Embryo Donation - A Gift of Hope

After welcoming our son through egg donation and surrogacy almost three years ago, it finally feels like the right time to share our decision about the one remaining viable embryo created through IVF. With IVF becoming more and more common, it’s estimated that there are currently 1.5 million embryos in cryostorage in the US, and that around half of all embryos created through IVF are never transferred or used. My husband Ryan and I only had two viable embryos after two rounds of IVF with two different egg donors, and one of those embryos was transferred in 2022, with the result being our amazing miracle child. But what to do with the other embryo, who could potentially become our son’s little brother? Let me share our story, with the intention that talking about something that is rarely discussed will offer both information, and hope, for those who are in search of embryos to build their family, and those who have unused embryos to offer.

As I mentioned, in the summer of 2022, only two embryos were created at the IVF clinic in the country of Georgia, where we were undergoing our surrogacy journey. (Our first try with our first egg donor resulted in no viable embryos, but our surrogacy agency was kind enough to give us another chance with a second egg donor). The genetic material was from my husband, and an egg donor who lived in the country of Georgia, but who was of Armenian ancestry. This wasn’t a particularly relevant detail to us when we chose her, because we chose her for other qualities - her university education, her interest in philanthropy, and the fact that she had brown curly hair and brown eyes, just like my husband and me.

When we found out that two embryos had been created, my husband wanted to have them both transferred, in the hopes that this would result in twins. I was skeptical about our ability to handle two babies at the same time, but I was willing to entertain the idea. When we were finally matched with a Georgian surrogate, about three months after the embryos were created, we asked her whether she would be open to carrying twins. Initially she said yes, but after our meeting with her, she told our agency coordinator that in fact, she wasn’t comfortable with the possibility of carrying twins. And our coordinator also stressed that the current guidance, based on medical outcomes, was to transfer only one embryo. Given that we didn’t know when or if we’d be matched with another surrogate, we decided to let go of the idea of twins, and to have just one embryo transferred. This happened in October of 2022, and we were blessed to find out that our surrogate was pregnant soon after. The other embryo stayed in storage at the clinic in Georgia, and all our attention turned towards following the pregnancy, praying, and preparing for the arrival of our son.

We continued to pay the monthly storage fees at the fertility clinic, and then about 6 months after our son was born, in the fall of 2023, we started to discuss what to do with the other embryo. We were both of many minds about it. Do we go on another surrogacy journey, and try to have another child? Were we up for that emotionally, financially, and energetically? We knew two other couples who had or were about to have another child with a second surrogate, and part of me was envious of their clarity and their experience of getting to give their child a sibling. My husband and I were both 49 when our son was born, so if we were going to bring another child into the world, it couldn’t wait much longer. We decided to try to make our decision by summer of 2024, which gave us about 6 months to explore options and get clarity.

That winter, I felt strongly that we couldn’t let that other embryo “go to waste.” My strong maternal instincts, and my love for my baby, made it hard to imagine letting go of the embryo by either donating it to the IVF clinic and never finding out what happened to it, or asking them to destroy it. In addition, as Remi became a little bit older, and wasn’t in my arms all the time, I found myself longing to hold a tiny infant again. Then, two things happened to confuse my clarity.

In April 2024, we took a family trip to visit my two very good friends from college. During our time with them, I found myself sharing my thoughts and feelings about the other embryo, and my strong consideration of having another child. Their response was unexpected and somewhat shocking to me. Although both of them had two children, who they loved deeply, they both stressed the challenges that had come with having two. One friend said something like, “Having two children isn’t twice as hard, it’s four times as hard.” They both talked about the specific issues they had found with raising two children, and also stressed how they had done it at the usual child rearing age, as opposed to me who had just turned 50. I went home from that trip chastened and taken aback.

Then, at the end of April, I, my husband, and little Remi, all got Covid, for the first time. Remi and I were especially hard hit, and there was one night when I was on the phone with the triage nurse and she suggested I bring him to Children’s Hospital. The experience of all of us being sick, and not being able to get any help from our parents or babysitters for fear of getting anyone else sick, was extremely challenging. I literally couldn’t imagine if that had happened while caring for two children.

