVID-19 patients”, explained the authors of a new study, published in PLOS ONE. The authors highlighted that previous research had shown that hypertension was more prevalent in severe and fatal cases compared with all cases of COVID-19.

They pointed out, however, that whether hypertensive individuals have a higher risk of severe COVID-19, compared with nonhypertensives, and whether the absolute level of systolic blood pressure or the type of antihypertensive medication is related to this risk, remained “unclear.”

To try to answer these questions, the research team, led by University of Cambridge researchers, analyzed data from 16,134 individuals who tested positive for COVID-19 (mean age 65.3 years, 47% male, 90% white), 40% were diagnosed with essential hypertension at the analysis baseline – 22% of whom had developed severe COVID-19.

Systolic blood pressure (SBP) was categorized by 10–mm Hg ranges, starting from < 120 mm Hg up to 180+ mm Hg, with the reference category defined as 120-129 mm Hg, based on data from the SPRINT study, which demonstrated that intensive SBP lowering to below 120 mm Hg, as compared with the traditional threshold of 140 mm Hg, was beneficial. Diastolic blood pressure was categorized by 10–mm Hg ranges, starting from < 60 mm Hg up to 100+ mm Hg with 80-90 mm Hg being the reference category.

In their analyses the researchers adjusted for age, sex, body mass index, ethnicity, smoking status, diabetes status, socioeconomic status, and inflammation (C-reactive protein [CRP]), as these were proposed as potential confounders. To assess the direct effect of hypertension on COVID-19, they also adjusted for intermediate variables, including cardiovascular comorbidities and stroke, on the causal pathway between hypertension and severe COVID-19.
 

Majority of effect of hypertension on severe COVID-19 was direct

The unadjusted odds ratio of the association between hypertension and severe COVID-19 was 2.33 (95% confidence interval, 2.16-2.51), the authors emphasized. They found that, after adjusting for all confounding variables, hypertension was associated with 22% higher odds of severe COVID-19 (OR, 1.22; 95% CI, 1.12-1.33), compared with normotension.

Individuals with severe COVID-19 were marginally older, more likely to be male, and more deprived, the authors said. “They were also more likely to be hypertensive, compared with individuals without severe COVID-19, and a greater proportion of individuals with severe COVID-19 had cardiovascular comorbidities.”

The majority of the effect of hypertension on development of severe COVID-19 was “direct,” they said. However, a modest proportion of the effect was mediated via cardiovascular comorbidities such as peripheral vascular disease, MI, coronary heart disease, arrhythmias, and stroke. Of note, those with a history of stroke had a 47% higher risk of severe COVID-19 and those with a history of other cardiovascular comorbidities had a 30% higher risk of severe COVID-19, the authors commented.
 

J-shaped relationship

Of the total of 6,517 (40%) individuals who had a diagnosis of essential hypertension at baseline, 67% were treated (41% with monotherapy, 59% with combination therapy), and 33% were untreated.

There were similar numbers of severe COVID-19 in each medication group: ACE inhibitors, 34%; angiotensin receptor blockers (ARBs), 36%; and “other” medications 34%.

In hypertensive individuals receiving antihypertensive medications, there was a “J-shaped relationship” between the level of blood pressure and risk of severe COVID-19 when using a systolic blood pressure level of 120-129 mm Hg as a reference – 150-159 mm Hg versus 120-129 mm Hg (OR 1.91; 95% CI, 1.44-2.53), > 180+ mm Hg versus 120-129 mm Hg (OR 1.93; 95% CI, 1.06-3.51).

The authors commented that there was no evidence of a higher risk of severe COVID-19 until systolic blood pressure “exceeded 150 mm Hg.”

They said it was an interesting finding that “very well-controlled” systolic blood pressure < 120 mm Hg was associated with a 40% (OR, 1.40; 95% CI, 1.11-1.78) greater odds of severe COVID-19. “This may be due to reverse causality, where low systolic blood pressure levels may indicate poorer health, such that the occurrence of severe COVID-19 may be related to underlying disease rather than the level of SBP per se,” they suggested.

The J-shaped association observed remained after multiple adjustments, including presence of known cardiovascular comorbidities, which suggested a possible “real effect” of low SBP on severe COVID-19, “at least in treated hypertensive individuals.”

Their analyses also identified that, compared with a “normal” diastolic blood pressure (80-90 mm Hg), having a diastolic blood pressure higher than 90 mm Hg was associated with higher odds of severe COVID-19.

The association between hypertension and COVID-19 was “amplified” if the individuals were treated and their BP remained uncontrolled, the authors pointed out.

There did not appear to be any difference in the risk of severe COVID-19 between individuals taking ACE inhibitors and those taking ARBs or other antihypertensive medications, the authors said.
 

Better understanding of underlying mechanisms needed

Individuals with hypertension who tested positive for COVID-19 had “over twice” the risk of developing severe COVID-19, compared with nonhypertensive individuals, the authors said.

They highlighted that their findings also suggest that there are “further effects” influencing the severity of COVID-19 beyond a “dichotomous” diagnosis of hypertension.

“Individuals with a higher-than-target systolic blood pressure may be less healthy, less active, suffering more severe hypertension, or have developed drug-resistant hypertension, all suggesting that the effects of hypertension have already had detrimental physiological effects on the cardiovascular system, which in turn may offer some explanation for the higher risk of severe COVID-19 with uncontrolled SBP,” they explained.

“Hypertension is an important risk factor for COVID-19,” reiterated the authors, who emphasized that a better understanding of the underlying mechanisms driving this increased risk is warranted in case of “more severe strains or other viruses” in the future.

The authors have declared no competing interests.

A version of this article first appeared on Medscape UK.

U.K. researchers have established that hypertension is associated with a 22% greater risk of severe COVID-19, with the odds of severe COVID-19 unaffected by medication type.

Hypertension “appears to be one of the commonest comorbidities in COVID-19 patients”, explained the authors of a new study, published in PLOS ONE. The authors highlighted that previous research had shown that hypertension was more prevalent in severe and fatal cases compared with all cases of COVID-19.

They pointed out, however, that whether hypertensive individuals have a higher risk of severe COVID-19, compared with nonhypertensives, and whether the absolute level of systolic blood pressure or the type of antihypertensive medication is related to this risk, remained “unclear.”

To try to answer these questions, the research team, led by University of Cambridge researchers, analyzed data from 16,134 individuals who tested positive for COVID-19 (mean age 65.3 years, 47% male, 90% white), 40% were diagnosed with essential hypertension at the analysis baseline – 22% of whom had developed severe COVID-19.

