“Surrogacy Was Never the Plan:” Rachel’s Family Building Journey through Adoption, IVF as a Mom, and Surrogacy with Her Last Embryo

Rachel Mangahas is a certified coach, speaker and advocate for individuals navigating infertility, adoption, surrogacy and family/societal expectations. After growing her own family through adoption and surrogacy, she supports others on their own journeys to reduce their stress, take breaks, and find joy. You can learn more about her work at rachelpm.com or tune into her podcast on Spotify.

When Rachel Mangahas first began her family-building journey in her mid-twenties, infertility was the last thing she expected to face. “You think of infertility and it usually happens to someone older,” she recalls. After a difficult IVF experience left her feeling emotionally and physically depleted, she paused treatment and turned to  adoption. That decision opened a new path for Rachel and her husband y which led to  two international adoptions from Korea and, later, a twin pregnancy via surrogacy.

In this conversation, she opens up about the emotional and cultural layers of infertility, navigating family dynamics, and the different kinds of control and surrender required in both adoption and surrogacy. Ralph knows Rachel and her husband from their Korean adoption journey and kept up with them for their subsequent surrogacy journey. Her success and story is unique and worth sharing with our readers. Rachel now has a podcast called It’s How You Carry It and coaches women with accepting infertility.

Early Dreams and Expectations

Did you ever feel pressure from your family or cultural expectations when it came to having children or building a large family?

A little bit. I feel like the number of kids wasn’t the biggest pressure. It was definitely talked about often, and I had that idea too—because I loved having a big family, with lots of cousins. I only have one brother, and my husband has one brother, so it was like, “Oh, we want a loud house with a bunch of kids and strong relationships.”

From the family side, they didn’t really push it. They’d just say things like, “Well, grandma had seven—you can do it too. If you want five, just keep going.” They knew I always said I wanted five.

The pressure wasn’t really about how many—it was more like, “Start having kids already.” Like, When are you going to have them?

For me, it wasn’t too bad. When people asked, I had my go-to responses like, “We’re trying.” I kept it tight. I didn’t really let anyone in, especially about IVF or what we were going through.

What affected me more was how our families only saw one version of how this was supposed to go: you get pregnant, you have kids. That’s it. They didn’t understand the other paths, or why it might not be working. They’d make comments like I was doing something wrong—like something was wrong with me. That’s what triggered me.

I’d push back and say, “You know there are two people in this equation, right? ” I’d end it with, “We know what we’re doing. We’re working with doctors who understand. I’m trying my best.”

But yeah, what hit me most were comments like, “You’re probably eating the wrong things,” or “You’re not exercising enough.” I didn’t believe any of it—but it still hurt.

How did your Filipino upbringing and family dynamics shape your experience with infertility and adoption—and how did you navigate those cultural expectations along the way?

Yeah, 100%.

Being Filipino and growing up in a Filipino household with a lot of Asian friends and being around Asian communities, you rarely see families that have adopted or done surrogacy. If they did struggle, it was definitely more taboo. No one talked about it.

We didn’t tell [my family] much because there was such a lack of understanding. We never saw examples of anyone around us going through anything like this. So the pressure really came from myself. It was like, I need to make this work. I have to make this work. Because no one else seems to have problems—so why is it just me? It felt incredibly unfair.

My mom never talked to me about reproductive issues, ever. So it just wasn’t something we openly discussed. I think they’re better about it now. But back then, when I was younger and starting my family, it just wasn’t something you talked about. 

And because of that, anytime I gained a little weight—or we were even thinking about making an announcement—people would start touching my stomach and go, “Oh my God, you’re pregnant.” That was... not the funnest experience.

Later, when our kids from Korea came home and we learned about attachment styles and how to become the primary caregiver, the hard part was navigating how our families would interact with them. I was nervous. Would they love them just as much as we did? Because they were adopted?

But honestly, once everyone knew, they were just extremely excited. There were a few questions, mostly because they didn’t understand the process. But overall, they were just excited to have babies in the house.

Still, my husband and I had to set boundaries—especially in those early days. We had to be the ones doing most of the caregiving, to make sure the kids bonded with us as their parents, not the grandparents. That might’ve rubbed some people the wrong way.

When you and your husband first started discussing family plans, did you both have the same vision for how many children you wanted?

I did. I was shooting for five—I wanted five. My husband wanted two. So we compromised and went with three.

But after the twins came, it was definitely a, “Well, looks like I got closer to my number than yours.” 