These two experiences set me into such a state of confusion and uncertainty, that I realized I needed help with the decision. I had the intuitive hint to explore Internal Family Systems therapy, to help myself sort out the conflicting thoughts and feelings I had. Some of the parts that I learned to name and differentiate during those sessions were: the Tired Mother; the Martyr; Guilt; and Grief. By the end of my work with that therapist, I was able to sit with all of these parts, and let them all have their feelings: acknowledging the guilt I felt for abandoning a potential child; the grief I felt for letting go of the experience of raising siblings; and honoring how tired I was, and how frequently I had to give up my own needs to care for our son, which often led to resentment towards my husband.

Which brought me back to the question of what to do with the embryo. In addition to donating it to the clinic and never knowing what happened to it, and telling the clinic to destroy it, there was a third option. Back in February, I had shared in a parenting group about my conundrum, and another woman in that group, who had had a child thanks to a surrogate, told me about several Facebook groups where people donated and adopted embryos. That had never occurred to me! I joined some of the groups, and we decided to post in them with an offer of our embryo. Maybe we could find someone in the US, and preferably in Colorado, who would adopt our embryo, and then our son could grow up knowing his little brother! We were so happy and grateful that this option had come to us.

Then came the surreal experience of writing a post explaining our situation, and offering our embryo to strangers. In the process, we discovered several important things which we had had no idea about and which would very much limit who would be willing to adopt our embryo. One, that embryos created outside of the US are not allowed to be transferred to a woman in the US, per the FDA. So whoever adopted the embryo would have to travel to Georgia for the embryo transfer. And two, that most people wanted to adopt several embryos at once, in case the first ones were not successful. Nonetheless, we forged ahead; here is the post my husband and I wrote:

​​My husband and I are hoping to donate our one high quality tested male embryo in an open adoption to a married hetero couple. We live in Colorado and are both therapists and meditators, and lead healthy lifestyles, and would love to donate to a couple who shares similar values and lives in Colorado if possible. The embryo was created in the country of Georgia in Eastern Europe and the recipients would have to travel to Georgia in order to undergo IVF at the fertility clinic there. (Georgia has rules about who can undergo IVF, which is why we are looking for a married hetero couple who are medically unable to have children.) Two embryos were created with the help of a Georgian/Armenian egg donor and my husband’s DNA, and one of the embryos resulted in our beautiful, healthy, happy baby boy born to a surrogate mother in Georgia. Our family is complete and we would love to have our son’s little brother in our lives. We have traveled to Georgia twice, living there for 2 months when our son was born, so we would be happy to speak more with potential recipients about traveling and staying in Georgia, which we found to be a beautiful and interesting country. We already have a relationship with an English speaking fertility clinic there, so you would just have to be willing to undergo IVF in a foreign country, and then hopefully come back to the US pregnant to receive maternity care and give birth to your little miracle. We know this is an unusual offer, but we are hoping that we can find a family who is interested in a travel adventure as part of their journey towards building a family.

After laying bare our hearts, we waited. And got no responses, except for hugs and heart emojis. Ouch! Here we had this precious little being, and no one wanted him. Our deadline of Summer 2024 passed, and we hadn’t made any decisions. 

In September of 2024, I discovered an organization called All Paths Family Building. Their mission is this: We create a caring community for all people struggling with fertility and family building. We provide the psychosocial support, resources, and advocacy that are critical to those trying to grow their families.

One of the free peer support groups they offered, and that I began attending, was called One and No Longer Trying for Another. In that group, I met other parents who had gone on a journey to create their families, but who were deciding, or dealing with the medical necessity, of only having one child. I learned about and read some books (listed in the Resources section) and began to try to embrace our decision to not have another child. I myself was an only child (except for two half sisters who were born when I was a teenager), and I began to contemplate the benefits of only having one child, both for us as parents, and for Remi himself. These books worked to dismantle the preconceptions about only children (they are selfish, or antisocial, or lonely, etc) and listed out the emotional, economic, and energetic benefits. It was helpful to be with others who were making this same decision, and helped me to come to more acceptance about the path we were on.