Systolic blood pressure (SBP) was categorized by 10–mm Hg ranges, starting from < 120 mm Hg up to 180+ mm Hg, with the reference category defined as 120-129 mm Hg, based on data from the SPRINT study, which demonstrated that intensive SBP lowering to below 120 mm Hg, as compared with the traditional threshold of 140 mm Hg, was beneficial. Diastolic blood pressure was categorized by 10–mm Hg ranges, starting from < 60 mm Hg up to 100+ mm Hg with 80-90 mm Hg being the reference category.

In their analyses the researchers adjusted for age, sex, body mass index, ethnicity, smoking status, diabetes status, socioeconomic status, and inflammation (C-reactive protein [CRP]), as these were proposed as potential confounders. To assess the direct effect of hypertension on COVID-19, they also adjusted for intermediate variables, including cardiovascular comorbidities and stroke, on the causal pathway between hypertension and severe COVID-19.
 

Majority of effect of hypertension on severe COVID-19 was direct

The unadjusted odds ratio of the association between hypertension and severe COVID-19 was 2.33 (95% confidence interval, 2.16-2.51), the authors emphasized. They found that, after adjusting for all confounding variables, hypertension was associated with 22% higher odds of severe COVID-19 (OR, 1.22; 95% CI, 1.12-1.33), compared with normotension.

Individuals with severe COVID-19 were marginally older, more likely to be male, and more deprived, the authors said. “They were also more likely to be hypertensive, compared with individuals without severe COVID-19, and a greater proportion of individuals with severe COVID-19 had cardiovascular comorbidities.”

The majority of the effect of hypertension on development of severe COVID-19 was “direct,” they said. However, a modest proportion of the effect was mediated via cardiovascular comorbidities such as peripheral vascular disease, MI, coronary heart disease, arrhythmias, and stroke. Of note, those with a history of stroke had a 47% higher risk of severe COVID-19 and those with a history of other cardiovascular comorbidities had a 30% higher risk of severe COVID-19, the authors commented.
 

J-shaped relationship

Of the total of 6,517 (40%) individuals who had a diagnosis of essential hypertension at baseline, 67% were treated (41% with monotherapy, 59% with combination therapy), and 33% were untreated.

There were similar numbers of severe COVID-19 in each medication group: ACE inhibitors, 34%; angiotensin receptor blockers (ARBs), 36%; and “other” medications 34%.

In hypertensive individuals receiving antihypertensive medications, there was a “J-shaped relationship” between the level of blood pressure and risk of severe COVID-19 when using a systolic blood pressure level of 120-129 mm Hg as a reference – 150-159 mm Hg versus 120-129 mm Hg (OR 1.91; 95% CI, 1.44-2.53), > 180+ mm Hg versus 120-129 mm Hg (OR 1.93; 95% CI, 1.06-3.51).

The authors commented that there was no evidence of a higher risk of severe COVID-19 until systolic blood pressure “exceeded 150 mm Hg.”

They said it was an interesting finding that “very well-controlled” systolic blood pressure < 120 mm Hg was associated with a 40% (OR, 1.40; 95% CI, 1.11-1.78) greater odds of severe COVID-19. “This may be due to reverse causality, where low systolic blood pressure levels may indicate poorer health, such that the occurrence of severe COVID-19 may be related to underlying disease rather than the level of SBP per se,” they suggested.

The J-shaped association observed remained after multiple adjustments, including presence of known cardiovascular comorbidities, which suggested a possible “real effect” of low SBP on severe COVID-19, “at least in treated hypertensive individuals.”

Their analyses also identified that, compared with a “normal” diastolic blood pressure (80-90 mm Hg), having a diastolic blood pressure higher than 90 mm Hg was associated with higher odds of severe COVID-19.

The association between hypertension and COVID-19 was “amplified” if the individuals were treated and their BP remained uncontrolled, the authors pointed out.

There did not appear to be any difference in the risk of severe COVID-19 between individuals taking ACE inhibitors and those taking ARBs or other antihypertensive medications, the authors said.
 

Better understanding of underlying mechanisms needed

Individuals with hypertension who tested positive for COVID-19 had “over twice” the risk of developing severe COVID-19, compared with nonhypertensive individuals, the authors said.

They highlighted that their findings also suggest that there are “further effects” influencing the severity of COVID-19 beyond a “dichotomous” diagnosis of hypertension.

“Individuals with a higher-than-target systolic blood pressure may be less healthy, less active, suffering more severe hypertension, or have developed drug-resistant hypertension, all suggesting that the effects of hypertension have already had detrimental physiological effects on the cardiovascular system, which in turn may offer some explanation for the higher risk of severe COVID-19 with uncontrolled SBP,” they explained.

“Hypertension is an important risk factor for COVID-19,” reiterated the authors, who emphasized that a better understanding of the underlying mechanisms driving this increased risk is warranted in case of “more severe strains or other viruses” in the future.

The authors have declared no competing interests.

A version of this article first appeared on Medscape UK.

A new model for predicting breast cancer risk that is based on standard clinical measures could be used to develop personalized breast screening strategies that are more effective than the current “one size fits all” approach, say researchers.

“Several breast cancer risk prediction models have been created, but we believe this is one of the first models designed to guide breast screening strategies over a person’s lifetime using real data from a screening program,” said study author Javier Louro, PhD, Hospital del Mar Medical Research Institute, Barcelona, Spain.

“Our model might be considered a key for designing personalized screening aimed at reducing the harms and increasing the benefits of mammographic screening,” he said in a statement.

Someone with a low risk “might be offered screening with standard mammography every 3 or 4 years instead of 2 years,” Dr. Louro explained.

“Someone with medium risk might be offered screening with advanced 3D mammography every 3 years, while those at a high risk might be offered a new screening test with mammography or MRI every year.”

However, he cautioned that “all of these strategies are still theoretical and should be studied with regard to their effectiveness.”

Dr. Louro was talking about the new model at the 13th European Breast Cancer Conference.
 

Details of the new prediction model

To develop the new model, Louro and colleagues conducted a retrospective study of 57,411 women who underwent mammography in four counties in Norway between 2007 and 2019 as part of the BreastScreen Norway program, and followed them up to 2022.

The team gathered data on age, breast density, family history of breast cancer, body mass index, age at menarche, alcohol habit, exercise, pregnancy, hormone replacement therapy, and benign breast disease, and compared women with and those without a breast cancer diagnosis.

All of these 10 variables used were found to significantly explain part of the variability in the breast cancer risk.

Overall, the 4-year breast cancer risk predicted by the resulting model varied across the participants, from 0.22% to 7.43%, at a median of 1.10%.

