I may be going out on a limb here, but I believe Thomas Aquinas was wrong. Humans are not quickened at some point long after conception and then ensouled. Rather, humans live a continuous life unto death, starting from their conception. Historically, that was within the privacy of a bedroom and now takes place in other arenas. During this process, scientists can observe that some embryos die shortly after coming into being and others continue until they reach the end of their longer life. As The Lion King's character sings, it’s the circle of life.
Well, that used to be true. We’ve created pause buttons of sorts. I currently have an eighteen-week-old baby in utero. Not eighteen weeks post-birth, eighteen weeks post-implantation. Although this baby was conceived in a lab many years ago, she was frozen after her creation, and, sadly, her biological parents found out that they were not able to carry her themselves. Out of the depths of love for their unborn children, they sought to place them with others–like me–to carry and raise as their own.
Modern fertility methods have made this possible. But these evolving technologies scared me in the early 2000s when I was a student at Bible College. I tried to explain to others what I was concerned about, but it fell on deaf ears. I felt like I was trying to explain that we were living in the time of the Jetsons, and there were reasons to worry, but people weren’t interested or couldn’t understand. They had no mental hook upon which to hang my misgivings.
So, I changed my tactics, almost without thinking. Many are unconcerned with things they do not understand, but they are intrigued by anything that looks like magic. So, I began to share with others that I’d been studying the bioethics of our modern fertility practices, and I was planning on birthing Korean or Ethiopian children one day. You should have seen their faces. There were not many who believed me, but suddenly, more were listening. “You can do that?” “Sure,” I said, “I mean, I prefer Ethiopian skin hues with their high yellow, and Koreans are probably easier to birth.” Suddenly people had more time to listen to what was happening in the fertility world, and the sea of frozen children that will never be implanted is growing dramatically.
Somewhere along the line, I grew determined to adopt at least a few of those embryos.
I’m excited to have a baby, and I’m trusting that the Lord did not lead me here to abandon the both of us now, but rather, He has proclaimed that He is the Father to the Fatherless. Few people think that is sufficient, and I understand, at least in part. I grew up without my dad in the house, so I understand their concern intimately. The Lord often reminds me that I came to know Him as Father as a result of that period in my life. He has promised the same for this child. My desire to marry and for this child to have an early father is in the hands of the Lord.
As I have conversations, it is difficult to convey that my actions are not an advocacy for single parenthood. Rather, I’m advocating that one parent is superior to the death of the child. I’m pregnant because we have ventured outside of God’s design for procreation. There is a cost. Just as every law on the books is a result of people not following the Ten Commandments, each frozen child, birthed or destroyed, is impacted in some way, even if it’s the changing of birth order or having their life placed on pause. This is not me doubting the sovereignty of God as much as acknowledging that we have free will.
In one sense, this journey started in college. In another sense, it started about five years ago. I felt like the Lord was prompting me to adopt embryos as a single person. There were concerns from people I knew that I was moving away from God’s design for family. In some ways, even though these technologies are frequently utilized today, they are similar to my college days. People knew about them, many had prayed for people using them, but still had very little knowledge regarding what happened to embryos that were not implanted.
It was mind-boggling for all of us who struggled with the philosophical and religious questions, and I’m grateful for the kindness that so many showed me during that time. My love and respect for my family, community and church leadership are immense, and I recall with dismay a few conversations that I wish I’d handled differently. To this day, many of these dear people are some of my closest friends and some of God’s kindest gifts to me.
I felt like the Lord was calling me to act, but I did not want to stray outside of the authority of my church community. I sought counsel. Many offered biblical principles and expressed concerns while honoring my desire to protect life.
In one sense, this journey started in college. In another sense, it started about five years ago. I felt like the Lord was prompting me to adopt embryos as a single person. There were concerns from people I knew that I was moving away from God’s design for family. In some ways, even though these technologies are frequently utilized today, they are similar to my college days. People knew about them, and many had prayed for people using them, but still had very little knowledge regarding what happened to embryos that were not implanted.
It was mind-boggling for all of us who struggled with the philosophical and religious questions, and I’m grateful for the kindness that so many showed me during that time. My love and respect for my family, community and church leadership are immense, and I recall with dismay a few conversations that I wish I’d handled differently. To this day, many of these dear people are some of my closest friends and some of God’s kindest gifts to me.
I felt like the Lord was calling me to act, but I did not want to stray outside of the authority of my church community. I sought counsel. Many offered biblical principles and expressed concerns while honoring my desire to protect life.
Shortly after that, the Lord led me to move forward. I was living in a house that I’d purchased in Detroit with a friend, and we sold the house. Because I did not have stable housing, I could not pursue traditional adoption routes through adoption organizations that required a home study. Also, that route cost tens of thousands of dollars that I didn’t have, and I knew that what I did have would go towards implantation fees. I also did not desire to pursue an embryo bank, which created a middleman for embryo transfer, removing any connection with the biological parents. Generally speaking, embryo banks allow one embryo to be granted at a time. If that embryo fails to implant or the embryo does not survive the thawing process, then you are considered for another embryo, and so forth.
I opted for another route that was available to me since embryos weren’t technically “adopted” in the United States. They were considered the property of those who created them, and, therefore, all ownership transfers came through property agreement law. Therefore, I was able to sign up for an app that I affectionately called Baby Hinge. Similar to an online dating app, you connect with families or individuals who are seeking to place embryos with people. Think “swipe left for Asian girl embryos”. It was a fascinating and emotionally difficult process from various angles.
When I was contacted by a single dad, who’d created embryos with an egg donor, I knew that the Lord was telling me that this was not the right match for me. It was heartbreaking. In one sense, I felt like I was turning my life upside down for this, and then was told no.