We continued to be in limbo about what to do with our other embryo, and it was time to pay for another 6 months of embryo storage. I got the invoice, and didn’t do anything with it, hoping the problem would go away if I ignored it. A few weeks later, in November 2024, I happened to be scrolling on Facebook, and a post in one of the embryo donation groups jumped out. A couple was looking for an embryo with Armenian ancestry. Wow - I wasn’t expecting that! I messaged the woman who posted it (I’ll call her Karine), and we began communicating on WhatsApp. We met Karine and her husband over Zoom, and everything felt in alignment, including the fact that they were currently living in a country not too far from Georgia, and were very open to going there for the embryo transfer. They were also interested in the boys knowing about each other, meeting at some point, and being a part of each other's lives. So even though they lived far away from us, this felt like a wonderful and miraculous possibility, and a way for us to let go of the embryo but know that we would learn what had happened to it, and possibly get to have the child in our lives in some way. Best of both worlds! I messaged our clinic in Georgia to find out what the process would be to donate the embryo to this couple, but when they didn’t respond right away, I began panicking that they had destroyed our embryo because we hadn’t paid the invoice…but they finally got back to me and all was well. Karine went through medical tests and checkups confirming that she was a good candidate for the transfer, and our clinic drew up a simple change of Power of Attorney form for us to transfer ownership of the embryo to the couple. We got the form apostilled at our Secretary of State’s office, and shipped it to Georgia in March. That was both a big moment of letting go of our connection to our potential son, as well as being an anticlimactic moment at the local shipping store.

My husband and I held a small ceremony, releasing our embryo to the universe, and sending prayers that he would be safe and loved.

Medical preparations began in April, and Karine kept us in the loop at every step of the way. We met over Zoom several times, and it was exciting to help her and her husband prepare to be in Tbilisi, a city we had spent months in during our journey with surrogacy. We also began discussing Karine’s connection with Armenia and the Armenian Genocide, and how both our son and the other embryo are in some way a continuation of the Armenian people. I researched local Armenian groups and children’s books about Armenia and it inspired me to make sure that our son knows about this connection.

On May 3, the embryo was thawed and transferred, and Karine was kind enough to give us updates along the way. All went well! And on May 14th, she did a home pregnancy test which showed a slight pink line! So many miracles had occurred just to get to this point. And although it would not be a particularly easy pregnancy, mom and baby would be safe and growing well together throughout.

I had been considering taking a postpartum doula training course since before the pregnancy began, and signed up for one that took place in August 2024. My vision is to work with people who are becoming parents through unconventional means, such as egg or embryo donation, IVF, or surrogacy. (And, I’m open to working with anyone who is pregnant!) In any case, part of the process of becoming certified involves working with three families, and so I offered to work with Karine to help her prepare for her postpartum time. She sent me ultrasound videos from her checkups, and it was so reminiscent of anticipating updates from our surrogate when Remi was in utero. Just as I had done during our own surrogacy journey, Karine and I planned a ceremony to mark the 120th day of the pregnancy, at the end of August. It was a lovely simple ceremony, celebrated over Zoom. She had gathered prayer blessings from her family members, and we each wrote and read a blessing for the little boy on the way. Here is what I offered during the ceremony:

“Today marks 120 days since the spark of life I helped create began growing in the world.

I offer love and light to this child, and to the one who carries him with care and courage.

Though this child will not be mine to raise, my spirit blesses him with every breath.”

One of the things I love to do is create ceremonies to honor meaningful moments.

We met several times over the next few months, going over a postpartum planning document that I had created for her. (Reach out if you’d like support with your own postpartum journey.) And every Sunday morning, I set aside special time during my yoga and meditation practice to wish Remi’s little brother well, imagining him healthy and safe, and letting him know he was loved. And also, gently letting him go. 

The child’s due date, oddly enough, was on my birthday, in mid January. Karine and I had planned to meet one final time at the end of December, because the doctor had recommended a C section in early January. Then, during breakfast on December 29th, we got a video of a tiny healthy baby. He had been born 3 weeks early, just like Remi! I felt so grateful that he had arrived safely, and that the prayers and wishes of so many people had been realized. It was a joy to receive photos and videos, and to see similarities between Remi at that age, as well as my husband’s father, who Remi and now his little brother very much take after.

Our hope is to meet this precious little one in person, and get the brothers together, sometime in the summer of 2026. 

I’ll end with the thoughts expressed by the new father, who, when I asked permission to write about this journey, said: “I think it is an inspiring story that will encourage many that are in our position looking for hope, for the day to be a complete family like ours is now thanks to you and Ryan! Yes, we (us and our parents) love him very much and we are so thankful to have him daily.”