Bootstrap resampling analysis revealed that the model overestimated the risk for breast cancer, at an expected-to-observed ratio of 1.10.

The largest effect on risk was from breast density on mammography. Women with dense breasts were at much higher risk: the adjusted hazard ratio was 1.71 for women with Volpara Density Grade 4 vs Grade 2 and was 1.37 when compared with Grade 3.

Exercise had a large impact on breast cancer risk, the researchers found. Women who exercised for 4 or more hours per week had an adjusted hazard ratio of 0.65 for breast cancer risk compared with women who never exercised. Although this effect of exercise reducing the risk for breast cancer is now widely known, it is not usually included in models that predict breast cancer risk, the team pointed out.

The team concluded that their prediction model could be used to personalize breast screening for women according to their risk assessment, although they acknowledge that more work is needed. This work is based on one screening program in one country, and similar studies in different settings are needed.

Reacting to the findings, Laura Biganzoli, MD, co-chair of the European Breast Cancer Conference and director of the Breast Centre at Santo Stefano Hospital, Prato, Italy, commented, “We know that breast screening programs are beneficial, but we also know that some people will experience potential harms caused by false-positives or overdiagnosis.”

“This research shows how we might be able to identify people with a high risk of breast cancer, but equally how we could identify those with a low risk. So it’s an important step toward personalized screening,” Dr. Biganzoli said.

This study was supported by a grant from Instituto de Salud Carlos III FEDER (grant PI/00047). No relevant financial relationships declared.

A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.

A new model for predicting breast cancer risk that is based on standard clinical measures could be used to develop personalized breast screening strategies that are more effective than the current “one size fits all” approach, say researchers.

“Several breast cancer risk prediction models have been created, but we believe this is one of the first models designed to guide breast screening strategies over a person’s lifetime using real data from a screening program,” said study author Javier Louro, PhD, Hospital del Mar Medical Research Institute, Barcelona, Spain.

“Our model might be considered a key for designing personalized screening aimed at reducing the harms and increasing the benefits of mammographic screening,” he said in a statement.

Someone with a low risk “might be offered screening with standard mammography every 3 or 4 years instead of 2 years,” Dr. Louro explained.

“Someone with medium risk might be offered screening with advanced 3D mammography every 3 years, while those at a high risk might be offered a new screening test with mammography or MRI every year.”

However, he cautioned that “all of these strategies are still theoretical and should be studied with regard to their effectiveness.”

Dr. Louro was talking about the new model at the 13th European Breast Cancer Conference.
 

Details of the new prediction model

To develop the new model, Louro and colleagues conducted a retrospective study of 57,411 women who underwent mammography in four counties in Norway between 2007 and 2019 as part of the BreastScreen Norway program, and followed them up to 2022.

The team gathered data on age, breast density, family history of breast cancer, body mass index, age at menarche, alcohol habit, exercise, pregnancy, hormone replacement therapy, and benign breast disease, and compared women with and those without a breast cancer diagnosis.

All of these 10 variables used were found to significantly explain part of the variability in the breast cancer risk.

Overall, the 4-year breast cancer risk predicted by the resulting model varied across the participants, from 0.22% to 7.43%, at a median of 1.10%.

Bootstrap resampling analysis revealed that the model overestimated the risk for breast cancer, at an expected-to-observed ratio of 1.10.

The largest effect on risk was from breast density on mammography. Women with dense breasts were at much higher risk: the adjusted hazard ratio was 1.71 for women with Volpara Density Grade 4 vs Grade 2 and was 1.37 when compared with Grade 3.

Exercise had a large impact on breast cancer risk, the researchers found. Women who exercised for 4 or more hours per week had an adjusted hazard ratio of 0.65 for breast cancer risk compared with women who never exercised. Although this effect of exercise reducing the risk for breast cancer is now widely known, it is not usually included in models that predict breast cancer risk, the team pointed out.

The team concluded that their prediction model could be used to personalize breast screening for women according to their risk assessment, although they acknowledge that more work is needed. This work is based on one screening program in one country, and similar studies in different settings are needed.

Reacting to the findings, Laura Biganzoli, MD, co-chair of the European Breast Cancer Conference and director of the Breast Centre at Santo Stefano Hospital, Prato, Italy, commented, “We know that breast screening programs are beneficial, but we also know that some people will experience potential harms caused by false-positives or overdiagnosis.”

“This research shows how we might be able to identify people with a high risk of breast cancer, but equally how we could identify those with a low risk. So it’s an important step toward personalized screening,” Dr. Biganzoli said.

This study was supported by a grant from Instituto de Salud Carlos III FEDER (grant PI/00047). No relevant financial relationships declared.

A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.

A new model for predicting breast cancer risk that is based on standard clinical measures could be used to develop personalized breast screening strategies that are more effective than the current “one size fits all” approach, say researchers.

“Several breast cancer risk prediction models have been created, but we believe this is one of the first models designed to guide breast screening strategies over a person’s lifetime using real data from a screening program,” said study author Javier Louro, PhD, Hospital del Mar Medical Research Institute, Barcelona, Spain.

“Our model might be considered a key for designing personalized screening aimed at reducing the harms and increasing the benefits of mammographic screening,” he said in a statement.

Someone with a low risk “might be offered screening with standard mammography every 3 or 4 years instead of 2 years,” Dr. Louro explained.

“Someone with medium risk might be offered screening with advanced 3D mammography every 3 years, while those at a high risk might be offered a new screening test with mammography or MRI every year.”

However, he cautioned that “all of these strategies are still theoretical and should be studied with regard to their effectiveness.”

Dr. Louro was talking about the new model at the 13th European Breast Cancer Conference.
 

Details of the new prediction model

To develop the new model, Louro and colleagues conducted a retrospective study of 57,411 women who underwent mammography in four counties in Norway between 2007 and 2019 as part of the BreastScreen Norway program, and followed them up to 2022.

The team gathered data on age, breast density, family history of breast cancer, body mass index, age at menarche, alcohol habit, exercise, pregnancy, hormone replacement therapy, and benign breast disease, and compared women with and those without a breast cancer diagnosis.

All of these 10 variables used were found to significantly explain part of the variability in the breast cancer risk.

Overall, the 4-year breast cancer risk predicted by the resulting model varied across the participants, from 0.22% to 7.43%, at a median of 1.10%.

Bootstrap resampling analysis revealed that the model overestimated the risk for breast cancer, at an expected-to-observed ratio of 1.10.

