The Frozen Future: The Hidden Emotions of Stored Embryos

Source: Inga Gedrovicha/Shutterstock

When Charlie called to book their first couples session, he said he and his wife needed help working through something he called “our future in the freezer.” It was an unusual way to phrase it, but he went on to explain the dilemma they were facing: Should they try to create more embryos through IVF, or use the two they already had?

Charlie and Anna had been through more than most couples can imagine. Six years of trying. Four rounds of IVF. Three heartbreaking miscarriages. And now, two frozen embryos—one euploid, their best chance at a healthy pregnancy with the expected number of chromosomes, and one mosaic, a more uncertain option with a mix of normal and abnormal cells.

Even with embryos “on ice,” their journey felt far from settled. They didn’t know whether to move forward with what they had or risk making more.

Maybe Babies

That difference in potential added a layer of complexity that Charlie and Anna hadn’t anticipated. Should they transfer the euploid embryo first and hope it works? Should they plan to transfer both embryos, one at a time, and see how things unfold? Should they try to create more embryos now, before Anna’s already low egg supply made that even harder?

With time not on their side, every decision felt urgent and paralyzing—because hope didn’t guarantee success, fear didn’t mean failure, and uncertainty—even about the mosaic embryo—didn’t mean impossibility. They only wanted one child.

What they were really grappling with was something neither of them had expected: how haunted they felt by the question, “What happens if we create more embryos and don’t use them?” They had started calling them their “maybe babies.”

In session, they explained the surreal nature of it all. This was something they hadn’t thought about or been told might happen. They had been so focused on simply trying to have a baby that the idea of ever having extra embryos—let alone needing to decide what to do with them—felt beyond imagination. It wasn’t a future they had planned for or even talked about.

Suddenly, they felt even more isolated. This wasn’t something they could easily discuss with friends or family. How could anyone outside this experience truly project themselves into such a complicated future, let alone understand the emotional implications?

And while they weren’t deeply religious, they still felt the weight of the ethical questions—What would it mean to create life they might never use? Was it right to discard embryos? Could they donate them to another family, or to science? It was difficult to talk to anyone about that part. They didn’t want the label of “playing God,” and they knew that if they brought it up with others, that judgment would follow (ASRM, 2023).

The Hidden Burden of Frozen Embryos

It’s impossible to fully predict how you’ll feel about frozen embryos in the future. You might think you know what you’ll do with your remaining embryos, but that can shift. And shift again. That’s not because you’re indecisive. It’s because life changes us, as does loss. The experience of holding a baby in your arms, after years of wondering, also changes us. What once felt like a clear plan might suddenly bring up questions you didn’t expect.

You may feel a wave of feelings you never anticipated. You may have always said you only wanted one child. But what happens if that one child arrives, and you find yourself thinking about their sibling in storage? Or if you’re faced with letting go of embryos you once saw as backup plans and now feel like something more?

And it’s not just your emotions that shape this. It’s the world around us. Religious beliefs. Cultural narratives. Political messages. Even the language people use—like “leftover embryos” or “discarding life”—can add to this complex picture (Hammarberg et al., 2008).

Ultimately, we make decisions based on the information we have in a given moment. But that moment is a snapshot of who you are now, not who you’ll be after all of this. This is why no one can tell you what the “right” decision is. And why it’s OK if your plans change over time.

Infertility Essential Reads

‘Cat Ladies’ and Declining Birth Rates: Is There a Link?

When Men Disappear From Their Own Fertility Journey

Talking Points

These emotional conversations deserve space and aren’t just logistical considerations:

1. What do these embryos mean to you? Do they feel like possibilities? Children? Biological material? Hope? Guilt? All of the above?
2. Are you hoping, avoiding, or postponing decisions? Are they holding space for future hope? Or does the delay reflect fear of finality?
3. What would future-you want you to have done? (This is the question Charlie and Anna found most helpful.) If you fast-forwarded 10 years, regardless of whether you had more children or not, what decision would feel most aligned with your values, emotional truth, and peace of mind?

The Emotional Toll of Deciding

In the initial years, freezing your remaining embryos buys you time to decide what you want to do. But sometimes, couples find themselves stuck in limbo for years, unable to decide. One partner may want to discard, donate, or transfer, while the other feels unsure or opposed. These differences can lead to guilt, shutdown, or quiet resentment (Jones & Wilson, 2020).

Even when the decision feels clear, grief can still arrive as a reminder of the journey, accompanied by chagrin over choices that feel symbolic, final, or ethically complicated—even if the embryos aren’t viewed as children.

This gets even harder when more embryos are involved. Some families use one or two, then pause. Others feel complete but struggle to let go of the rest.

If you’re in that space, these questions can help guide your reflection:

• If you already have a child, do you want to try for a sibling, or are you feeling pressure to?
• Would you ever donate embryos to another family, or not at all? How does each option feel in your body, not just in theory?
• If your embryos were suddenly gone, would you feel relief? Grief? Something else?

These aren’t questions you have to answer right away. But they can help you get clearer on what matters to you, beyond fear, pressure, or outside expectations.

There Is No Perfect Decision

Frozen embryos hold potential, but they also hold pain, hope, and identity. There’s no blueprint for what to do with them. Only a process of asking honest questions, sitting with grief, and choosing with intention rather than fear.

If you’re wrestling with what to do with your embryos, know that you’re not alone. And the goal isn’t to get it “right.” The goal is to make a decision that honors your story and your peace.