Not too long after that, my embryo adoption journey continued when a wife reached out to me from the UK. I had no idea at the time that the Brits did not allow for any genetic material to survive for longer than 10 years. The couple already had a set of twins, and in that process, the mother almost died in childbearing.
Therefore, she was terrified to carry again if her birthed children would become motherless, yet her heart broke for her frozen children, and she was overwhelmed with the deadline imposed on her by the law. They had received a two-year extension due to COVID, but their 12 years were ending, and they had three remaining embryos.
During this time, I also had a friend who was in her last trimester and was looking at losing her baby to a lifetime imprisonment. She encouraged me to adopt her child, but I knew that our friendship couldn’t sustain that, and I knew that others could care for her child well. It was a time of confusion and stress as I wondered which options to consider and waited for the Lord’s leading.
Regarding the UK couple, I knew that the likelihood of their children surviving was unlikely with the looming deadline. We tried to create a feasible plan. Logistically, it was a nightmare. International travel for embryos was possible but expensive. I could attempt to implant one or two in England, and then bring the other embryo back to the States to be stored. I could pay a courier, or rent equipment to transfer the embryo myself. A stark description from Steel Magnolias came to mind: “They carry the organs in beer coolers. The doctors take out their six-packs, throw in some dry ice and a heart, and get on a plane.” As we were in the process of drawing up paperwork, the UK decided that the embryos could not be placed with others, because there was a positive Hepatitis test. The government would only allow the embryos to be implanted into the biological mother. The biological mother was devastated, and I never learned the outcome.
Not long after that, another friend contacted me that I knew through an anti-human trafficking ministry that wanted to place her embryos with me. I was in the process of connecting with another family, and I felt torn. I’d only connected with one group at a time since I didn’t want to have to decide between two families, and that’s the position that I found myself in. It was strange to spend time with this woman’s children knowing that it looked like I’d have some of their siblings. Sadly, within 24 hours of each other, both families, for different reasons, changed their minds. I remember the training I was at. I remember the bathroom stall I was in. I remember wiping away tears before walking back into a room with a smile. It was devastating. I was done.
I told the Lord that this journey hadn’t been my idea. I wasn’t angry–He was the Lord. But I was broken. During this time, I moved to a small house on a canal. Some nights I paddleboarded until my feet went numb. I spent a lot of time before the Lord, but there was nothing to say.
Many months passed, and there came a time when the Lord was calling me to apply for a teaching job, and I stepped away from my position to pursue it. That same weekend, I drove to Asbury for the night, which, in case you’re unsure, is not close to Detroit. But on my way home the next day, the Lord made it clear that I needed to begin the adoption process again. I reminded Him that I’d just quit my job, and that I was going to have to talk to all the staff and volunteers the next day, pushing the thought out of my mind.
After that dreadful Tuesday, I happened to go see a friend who was watching her granddaughter, who was being especially adorable that day. I knew the Lord was chipping away at me, and I told Him that He had a month. I would get back online for a month. In the world of embryos, or in any form of adoption, really, that’s unrealistic. But my wounded heart was still sore.
So, I did it. I logged back and paid the fee for a month. After a week or so, a couple reached out on a Thursday. They were living in Chicago, and I just happened to be in Chicago for a course that was starting four days from then. So, we met on Sunday in Chicago, and after a few steps we completed the paperwork. It was finalized a month to the day of my unrighteous demand that God meet my deadline.
There were a few months of attempting to transfer the embryos in Chicago, but it became apparent that it was not as feasible as the biological parents and I believed it to be originally. So, the frozen kids were FedExed to Detroit with a trained courier.
As if the situation couldn’t get any more dramatic, as soon as the embryos arrived, I met someone and began a whirlwind romance worthy of Hallmark, and this surprise twist delayed my implantation as my new love interest and I discussed our options. Complicated suddenly became ultra-complicated, and for months we considered getting married. God had another plan, though, and over time it became apparent that our marriage was not going to work. Still, I was determined to proceed with the implantation, but I hesitated, unsure of the timing. Along the way, I felt the Lord graciously reassure me that I did not have to rush, and, over time, He made it clear when to proceed.
For individuals undergoing in vitro fertilization (IVF), the process is extensive and often physically demanding. While this is a simplified overview and does not encompass all steps, the journey typically begins with women taking hormone treatments to stimulate the production of multiple eggs. These eggs are then retrieved and fertilized with sperm, which may come from either the intended parent or a donor, depending on fertility circumstances.
In my case, I did not undergo the initial egg retrieval and fertilization process but became involved after the embryos were created. To prepare my body for implantation, I underwent extensive medical testing and hormone therapy. This involved administering hormones through injections, oral medications, and patches to create an optimal environment for embryo transfer.
The embryo transfer itself is often considered one of the least complex steps. During the procedure, a microscopic embryo is placed into the uterus using a medical-grade catheter, guided by ultrasound. Following the transfer, I continued hormone treatments until approximately the 10th week of pregnancy, at which point the pregnancy progressed naturally.
Truly, I still cannot believe that I’m pregnant. God willing, Maria Joy will enter the world at the end of June, and in the meantime, I have two more embryos waiting in the wings. I would love continued prayers for this journey—thus far, the Lord has led me, and I trust He will continue to be my faithful Guide.
This path has been unique and not governed in the traditional sense, meaning a significant portion of my expenses goes toward medical costs, including testing, monitoring, and embryo transfers. For those who feel led to contribute to the legal and medical adoption fees, I deeply appreciate your support. Please continue to keep us in your prayers, and thank you to those who wish to give. Your kindness and generosity mean the world to me, and I am profoundly grateful.