The largest effect on risk was from breast density on mammography. Women with dense breasts were at much higher risk: the adjusted hazard ratio was 1.71 for women with Volpara Density Grade 4 vs Grade 2 and was 1.37 when compared with Grade 3.

Exercise had a large impact on breast cancer risk, the researchers found. Women who exercised for 4 or more hours per week had an adjusted hazard ratio of 0.65 for breast cancer risk compared with women who never exercised. Although this effect of exercise reducing the risk for breast cancer is now widely known, it is not usually included in models that predict breast cancer risk, the team pointed out.

The team concluded that their prediction model could be used to personalize breast screening for women according to their risk assessment, although they acknowledge that more work is needed. This work is based on one screening program in one country, and similar studies in different settings are needed.

Reacting to the findings, Laura Biganzoli, MD, co-chair of the European Breast Cancer Conference and director of the Breast Centre at Santo Stefano Hospital, Prato, Italy, commented, “We know that breast screening programs are beneficial, but we also know that some people will experience potential harms caused by false-positives or overdiagnosis.”

“This research shows how we might be able to identify people with a high risk of breast cancer, but equally how we could identify those with a low risk. So it’s an important step toward personalized screening,” Dr. Biganzoli said.

This study was supported by a grant from Instituto de Salud Carlos III FEDER (grant PI/00047). No relevant financial relationships declared.

A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.

A woman who had breast cancer for 23 years, and who had gone through 12 different lines of therapy, has shown a dramatic response to a novel cancer vaccine in a clinical trial.

A recent 6-month follow-up showed no evidence of new or recurrent disease, and scans showed regression of a distant bulky left adrenal metastasis, as well as at other sites.

A small site of residual hypermetabolism remains in the sternum, but this is thought to be related to scar tissue.

The patient, Stephanie Gangi, told Medscape Medical News that, before she entered into the trial for the novel cancer vaccine, she was “mentally and physically exhausted.” She had benefited from being diagnosed with hormone-positive breast cancer just as its treatment was evolving and progressing, which meant that, every time a treatment failed, “there was the next thing to try, which was great and kept me going.”

“But I will admit that, by age 66, and more than 20 years of cancer treatments, I was exhausted.”

Ms. Gangi, a New York City-based poet, essayist, and fiction writer, said she was “cautiously optimistic” about the cancer vaccine, but the “overriding thought was I wanted to avoid chemotherapy.”

“I was not really signing on for great outcomes, I was signing on for something that might keep chemo at bay. The biggest impact so far for me has been that, for the first time in more than a decade, I am not on any medication. That’s really amazing…and that means no side effects,” she said.

Ms. Gangi stopped the vaccine treatment this past July, and just over 3 months later, she is still “wrapping her head around” the fact that her cancer has regressed. “I’ve had breast cancer a long time,” she said, “and you can’t just snap your fingers and be fine.”

Although the two scans that she has had since the trial ended have been “astonishing,” she underlined that this is not about a ‘cure,’ but rather “clearing tumors for the first time in many years.”

“Cancer is sneaky and sinister, and it figures out how to circumvent all kinds of treatments,” she said, adding nevertheless that she is “happy and hopeful, and my family is thrilled, of course.”

Ms. Gangi was classed as having had a partial response to the cancer vaccine, one of a few in a small phase 1/2 trial at the Icahn School of Medicine at Mount Sinai in New York. One other patient also had a partial response, and one patient had a complete response.

However, six patients have progressive disease, and one has stable disease.  

These results come from an interim analysis of 10 patients from the trial, and show a 30% response rate. They were presented at the recent annual meeting of the Society for Immunotherapy of Cancer.

The vaccine that was being tested combines local low-dose radiation, intramural Flt3L, which stimulates dendritic cells, and intravenous poly-ICLC, an immune stimulating factor, with the PD-1 inhibitor pembrolizumab (Keytruda).

The result is that, instead of making a vaccine in a laboratory and administering it, “we’re actually formulating it within the body,” lead author Thomas Marron, MD, PhD, professor of medicine (hematology and medical oncology) at Mount Sinai, said in an interview.

“What people don’t realize,” he said, is that bulky tumor sites contain “a lot of dead tumor, because they grow so fast and in a haphazard way.” This means that the immune system can be recruited to recognize the dead tumor and “gobble up the dead stuff that’s already there,” he added.

The hope is that the immune system will then kill not only “the tumor you are injecting into, but also tumors elsewhere in the body,” Dr. Marron said. “So you’re basically using your body’s own immune system and on and off switches to vaccinate the patient against their cancer.”

Another patient in the trial who had a complete response to the vaccine was William Morrison, with non-Hodgkin lymphoma (NHL).

Mr. Morrison was diagnosed in 2017, at which time he was enrolled onto a phase 1 trial of an earlier version of this novel vaccine treatment regimen. “Basically, they didn’t get the results they were hoping for, and I still had the lymphoma,” he said. In 2018, his indolent follicular lymphoma transformed into an aggressive diffuse large B-cell lymphoma, for which Mr. Morrison was given six cycles of chemotherapy. This put him into remission and cleared his lymphoma.

“But the remission lasted for maybe a little over a year,” he said.

The cancer came back, and at that point he was given the opportunity to enroll in the Mount Sinai trial. At the end of the treatment, “everything was clear.”

“I’ve been for PET scans every 6 months, and I just had a scan done the other week, and everything has been fine…I’ve been pretty excited. I was pretty lucky.”

“This recent one really has worked wonders,” he said, “When they gave me the good news the other day. I felt like a big weight had been lifted.”

Mr. Morrison also said that he did not experience any serious adverse events while being treated with the vaccine. “Other than a few minor things, I tolerated it pretty well,” he said.

In contrast, Ms. Gangi said she experienced “intense” flu-like symptoms that started in the first few days after the treatment and lasted for a couple of days.
 

Need to improve response rate

The current trial achieved responses in 30% of patients, which “is great, [but] we want to be at 100%,” said Dr. Marron.

“What we’re doing in the laboratory right now is using this as an opportunity to study what it is that’s special about those three people who responded and what’s not happening in the other seven people, and we have some initial data that we’re analyzing,” he said.

“We are seeing that the patients who responded have a much more robust response to the Ft3L in particular…and that could suggest that maybe we need a better Ft3L, or we could think about other ways to potentially manipulate this vaccine.

“Most of the patients who are referred to me are people who have run out of options…and that usually means they’ve had many different types of chemotherapy,” Dr. Marron commented. For example, Ms. Gangi had already been through 12 different chemotherapy regimens.

