Help Us Become Parents

In March of 2014, I went to the ER for what I thought might be appendicitis or food poisoning, but after hours of tests, they determined I needed to be seen quickly by a gynecologic oncologist and took me to another hospital across town by ambulance. My aunt Rhonda had passed away in her 40s from ovarian cancer, and my grandmother had been battling it for years, so you can imagine the fear I felt. My doctor initially believed it to be a uterine sarcoma, and with my family history, he strongly suggested that he take my uterus as well as the tumor to prevent possibly spilling cancer back into my body. Because I was terrified and convinced I might die otherwise, I agreed.

I had what turned out to be a massive fibroid tumor on my uterus. Totally benign. I was of course greatly relieved that I didn’t have cancer, but there are no words for the grief I felt. Kids are — and always have been — my whole world, and motherhood was something I always assumed would be in my future. Without that possibility, I didn’t know what to do with myself. I choreographed dances about motherhood, wrote songs to the kids I’d never have, painted about feeling hopeless and empty, and tried to accept “not a mother” as part of my identity. I poured myself into my dance students and thought maybe that would fill the void, but while those relationships meant so much to me, there’s no substitute for raising a child. I craved family and permanence. The best I could do was find ways to cope.

A lot of life happened over the next several years, including the death of my dad from pancreatic cancer and the start of a global pandemic. And then, in the altered universe of Covid, I met this guy, Martin. He was completely unlike any person I’d ever met, and I was undeniably smitten from our very first date. 

He was so charming and charismatic and warm, with a beautiful smile and kind eyes, and I was falling all over myself. I told him on that first date that I couldn’t have kids because I didn’t want to get too attached if that was a deal breaker for him, but he just hugged me. He felt so special to me, so immediately.

The next day I learned that he was this incredibly driven opera singer who graduated from Juilliard, performed all over the world, and was preparing for his Carnegie Hall debut… I was in awe, but I also felt a jolt of sadness. There was no way in my mind this guy was going to stick around. His work was so exciting and demanding, and I just couldn’t imagine fitting into his world at all.

Plus… I had this massive defect — this inability to have children — that made it really difficult for me to see myself as a valuable partner to another person at that time. But he clearly liked me, and I couldn’t change how I felt about him, so I just decided I would let it play out and enjoy whatever time I got with him, texting daily and traveling to new places every month or so to see him perform.

Then in September 2021, Martin told me he wanted to have kids. My heart dropped, as he knew I couldn’t — I thought he was breaking up with me. But what he was saying was that he wanted to have kids with me, and so he wondered if I’d be open to surrogacy.

I had never considered this as an option because it felt so completely unattainable for me. Surrogacy is so expensive, and I was quick to remind Martin that he could have children so much easier with basically anyone else. His response was clear and beautiful and gave me hope that I had never felt before — there was no one else in the world that he would rather have raise his children.

(I really love thinking back to this moment now that we’re married.)

We talked about it and dreamt about it, researched online and asked trusted friends if they knew anything about it. We determined what we would need to do first (egg retrieval), but the question of how we would afford it was still unanswered. A few short months later, my brother called to let me know our dad’s estate was settled and he had a check with my portion of it ready to mail. So… Martin and I made an appointment, knowing if we moved forward, we would find a way.

My inheritance was enough to cover two rounds of IVF and egg retrievals. Because of this, we have been able to create three beautiful, miracle embryos. The process was hard and frankly very scary for me given my previous medical trauma, but I have always wanted to be a mother — more than anything. The fact that it is even a possibility now gives me more hope for the future than I know how to express, and the fact that my daddy made the first leg of this journey possible gives me faith that this is going to happen for us.

We are now at the point where we are seeking your help. Though we were able to create embryos, the cost of surrogacy is still out of reach for us. With that in mind, in place of wedding, birthday, and Christmas gifts, we humbly ask for the greatest gift you could ever give us: a contribution to help us grow our family.

Thank you for taking the time to hear our story, and we would love for you to become a part of it. Please share our message with your friends and family. All donations are welcome, and no donation is too small.

Contributions can be made using this page, PayPal (@bakaribabyfund), or Venmo (@emily-fansler and @martinbakari).

With love and gratitude,

Emmy and Martin