Hi! We're Aimee & Kyle Murphy!
When I (Aimee) was 21, and shortly after Kyle and I had first met (though truth be told neither of us remembers meeting the other—this was not a love at first sight sort of deal), I found this framed certificate at a thrift store in the South Side of Pittsburgh. The certificate was from some heraldic name registry, with "Murphy" on it. Thinking that was funny, I spent 50-cents to buy it and gave it to Kyle as a sort of joke. The certificate informed us that the Murphy family motto was "brave and hospitable," and showed the family crest, and Kyle chortled and put it up in the entryway of the house he shared with his brother and some other friends.
Shortly thereafter, we danced at a friend's wedding and started going on dates and we grew in trust to love one another. After a year of dating, we were engaged. After a year of engagement (and me starting a "side project"—Life Matters Journal, which became Rehumanize International), we were married. We'd planned to have a big family (I wanted 10 kids, had first and middle names picked out for both boys and girls), our hearts were open and full of expectation: we hoped to welcome many children into our family with ease and delight.
Alas, an easy path to building family was not in the cards for us; infertility struck us hard, and fast. After just 8 months of marriage and "trying to conceive," we learned we were infertile. That kinda wrecked us, to be honest. We tried visiting various doctors and got poked and prodded and tested more than most people do in their lifetimes. During the early years of our marriage, we wrestled with faith and unbelief, with hope and despair, with courage and apathy: but our love stayed true. Oh, and we got some furry friends to help us on this very heavy journey.
After years of trying the few medical interventions that we could afford, we eventually put a pause on "trying to conceive" at all. It was so draining to go through the cycle of hope and despair over and over and over again. So, we stopped, and discerned, and prayed about what was next for us. We still had that silly little 50-cent "heraldic name registry" certificate framed in our house, and we felt drawn to the motto: "brave and hospitable." We knew that, even if we couldn't have children "the normal way," that we were still called to radical hospitality—to open our hearts and our home to those who need it, as much as we are able.
Over the years, we've opened our doors to dozens of young adults trying to find their footing in the world. More than just a place to lay their heads, we've also hoped to be family to them, to be authentic witnesses to love, and to create a safe space for them to unfold. Though it has sometimes been challenging, it has also been a true gift. To this day, we are doing the work of building "found family" with our sweet housemates, Mary Ann and Sarah. Together, we all hope to continue this work of radical hospitality for the rest of our lives (whether informally as we've been doing, or through foster care).
This brings us to today—after years of prayer and discernment, we'd like to be hospitable to a particular group of children in need, who have very particular needs: embryonic children.
You see, in the U.S. today, there are over 400,000 embryonic humans stuck in freezers, in a sort of "limbo" where they cannot live their lives. These children are the product of an unregulated IVF industry, where a client receiving IVF treatment could have up to 20 or more embryos created. In many circumstances, there are so many embryos "left over" after a couple is "done having children" that these tiny humans end up remaining frozen, unable to grow or be a part of the family they were created for. It's excessive and dehumanizing. This is where we come in: though we know we can't save all of the embryos in storage, we want to do what we can to give a family and an opportunity at life to some of these children currently stuck on ice. We have to do what we can with what we have.
We believe this is part of the radical hospitality that we have been called to in our life, and its something that had even been on my heart before we married, because of my own work for human dignity and prenatal rights. We are open to adopting 6+ embryos, with the hopes that with our love, support, and care, they will all make it to full-term and birth and live happy, healthy, long lives. After we raise the money to be able to afford the fees involved with embryo adoption, we will get matched, gain custody of the embryos, and I will go through a medical process called "Frozen Embryo Transfer" (or FET): where, once per "round", an embryo will be placed in my uterus, in hopes that each tiny human will be "sticky" and with the medical help, can make it to birth.
If you're reading this and you're like "wow Aimee and Kyle this sounds like some sci-fi level sh*t"—honestly, you're not wrong. It kind of is. I've been doing research on this industry and the dehumanization and violence within it for years now through my work with Rehumanize International, which is what precipitated this decision. We'd encourage you to discern if embryo adoption could be a part of what radical hospitality you're called to in your own life, because these tiny humans need families, need love, need care. Our current system of treating them as property—to be frozen indefinitely—is not tenable. We have felt a call to action, and we hope that you will help us give a home to children in need.
Please consider giving towards our adoption fund. By doing so, you'll not only help us give a family and a home to these children, but you'll also help us:
- put all 5 of our bedrooms to good use;
- let us share our collection of 200+ board games with kiddos;
- finally help Kyle be able to tell his "Dad Jokes" to our own children!
It's been a difficult road for us, emotionally, physically, and financially. (With some special emphasis on the last part there...) See, we've both worked in the nonprofit world on and off for a combined 16+ years, and it doesn't pay as well as the public sector. Starting a revolutionary human rights nonprofit—while admirable—came with a small salary (that is, once I started getting one, after working for years as a volunteer). And it's seemed that once we finally got to a stable financial place one time or another, some sort of financial crisis or other would happen to us. This time, (lol,) the transmission on our one and only vehicle went out while we were on a family trip to Michigan. To get it replaced and get our car back on the road, we've had to spend close to the equivalent amount of funds we'd need to cover this adoption process. It's been gutting.
So this is where you come in:
Anything you can give is worthwhile, whether it's $15, $50, $100, $500, or $1,000. Our community has never failed to show up for us in a time of need, and for that we are so deeply grateful. Thank you, thank you, thank you so much for reading our story and investing in our dream, and we can't wait to share the adventure with you.