Chemotherapy suppresses the immune system, but it’s not only that — also having an effect are all the other treatments aimed at reducing nausea and allergic reactions to the anti-cancer therapy, Dr. Marron explained.

“By the time that I see a patient,” Dr. Marron said, “oftentimes their immune system is not optimal. So another way in which we would hope to see better responses is by moving this vaccine earlier in the treatment paradigm, and administering it to patients as their first or second treatment.”

Senior author Joshua Brody, MD, director of the Lymphoma Immunotherapy Program at Mount Sinai’s Tisch Cancer Institute, added that it “might be easy” to incorporate the vaccine into earlier lines of therapy.

He said in an interview that both immunotherapy and radiation therapy are “standard” treatments, and the key is “adding multiple ingredients together that don’t have cumulative toxicity.”

“You can’t just chemo one plus chemo two, because they have some of the same toxicities, but the delightful thing here is this therapy had been quite safe.

“So in theory it would be fairly easy to incorporate this into earlier lines of therapy, once we can get a bit more proof of principle,” Dr. Brody said.

Approached for comment, Ann W. Silk, MD, said that the results are “particularly impressive because we know anti-PD-1 plus radiation therapy does not work in hormone-positive breast cancer or lymphoma.”

Dr. Silk, an oncologist at the Dana-Farber Cancer Institute and assistant professor of medicine at Harvard Medical School in Boston, said in an interview that one advantage of this vaccine is that it “is not restricted to a certain number of antigens and does not rely on an algorithm.”

“I would love to see more data in hormone-positive metastatic breast cancer patients,” she added. “I would use this approach after the hormonal treatments stop working, but before chemotherapy.”

Dr. Silk also said that the safety profile “looks quite good, and I imagine this approach would result in a much better quality of life for patients as compared to chemotherapy.”
 

Details of the trial and results

The Mount Sinai researchers had previously developed a personalized genomic cancer vaccine, PGV-001, which showed promise in a phase 1 trial in 13 patients with solid tumors or multiple myeloma and a high risk of recurrence after surgery or autologous stem cell transplant.

Next, they worked to develop the concept further to turn the tumor into its own vaccine, which involved inducing anti-tumor responses in indolent NHL, which typically responds poorly to checkpoint blockade, by combining Ft3L, low-dose irradiation, and poly-ICLC.

The next phase 1 trial showed that this approach was feasible, but preclinical modeling suggested that the addition of PD-1 blockade could improve the cure rates. The researchers therefore conducted the current trial, recruiting 10 patients with indolent NHL, metastatic breast cancer, or head and neck squamous cell carcinoma (HNSCC).

Patients were given local radiation therapy on days 1 and 2, and intramural Ft3L to the same tumor on day 9, followed by eight intravenous injections of poly-ICLC over 6 weeks. On day 23, they received their first of eight doses of pembrolizumab.

Dr. Marron explained that the radiotherapy increases the amount of dead material for the immune system to work on by “killing some of the tumor cells,” adding: “We’re not trying to kill the whole tumor with the radiation…it just starts the process of releasing some more of that dead stuff.”

He explained that Ft3L is a human growth factor that simulates dendritic cells, “which I always say are the professor cells of the immune system,” as they tell the body “what’s good and what’s bad.”

The poly-ICLC is “basically like a fake virus,” Dr. Marron said, as it “turns on those immune cells that have taken up the tumor antigen in the neighborhood” of the tumor, so they “teach the immune system that there is something bad”.

Finally, the pembrolizumab is there to “take the foot off the brake of the immune system” and “grease the wheels a bit more,” he added, even though it does not work in all patients, or in all tumor types, including indolent NHL.

The trial was planned in two phases. In the first part, six patients were enrolled to assess the safety of the approach; the phase 2 stage of the trial followed a Simon’s Two-Stage design, with the aim of recruiting seven patients of each tumor type, followed by a further 12 patients if they showed a response.

The current interim analysis that was presented at the SITC meeting focused on the first 10 patients in the phase 2 part, who were enrolled between April 2019 and July 2022. This included six patients with metastatic breast cancer, three with indolent NHL, and one with HNSCC, all of whom completed their first disease response assessment.

All patients experienced treatment-related adverse events, largely comprising low-grade injection site reactions and flu-like symptoms linked to the poly-ICLC injections.

One patient experienced grade 3 pembrolizumab-related colitis, while another had self-resolving grade 3 fever following poly-ICLC injection.

The study was sponsored by Icahn School of Medicine at Mount Sinai and conducted in collaboration with Merck Sharp & Dohme LLC and Celldex Therapeutics. No relevant financial relationships were reported.

A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.

A woman who had breast cancer for 23 years, and who had gone through 12 different lines of therapy, has shown a dramatic response to a novel cancer vaccine in a clinical trial.

A recent 6-month follow-up showed no evidence of new or recurrent disease, and scans showed regression of a distant bulky left adrenal metastasis, as well as at other sites.

A small site of residual hypermetabolism remains in the sternum, but this is thought to be related to scar tissue.

The patient, Stephanie Gangi, told Medscape Medical News that, before she entered into the trial for the novel cancer vaccine, she was “mentally and physically exhausted.” She had benefited from being diagnosed with hormone-positive breast cancer just as its treatment was evolving and progressing, which meant that, every time a treatment failed, “there was the next thing to try, which was great and kept me going.”

“But I will admit that, by age 66, and more than 20 years of cancer treatments, I was exhausted.”

Ms. Gangi, a New York City-based poet, essayist, and fiction writer, said she was “cautiously optimistic” about the cancer vaccine, but the “overriding thought was I wanted to avoid chemotherapy.”

“I was not really signing on for great outcomes, I was signing on for something that might keep chemo at bay. The biggest impact so far for me has been that, for the first time in more than a decade, I am not on any medication. That’s really amazing…and that means no side effects,” she said.

Ms. Gangi stopped the vaccine treatment this past July, and just over 3 months later, she is still “wrapping her head around” the fact that her cancer has regressed. “I’ve had breast cancer a long time,” she said, “and you can’t just snap your fingers and be fine.”

Although the two scans that she has had since the trial ended have been “astonishing,” she underlined that this is not about a ‘cure,’ but rather “clearing tumors for the first time in many years.”

“Cancer is sneaky and sinister, and it figures out how to circumvent all kinds of treatments,” she said, adding nevertheless that she is “happy and hopeful, and my family is thrilled, of course.”

Ms. Gangi was classed as having had a partial response to the cancer vaccine, one of a few in a small phase 1/2 trial at the Icahn School of Medicine at Mount Sinai in New York. One other patient also had a partial response, and one patient had a complete response.

