By Crystal Chiang

Transfer day can feel a little bit like making it to base camp on Mount Everest. You know you haven’t reached the summit yet, but you’ve made significant progress and can celebrate the first major milestone. It definitely felt that way for us. Even though I had gone through transfers myself before, transfer day with a surrogate felt different, and there were a few things I know now that I wish I had known then.

Everybody is nervous.
Sure, I didn’t sleep the night before. I made the long drive with a pounding heart and very few words, and I showed up without my lucky transfer socks. I had a lot on my mind. But as I rounded the corner and saw our surrogate in the waiting room, I realized just how nervous she was, too.

We had one embryo. This was a lot of pressure.

And while she knew she didn’t entirely control the outcome, she was holding her breath and hoping for the best right alongside us.

I was surprised to learn that she had to do some of the transfer process alone. Different clinics have different rules, and while we were lucky enough to be invited into the actual transfer room, she still had conversations with the doctor privately. That’s normal.

I was also grateful that the clinic staff told us where to sit, behind her head, so we could see the monitors while still protecting some of her privacy. As everyone took their places, even the nurses seemed a little excited and jittery. They were cheering for us, too.

Two weeks is a LONG time.
Nobody really knew what to do after the transfer, so we went to brunch. After that, it became difficult to think about anything other than whether our surrogate was pregnant. The famous TWW, or two-week wait, is very real.

While it isn’t recommended, our surrogate was willing to take a few home pregnancy tests. I genuinely thought seeing a positive test would make me feel better. Spoiler alert: it didn’t.

In reality, one test made me want to see another, and then another after that. She took test after test, watching to see if the lines got darker. We shined flashlights on them, zoomed in on photos, and searched endlessly for that second line. We even changed brands to see whether we were “more pregnant” on the blue tests than the pink ones.

In retrospect, all the testing made us more anxious. It might have been better to follow the doctor’s orders and simply wait for the blood test, even if two weeks felt like a lifetime.

Some transfers don’t work.
One of the hardest parts about fertility in general is that IVF is often marketed like a sure thing. We had already experienced our own IVF journey and understood it wasn’t as guaranteed as the glossy pamphlets and clinic brochures made it seem.

And often, surrogacy is the same.

It feels like with a healthy uterus and a trusted partner, this should work every time. But in reality, transfers to a surrogate result in live birth only about 50% of the time. And we ended up in the not-so-good 50%.

I was crushed. Maybe even more crushed than when it hadn’t worked for me personally.

Something happens to our brains when we experience disappointment over and over again. In some ways, our minds try to protect us. We begin to believe that if bad things happened once, they will definitely happen again.

I wish I could tell you that wasn’t true for us. But after two transfers and two positive home tests followed by negative blood tests, I couldn’t imagine a future that would turn out any differently.

Some transfers DO work.
After all of that heartbreak, I was incredibly grateful for our coordinator, Whitney, who constantly reminded us there was still reason to hope, even after a couple of failed attempts. And I was especially thankful for our surrogate, who was willing to stick with us even when I felt like giving up.

I’ll never forget the night before our third transfer when our surrogate brought me a little cake with one word written on top: Hope.

We entered that third transfer with guarded expectations. We lit a candle, said our prayers, went through the motions, and this time, we simply waited.

And we were absolutely shocked.

We were cautiously optimistic when the home test said pregnant. Then a little more optimistic when the blood test confirmed it. And then the ultrasound confirmed it again.

Just like that, our streak of disappointment turned into a cautious and nervous opportunity for joy.

These memories matter.
During our journey, I often found myself thinking, If I can just get through this part, then I’ll enjoy the journey.

And if it weren’t for our incredibly thoughtful surrogate, I might have missed the memory-making entirely: brunch after transfer, transfer day photos, lucky socks, and all the little moments I was too nervous to appreciate at the time.

Now, on the other side of it all, I cherish those photos and memories in ways I never could have imagined. Even the photos from transfers that didn’t work feel meaningful now, because they brought us one step closer to the one that finally did.

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🎙️Learn More: What happens when both the intended mom and the surrogate choose joy over fear? In this episode of the Create A Happy Family Podcast, you’ll meet Madison and Jesse, an intended mother and surrogate whose relationship was rooted in authenticity, vulnerability, and celebration from the very beginning.