IVF and the Journey to Surrogacy

How many IVF cycles did you go through, and what was that experience like for you physically and emotionally?

Essentially, I did it twice.

What I did more of were the egg retrievals—and that part was hard. You go under anesthesia, it’s like a quick nap, but for me, I would constantly wake up from those procedures with maybe one or even zero eggs. That was the hardest part.

We did one full IVF cycle, and then we did IVF a second time with a new doctor. 

Can you walk us through the embryo transfers leading up to your surrogacy journey, and what made the experience at your second clinic feel different from the first?

Yeah, that was our last embryo.

Before that, we had two. I tried transferring one—it was a girl—but she didn’t stick. I was almost sure it had worked, so I was really bummed out.

Surrogacy can feel like an unfamiliar or even intimidating option for many families. What led you to ultimately choose surrogacy for your third child, and how did that experience unfold?

Yeah, the third baby. You and I had talked about it at some point—but to be honest, surrogacy wasn’t even on my radar. I was in denial. I thought, There’s no way I’m going to get to that part. My plan was to adopt, and then get pregnant. So in my head, surrogacy was completely off the table.

But we had our last embryo frozen, and once our daughter had settled in, we started debating—do we pursue another adoption, or do we try the embryo? We were scared about what would happen to it if we didn’t use it. Later we thought, Thank God we didn’t go for another adoption first, or we’d have way more kids than planned.

So I went back to my fertility doctor—she’s honestly the best in the Bay Area—and she brought up surrogacy. She strongly suggested it. I was shocked. I thought we were going to transfer the embryo to me. But she said, “Given your history, I’ll support you either way, but your best bet is surrogacy.”

Then she asked, What’s more important—experiencing pregnancy, or bringing home a healthy baby? That really hit me.

I realized I’d been more attached to the idea of pregnancy than actually needing it. I’d already adopted. I knew what it felt like to have someone else carry your child and still bond deeply when they came home. So it became an easy yes.

But yeah—surrogacy is a ride. A very expensive one. There was a lot to learn: contracts, seasoned surrogates vs. first-timers, reading all the profiles. We didn’t know how much we didn’t know.

It was tough at first. We were holding our breath: Are we pregnant yet? But once we got through that, it was so meaningful to build a relationship with our surrogate. In our adoptions from Korea, you don’t really get that—maybe an email or a picture. But there’s no conversation. With our surrogate, we texted all the time.

At one point I wondered, Should I be doing more? Like sending her gifts or having her hold the phone to her belly. But because we’d already been through adoption, we knew how to bond once the babies came home. That part didn’t worry us.

So yeah, I let that go. I reminded myself: They’ll be fine once they’re here. I just wanted her to be comfortable and have a healthy pregnancy—especially since it was twins. She was constantly at the doctor’s and such a good sport about it. Definitely not what we expected when we transferred one embryo... and ended up with twins.

Parenting and the Transition Between Children

How did you navigate IVF treatments and the second adoption while caring for your young son—and how did you help him understand the transition?

Yeah, he was very young then—maybe three or four. So he didn’t really grasp what was happening. 

When we went to Korea, we started explaining things to help with the transition: We’re going on a plane to pick up your sister. He’d smile and seem okay. But when we actually got there, it was like, Who is this person? 

He started fighting for attention—typical sibling stuff. And at that age, he didn’t understand the pregnancy or IVF side, so there weren’t a lot of questions.

But doing IVF with him around—that was rough. I was a stay-at-home mom at the time, and I thought, Well, I have the time. I can do this. But I didn’t realize how hard it would be with a demanding toddler.

You’re trying to minimize movement, take all these medications... hormones, bruises from the fertility shots, fatigue... It physically weighed on me, and I couldn’t show up as my best for him. I was probably short with him or not playing as much.

That’s why we took a break. I felt like, I’ve done enough, and I needed to just focus on him. He was in those prime years—and he was still an only child. We thought it through and realized: We need to pay more attention to how he’s processing all this. That shift into our second adoption felt like the right move at the right time.

What felt most different for you between your adoption journeys and your experience with surrogacy?

The biggest difference was that when we adopted, we were also first-time parents. That felt very different. We didn’t have a newborn, and we didn’t go through that phase firsthand.

Also, adoption was something we openly wanted. We chose it. Surrogacy felt more suggested—something we resisted a little at first.

But with surrogacy, we had way more control. We got to choose the surrogate, read profiles, and have a say. That’s not how it works in adoption. There, you submit your info and they match you. You don’t get to pick. You don’t have control.