However, six patients have progressive disease, and one has stable disease.  

These results come from an interim analysis of 10 patients from the trial, and show a 30% response rate. They were presented at the recent annual meeting of the Society for Immunotherapy of Cancer.

The vaccine that was being tested combines local low-dose radiation, intramural Flt3L, which stimulates dendritic cells, and intravenous poly-ICLC, an immune stimulating factor, with the PD-1 inhibitor pembrolizumab (Keytruda).

The result is that, instead of making a vaccine in a laboratory and administering it, “we’re actually formulating it within the body,” lead author Thomas Marron, MD, PhD, professor of medicine (hematology and medical oncology) at Mount Sinai, said in an interview.

“What people don’t realize,” he said, is that bulky tumor sites contain “a lot of dead tumor, because they grow so fast and in a haphazard way.” This means that the immune system can be recruited to recognize the dead tumor and “gobble up the dead stuff that’s already there,” he added.

The hope is that the immune system will then kill not only “the tumor you are injecting into, but also tumors elsewhere in the body,” Dr. Marron said. “So you’re basically using your body’s own immune system and on and off switches to vaccinate the patient against their cancer.”

Another patient in the trial who had a complete response to the vaccine was William Morrison, with non-Hodgkin lymphoma (NHL).

Mr. Morrison was diagnosed in 2017, at which time he was enrolled onto a phase 1 trial of an earlier version of this novel vaccine treatment regimen. “Basically, they didn’t get the results they were hoping for, and I still had the lymphoma,” he said. In 2018, his indolent follicular lymphoma transformed into an aggressive diffuse large B-cell lymphoma, for which Mr. Morrison was given six cycles of chemotherapy. This put him into remission and cleared his lymphoma.

“But the remission lasted for maybe a little over a year,” he said.

The cancer came back, and at that point he was given the opportunity to enroll in the Mount Sinai trial. At the end of the treatment, “everything was clear.”

“I’ve been for PET scans every 6 months, and I just had a scan done the other week, and everything has been fine…I’ve been pretty excited. I was pretty lucky.”

“This recent one really has worked wonders,” he said, “When they gave me the good news the other day. I felt like a big weight had been lifted.”

Mr. Morrison also said that he did not experience any serious adverse events while being treated with the vaccine. “Other than a few minor things, I tolerated it pretty well,” he said.

In contrast, Ms. Gangi said she experienced “intense” flu-like symptoms that started in the first few days after the treatment and lasted for a couple of days.
 

Need to improve response rate

The current trial achieved responses in 30% of patients, which “is great, [but] we want to be at 100%,” said Dr. Marron.

“What we’re doing in the laboratory right now is using this as an opportunity to study what it is that’s special about those three people who responded and what’s not happening in the other seven people, and we have some initial data that we’re analyzing,” he said.

“We are seeing that the patients who responded have a much more robust response to the Ft3L in particular…and that could suggest that maybe we need a better Ft3L, or we could think about other ways to potentially manipulate this vaccine.

“Most of the patients who are referred to me are people who have run out of options…and that usually means they’ve had many different types of chemotherapy,” Dr. Marron commented. For example, Ms. Gangi had already been through 12 different chemotherapy regimens.

Chemotherapy suppresses the immune system, but it’s not only that — also having an effect are all the other treatments aimed at reducing nausea and allergic reactions to the anti-cancer therapy, Dr. Marron explained.

“By the time that I see a patient,” Dr. Marron said, “oftentimes their immune system is not optimal. So another way in which we would hope to see better responses is by moving this vaccine earlier in the treatment paradigm, and administering it to patients as their first or second treatment.”

Senior author Joshua Brody, MD, director of the Lymphoma Immunotherapy Program at Mount Sinai’s Tisch Cancer Institute, added that it “might be easy” to incorporate the vaccine into earlier lines of therapy.

He said in an interview that both immunotherapy and radiation therapy are “standard” treatments, and the key is “adding multiple ingredients together that don’t have cumulative toxicity.”

“You can’t just chemo one plus chemo two, because they have some of the same toxicities, but the delightful thing here is this therapy had been quite safe.

“So in theory it would be fairly easy to incorporate this into earlier lines of therapy, once we can get a bit more proof of principle,” Dr. Brody said.

Approached for comment, Ann W. Silk, MD, said that the results are “particularly impressive because we know anti-PD-1 plus radiation therapy does not work in hormone-positive breast cancer or lymphoma.”

Dr. Silk, an oncologist at the Dana-Farber Cancer Institute and assistant professor of medicine at Harvard Medical School in Boston, said in an interview that one advantage of this vaccine is that it “is not restricted to a certain number of antigens and does not rely on an algorithm.”

“I would love to see more data in hormone-positive metastatic breast cancer patients,” she added. “I would use this approach after the hormonal treatments stop working, but before chemotherapy.”

Dr. Silk also said that the safety profile “looks quite good, and I imagine this approach would result in a much better quality of life for patients as compared to chemotherapy.”
 

Details of the trial and results

The Mount Sinai researchers had previously developed a personalized genomic cancer vaccine, PGV-001, which showed promise in a phase 1 trial in 13 patients with solid tumors or multiple myeloma and a high risk of recurrence after surgery or autologous stem cell transplant.

Next, they worked to develop the concept further to turn the tumor into its own vaccine, which involved inducing anti-tumor responses in indolent NHL, which typically responds poorly to checkpoint blockade, by combining Ft3L, low-dose irradiation, and poly-ICLC.

The next phase 1 trial showed that this approach was feasible, but preclinical modeling suggested that the addition of PD-1 blockade could improve the cure rates. The researchers therefore conducted the current trial, recruiting 10 patients with indolent NHL, metastatic breast cancer, or head and neck squamous cell carcinoma (HNSCC).

Patients were given local radiation therapy on days 1 and 2, and intramural Ft3L to the same tumor on day 9, followed by eight intravenous injections of poly-ICLC over 6 weeks. On day 23, they received their first of eight doses of pembrolizumab.

Dr. Marron explained that the radiotherapy increases the amount of dead material for the immune system to work on by “killing some of the tumor cells,” adding: “We’re not trying to kill the whole tumor with the radiation…it just starts the process of releasing some more of that dead stuff.”

He explained that Ft3L is a human growth factor that simulates dendritic cells, “which I always say are the professor cells of the immune system,” as they tell the body “what’s good and what’s bad.”

The poly-ICLC is “basically like a fake virus,” Dr. Marron said, as it “turns on those immune cells that have taken up the tumor antigen in the neighborhood” of the tumor, so they “teach the immune system that there is something bad”.

