Credit: Peter Ronner

SISTER ACT Margaret Marsh's expertise as a cultural historian and Wanda Ronner's in women's health make for a natural literary partnership. The sisters (Marsh, right), both Rutgers–Camden graduates, are already at work on a third book. The book projects, Ronner says, "seem like an extension" of the sisters' close relationship and the many mutual interests that spring from it.

It is difficult to overstate the influence of John Rock, the Harvard-affiliated gynecologist and pioneering researcher, in shaping the field of modern reproductive medicine.

Rock was the first researcher to fertilize a human egg in vitro in the 1940s and the co-developer of the first oral contraceptive a decade later. His groundbreaking studies of the human embryo, tracing the path from ovulation to implantation in the uterus, provided the first visual record of the earliest stages of pregnancy.

A new book by Margaret Marsh, a distinguished professor of history and interim chancellor at Rutgers–Camden, and her sister, Wanda Ronner, a clinical associate professor of obstetrics and gynecology at the University of Pennsylvania School of Medicine, closely examines Rock's five-decade career, which defined the reproductive revolution, with its twin symbols of the birth control pill and technologically assisted reproduction.

Their collaboration, The Fertility Doctor: John Rock and the Reproductive Revolution (Johns Hopkins University Press, October 2008), is the first full-scale historical biography of Rock, who began his working life as a time-keeper on a banana plantation in Guatemala, later became the nation's leading figure in the treatment of infertility, and ended his career as perhaps the world’s most recognized advocate for the birth control pill.

“He was the leading clinician in the field of reproductive medicine before the field even had a name," Marsh said. “We were fascinated by him. We thought he deserved a serious biography.’’

Marsh and Ronner were the first scholars to examine Rock’s personal family papers, which included diaries, patient records, and correspondence with men and women from all walks of life around the nation and throughout the world. Rock’s daughter, Rachel Achenbach, granted them unrestricted access to these documents.

“What I found so interesting about him was his willingness to try to find answers to medical questions that at the time, were so out of his reach,’’ Ronner said. “He was doing experiments in his office. And he would do things like inject himself with the solvents that drug companies were using for treatments such as injectable progesterone, and report back on whether he’d had a reaction.’’

As director of the Harvard-affiliated Fertility and Endocrine Clinic at the Free Hospital for Women in Boston, Rock treated women from all walks of life, from film stars and at least one African princess, to the wives of elevator operators and laborers. He stands out, the authors say, for his ability to communicate with patients.

“He was absolutely in partnership with his patients. He always discussed their conditions and treatment options with them, and he trusted their intelligence and decision-making ability,’’ Marsh said. “He was ahead of his time in seeking informed consent.’’

Some of Rock's research ignited controversy in the 1970s and 1980s, when Christian conservatives insisted that his earlier embryo experiments were unethical and some feminists argued that he had misled the patients who participated in them.

The Rock biography grew out of their first co-authored book, The Empty Cradle: Infertility in America from Colonial Times to the Present (Johns Hopkins, 1996), which began a collaboration that has now lasted for nearly two decades.

“This all started when Wanda finished her residency and we wanted to do a project together, but didn’t know what it would be. My expertise is in the history of the family and women, Wanda's in women's health. By studying issues of reproduction, we were able to combine the two,’’ Marsh recounted.

“My sister has the medical knowledge, which is absolutely critical. There is no way as a cultural historian that I could have done this by myself,’’ she added. “Collaborating makes our books so much richer.’’

Ronner said their book projects in some ways “seem like an extension’’ of their close relationship since girlhood and the many mutual interests that spring from it.

Both Marsh and Ronner earned their bachelor’s degrees at Rutgers–Camden. While she was an undergraduate majoring in English literature, Ronner said she would call her older sister for advice on what courses to take. After embarking on a medical career, Ronner “sneaked her in” to see a delivery and invited Marsh to speak to her medical school students. Together, they give papers and attend academic conferences.

Look for this scholarly “sister act” to continue: The authors are planning a third book, which will explore the ways in which the field of reproductive medicine has emerged as something of a global business.