And that’s a huge difference. It just brings a different kind of anxiety. It’s a completely different process.

What has it been like parenting four children—two through adoption and two through surrogacy—and how do you approach the unique conversations that come with each of their stories?

Part of why I do what I do now is to show that all families are different and unique—and that’s okay. We’re a family. They’re my kids. I’m their mom. It doesn’t feel different to me.

The only difference is in the back of my mind—when they go through something, or ask a question—I start overthinking: Is this related to their adoption? Why are they questioning things?

The twins, from the surrogacy, don’t ask much yet. So for now, we’re focused on keeping Korean culture deeply rooted in our family. We want them to feel like it’s part of them—that we respect and celebrate it.

We try to be open in talking about everything. Lately, we’ve been getting some weird questions, and we’re figuring out how to answer those. Sometimes you want to say so much—but then you realize, Wait, what are they really asking at this age?

Every parent probably feels like, Oh my God, I’m going to mess up my kid—they’ll end up in therapy someday. That’s probably universal now. But for us as adoptive parents, it just feels more heightened because of the trauma.

It’s really about how they’re internalizing things, and how I can support them. That’s the part that hits me hardest—knowing I can’t fix everything. All I can really do is be present, answer their questions, and help them feel seen and loved.

That’s probably the biggest difference in raising four kids with such different beginnings... and of course, just keeping up with daily life as a mom of four.

Career, Coaching and Support for Others

How did your time at Facebook impact your family-building journey—and what ultimately led you to step away from that role?

I started working at Facebook about six years ago, and I’ve been out for two now. Honestly, working there played a huge role in making surrogacy and adoption possible for us. They offered reimbursements and a lot of great benefits that really helped us financially. I’m 100% grateful for that—our story might have looked very different if I hadn’t had that kind of support.

But toward the end, he signs of burnout were all there, so I made the decision to leave.

Can you share a memorable success story from your coaching work—one that really captures the kind of transformation you help people move through?

One of my clients and I met in a surrogacy group. She had just lost her last embryo—that’s when we started working together.

She and her partner were older and really at a crossroads. We began by talking things through—ways to process the grief, the fear, the resistance. I reminded her: it’s going to be different, not perfect, but she’s stronger than she thinks. Infertility teaches you that.

Eventually, she shifted focus to herself. She looked for work, earned certifications she had put off—and one day said, “Rachel, I’m actually having fun.” She was laughing again with her husband, going out with friends. A weight had lifted.

Getting her through the grief wasn’t easy, but she told me: “I wouldn’t be experiencing this joy now if I hadn’t gone through that.” She’s even scared to try another route because she doesn’t want to lose that lightness—and I get that.

Who do you feel is the right fit for your coaching or podcast—who are you really hoping to reach and support?

It’s anyone who feels like, I’ve done everything, but nothing’s working. I feel done—but I can’t be done.

They’re usually pushing through because they think they have to—but they’re burned out. So we look at the deeper questions: Why are you doing this? What expectations are you trying to meet?

It’s not just IVF. It could be adoption, surrogacy, foster-to-adopt—or how infertility has impacted your relationship or career. Some clients feel disconnected from their partner, or like their life is on hold. So we figure out: What will help you feel better first? Then we build a plan.

I often work with women who feel like they’re “skipping steps.” They think, Once I have the baby, everything else will fall into place. But they’re exhausted. They’ve tried everything—acupuncture, herbs, all of it—and feel like they’ve lost themselves.

The ones I connect with most are ready for a change—and can still laugh through it. Those are the ones who bounce back quickest. They start realizing, Yeah, I can actually do this.

Reflection and Advice

Looking back now, what would you tell your younger self at the very beginning of your family-building journey?

Yeah. I would tell her to just chill out.

I was 25. And now I’m 40—so looking back, that feels so young to be dealing with something like infertility. I really felt that at the time. I remember thinking, Why the heck am I going through this? It just felt unacceptable, and I was determined to push through no matter what.

But if I could go back, I’d tell her: Stop comparing yourself. That was the hardest part. I let other people’s comments get to me—like I was doing something wrong, and that’s why I couldn’t get pregnant.

I’d say, Stand on business. Be more vocal. Be confident. Own your journey from the start and do what you need to do.

Because now? I’m living almost exactly what I had envisioned—just with a few small tweaks. And those are the parts that make our story even more special.

Conclusion

If you’re considering a similar path and want legal support that understands just how personal these journeys can be, Tsong Law Group is here to help you move forward with clarity and care.