Finally, the pembrolizumab is there to “take the foot off the brake of the immune system” and “grease the wheels a bit more,” he added, even though it does not work in all patients, or in all tumor types, including indolent NHL.

The trial was planned in two phases. In the first part, six patients were enrolled to assess the safety of the approach; the phase 2 stage of the trial followed a Simon’s Two-Stage design, with the aim of recruiting seven patients of each tumor type, followed by a further 12 patients if they showed a response.

The current interim analysis that was presented at the SITC meeting focused on the first 10 patients in the phase 2 part, who were enrolled between April 2019 and July 2022. This included six patients with metastatic breast cancer, three with indolent NHL, and one with HNSCC, all of whom completed their first disease response assessment.

All patients experienced treatment-related adverse events, largely comprising low-grade injection site reactions and flu-like symptoms linked to the poly-ICLC injections.

One patient experienced grade 3 pembrolizumab-related colitis, while another had self-resolving grade 3 fever following poly-ICLC injection.

The study was sponsored by Icahn School of Medicine at Mount Sinai and conducted in collaboration with Merck Sharp & Dohme LLC and Celldex Therapeutics. No relevant financial relationships were reported.

A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.

A woman who had breast cancer for 23 years, and who had gone through 12 different lines of therapy, has shown a dramatic response to a novel cancer vaccine in a clinical trial.

A recent 6-month follow-up showed no evidence of new or recurrent disease, and scans showed regression of a distant bulky left adrenal metastasis, as well as at other sites.

A small site of residual hypermetabolism remains in the sternum, but this is thought to be related to scar tissue.

The patient, Stephanie Gangi, told Medscape Medical News that, before she entered into the trial for the novel cancer vaccine, she was “mentally and physically exhausted.” She had benefited from being diagnosed with hormone-positive breast cancer just as its treatment was evolving and progressing, which meant that, every time a treatment failed, “there was the next thing to try, which was great and kept me going.”

“But I will admit that, by age 66, and more than 20 years of cancer treatments, I was exhausted.”

Ms. Gangi, a New York City-based poet, essayist, and fiction writer, said she was “cautiously optimistic” about the cancer vaccine, but the “overriding thought was I wanted to avoid chemotherapy.”

“I was not really signing on for great outcomes, I was signing on for something that might keep chemo at bay. The biggest impact so far for me has been that, for the first time in more than a decade, I am not on any medication. That’s really amazing…and that means no side effects,” she said.

Ms. Gangi stopped the vaccine treatment this past July, and just over 3 months later, she is still “wrapping her head around” the fact that her cancer has regressed. “I’ve had breast cancer a long time,” she said, “and you can’t just snap your fingers and be fine.”

Although the two scans that she has had since the trial ended have been “astonishing,” she underlined that this is not about a ‘cure,’ but rather “clearing tumors for the first time in many years.”

“Cancer is sneaky and sinister, and it figures out how to circumvent all kinds of treatments,” she said, adding nevertheless that she is “happy and hopeful, and my family is thrilled, of course.”

Ms. Gangi was classed as having had a partial response to the cancer vaccine, one of a few in a small phase 1/2 trial at the Icahn School of Medicine at Mount Sinai in New York. One other patient also had a partial response, and one patient had a complete response.

However, six patients have progressive disease, and one has stable disease.  

These results come from an interim analysis of 10 patients from the trial, and show a 30% response rate. They were presented at the recent annual meeting of the Society for Immunotherapy of Cancer.

The vaccine that was being tested combines local low-dose radiation, intramural Flt3L, which stimulates dendritic cells, and intravenous poly-ICLC, an immune stimulating factor, with the PD-1 inhibitor pembrolizumab (Keytruda).

The result is that, instead of making a vaccine in a laboratory and administering it, “we’re actually formulating it within the body,” lead author Thomas Marron, MD, PhD, professor of medicine (hematology and medical oncology) at Mount Sinai, said in an interview.

“What people don’t realize,” he said, is that bulky tumor sites contain “a lot of dead tumor, because they grow so fast and in a haphazard way.” This means that the immune system can be recruited to recognize the dead tumor and “gobble up the dead stuff that’s already there,” he added.

The hope is that the immune system will then kill not only “the tumor you are injecting into, but also tumors elsewhere in the body,” Dr. Marron said. “So you’re basically using your body’s own immune system and on and off switches to vaccinate the patient against their cancer.”

Another patient in the trial who had a complete response to the vaccine was William Morrison, with non-Hodgkin lymphoma (NHL).

Mr. Morrison was diagnosed in 2017, at which time he was enrolled onto a phase 1 trial of an earlier version of this novel vaccine treatment regimen. “Basically, they didn’t get the results they were hoping for, and I still had the lymphoma,” he said. In 2018, his indolent follicular lymphoma transformed into an aggressive diffuse large B-cell lymphoma, for which Mr. Morrison was given six cycles of chemotherapy. This put him into remission and cleared his lymphoma.

“But the remission lasted for maybe a little over a year,” he said.

The cancer came back, and at that point he was given the opportunity to enroll in the Mount Sinai trial. At the end of the treatment, “everything was clear.”

“I’ve been for PET scans every 6 months, and I just had a scan done the other week, and everything has been fine…I’ve been pretty excited. I was pretty lucky.”

“This recent one really has worked wonders,” he said, “When they gave me the good news the other day. I felt like a big weight had been lifted.”

Mr. Morrison also said that he did not experience any serious adverse events while being treated with the vaccine. “Other than a few minor things, I tolerated it pretty well,” he said.

In contrast, Ms. Gangi said she experienced “intense” flu-like symptoms that started in the first few days after the treatment and lasted for a couple of days.
 

Need to improve response rate

The current trial achieved responses in 30% of patients, which “is great, [but] we want to be at 100%,” said Dr. Marron.

“What we’re doing in the laboratory right now is using this as an opportunity to study what it is that’s special about those three people who responded and what’s not happening in the other seven people, and we have some initial data that we’re analyzing,” he said.

“We are seeing that the patients who responded have a much more robust response to the Ft3L in particular…and that could suggest that maybe we need a better Ft3L, or we could think about other ways to potentially manipulate this vaccine.

“Most of the patients who are referred to me are people who have run out of options…and that usually means they’ve had many different types of chemotherapy,” Dr. Marron commented. For example, Ms. Gangi had already been through 12 different chemotherapy regimens.

Chemotherapy suppresses the immune system, but it’s not only that — also having an effect are all the other treatments aimed at reducing nausea and allergic reactions to the anti-cancer therapy, Dr. Marron explained.

“By the time that I see a patient,” Dr. Marron said, “oftentimes their immune system is not optimal. So another way in which we would hope to see better responses is by moving this vaccine earlier in the treatment paradigm, and administering it to patients as their first or second treatment.”

Senior author Joshua Brody, MD, director of the Lymphoma Immunotherapy Program at Mount Sinai’s Tisch Cancer Institute, added that it “might be easy” to incorporate the vaccine into earlier lines of therapy.

He said in an interview that both immunotherapy and radiation therapy are “standard” treatments, and the key is “adding multiple ingredients together that don’t have cumulative toxicity.”

“You can’t just chemo one plus chemo two, because they have some of the same toxicities, but the delightful thing here is this therapy had been quite safe.

“So in theory it would be fairly easy to incorporate this into earlier lines of therapy, once we can get a bit more proof of principle,” Dr. Brody said.

Approached for comment, Ann W. Silk, MD, said that the results are “particularly impressive because we know anti-PD-1 plus radiation therapy does not work in hormone-positive breast cancer or lymphoma.”

Dr. Silk, an oncologist at the Dana-Farber Cancer Institute and assistant professor of medicine at Harvard Medical School in Boston, said in an interview that one advantage of this vaccine is that it “is not restricted to a certain number of antigens and does not rely on an algorithm.”

“I would love to see more data in hormone-positive metastatic breast cancer patients,” she added. “I would use this approach after the hormonal treatments stop working, but before chemotherapy.”

Dr. Silk also said that the safety profile “looks quite good, and I imagine this approach would result in a much better quality of life for patients as compared to chemotherapy.”
 

Details of the trial and results

The Mount Sinai researchers had previously developed a personalized genomic cancer vaccine, PGV-001, which showed promise in a phase 1 trial in 13 patients with solid tumors or multiple myeloma and a high risk of recurrence after surgery or autologous stem cell transplant.

Next, they worked to develop the concept further to turn the tumor into its own vaccine, which involved inducing anti-tumor responses in indolent NHL, which typically responds poorly to checkpoint blockade, by combining Ft3L, low-dose irradiation, and poly-ICLC.

The next phase 1 trial showed that this approach was feasible, but preclinical modeling suggested that the addition of PD-1 blockade could improve the cure rates. The researchers therefore conducted the current trial, recruiting 10 patients with indolent NHL, metastatic breast cancer, or head and neck squamous cell carcinoma (HNSCC).

Patients were given local radiation therapy on days 1 and 2, and intramural Ft3L to the same tumor on day 9, followed by eight intravenous injections of poly-ICLC over 6 weeks. On day 23, they received their first of eight doses of pembrolizumab.

Dr. Marron explained that the radiotherapy increases the amount of dead material for the immune system to work on by “killing some of the tumor cells,” adding: “We’re not trying to kill the whole tumor with the radiation…it just starts the process of releasing some more of that dead stuff.”

He explained that Ft3L is a human growth factor that simulates dendritic cells, “which I always say are the professor cells of the immune system,” as they tell the body “what’s good and what’s bad.”

The poly-ICLC is “basically like a fake virus,” Dr. Marron said, as it “turns on those immune cells that have taken up the tumor antigen in the neighborhood” of the tumor, so they “teach the immune system that there is something bad”.

Finally, the pembrolizumab is there to “take the foot off the brake of the immune system” and “grease the wheels a bit more,” he added, even though it does not work in all patients, or in all tumor types, including indolent NHL.

The trial was planned in two phases. In the first part, six patients were enrolled to assess the safety of the approach; the phase 2 stage of the trial followed a Simon’s Two-Stage design, with the aim of recruiting seven patients of each tumor type, followed by a further 12 patients if they showed a response.

The current interim analysis that was presented at the SITC meeting focused on the first 10 patients in the phase 2 part, who were enrolled between April 2019 and July 2022. This included six patients with metastatic breast cancer, three with indolent NHL, and one with HNSCC, all of whom completed their first disease response assessment.

All patients experienced treatment-related adverse events, largely comprising low-grade injection site reactions and flu-like symptoms linked to the poly-ICLC injections.

One patient experienced grade 3 pembrolizumab-related colitis, while another had self-resolving grade 3 fever following poly-ICLC injection.

The study was sponsored by Icahn School of Medicine at Mount Sinai and conducted in collaboration with Merck Sharp & Dohme LLC and Celldex Therapeutics. No relevant financial relationships were reported.

A version of this article first appeared on Medscape.com.

Five pounds of weight gain during the holidays is a disproven myth that pops up annually like holiday lights. But before you do a happy dance and pile that extra whipped cream on your pie, you should know two things. One, people do gain weight during the holidays. Two, the extra pounds tend to stick around because most people never lose their holiday weight. Over time, these extra pounds can lead to obesity and weight-related conditions such as diabetes and hypertension.

Let’s be clear. Your weight is one of many markers of your wellness and metabolic health. However, weight changes can indicate that your health is off balance. Holiday weight gain often comes from indulging in increased rich foods, less physical activity, higher stress levels, and sleep disruption.

Courtesy Jason Weil Photography

Optimizing lifestyle factors and trying to lose weight is challenging any time of the year. However, the holiday bustle makes losing weight during this time even more challenging for most people. But maintaining your weight and overall wellness is manageable with three simple shifts in mindset, mindful eating, and meal strategy. Let’s discuss each.
 

Mindset 

From personal and professional experience, I see two primary attitudes regarding holiday eating. They are either “I’ll wait till January to go on a diet” or “I’m on a diet, so I can’t eat anything I like during the holidays.” Both attitude extremes prevent enjoyable and healthy eating during the holidays because they place the focus on food. With both mindsets, food is in control, which leaves you feeling out of control. Rather than having an “all or none” mindset during the holidays, I encourage you to ask yourself:

• “What matters most to me during the holidays?” In a recent survey, 72% of Americans said they look forward to  during the holidays. Although food often accompanies family celebrations, it’s the time with family that matters most. Choose to savor sweet time spent with loved ones instead of stuffing yourself with excess sugary sweets.
• “How can I enjoy myself without food or alcoholic beverages?” So often, we eat or drink certain foods out of habit. Shift your mindset from “we always do this” to “what could we do instead?” Asking this question may be the doorway to creating new, non–food-centered traditions.
• “How can I have the foods I love during the holidays and still meet my weight and wellness goals?” This question helps you create opportunities instead of depriving yourself. Rather than depriving yourself, you could cut back on snacking or reduce your sugar intake elsewhere. Or add an extra workout session or stress reduction practice during the holidays.