Florissant couple paid thousands of dollars, now missing, for surrogate mother

The Florissant couple, after years of struggling to start a family, were finally on their way. The surrogate mother they found to carry their baby was pregnant. And they had deposited tens of thousands of dollars with a Houston company to protect the money that would be paid to him.

Then came the company note: “All operations have been suspended,” it read.

The Oyirifis called, but the phones were turned off. Social networks were closed. And the payments, the couple realized, were not being made.

They quickly discovered there could be hundreds of other families in the same situation.

Houston authorities have confirmed they are investigating the management of surrogacy escrow accounts, known as SEAM, after dozens of complaints.

“My phone hasn’t stopped ringing,” said Houston Police Officer William Wright, who received his first call from a SEAM client on June 16.

Houston Police Sgt. Chad Long, the supervisor of the department's financial crimes unit, said in an email Monday that more than 30 people had contacted them and that the FBI would lead the investigation “due to the size and vast territory of where the victims come from. “

Madeline Sieren, a spokeswoman for Missouri Attorney General Andrew Bailey's office, said she received three complaints about SEAM, which were under review. The Texas attorney general's office did not respond to questions about the number of complaints filed or whether it was investigating.

Dominique Side, owner of SEAM, could not be reached for comment.

SEAM customers are mobilizing, however: a Facebook group called SEAM Breach was created this month and has more than 750 members. They share ideas on how to file complaints, rewrite contracts and raise funds to replace their money.

For families like the Oyirifis, who were finally emerging from the physical and emotional turmoil of infertility, it was as if the ground were giving way again.

“Our journey is a saga,” said Ashley Oyirifi. “This was supposed to be our happy ending.”

Their baby, due in November, will return from the hospital with them. They know that.

Everything else is a question mark, including how much more they will now have to pay.

Gestational surrogacy, when a woman carries a baby to whom she has no biological connection, is a rare but growing path to parenthood. In 1999, according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, U.S. fertility clinics reported 727 embryo transfers to gestational carriers. Twenty years later, that number had reached nearly 10,000.

The global surrogacy market was valued at just under $15 billion last year and is expected to climb to nearly $100 billion by 2033, according to Spherical Insights, a market research firm.

The surrogacy process is a maze of legal and medical hurdles, with regulations that vary by state. Intended parents find a surrogate mother, either through an agency or on their own. Lawyers are hired. Contracts are drawn up. Series of medical and psychological tests followed.

Costs can easily exceed $100,000. Almost always, the money that will be paid to the surrogate goes through an escrow company.

And SEAM is one of the few “third-party reproduction” escrow companies in the United States. It attracts customers from all over the country and abroad.

Escrow guarantees that before an embryo is implanted, the future parents have their financing. The company interprets the contract by paying an agreed-upon monthly fee, as well as reimbursements for medical expenses and other incidental costs, such as maternity clothing.

“It’s meant to protect both parties,” said Joanna Beck Wilkinson, a St. Louis attorney who specializes in family formation.

Beck Wilkinson has several clients across the country with money tied up in SEAM. It is their responsibility to make payments if SEAM is insolvent, she said.

No one knows how many people are affected or when a resolution will be reached. Posts from the Facebook group suggest the total amount held by the depository company could be in the millions, Beck Wilkinson said.

“We have very little verifiable information,” she said.

Surrogacy is almost never a plan A. The decision to turn to a gestational carrier often comes after years of heartbreak: failed fertility treatments, miscarriages, stillbirths.

Arielle Mitton of Bellingham, Washington, had undergone almost every type of medical procedure. Her uterus is filled with scar tissue.

She and her husband decided to try surrogacy, but it posed its own challenges. Finding the right connection is a lot like online dating.

At one point, “I was kind of ready to give up,” Mitton said.

In November, however, the couple Zoomed with a woman in Rosedale, Indiana. Right away, they knew it would work. They signed a contract in March and the Mittons deposited about $50,000 into their SEAM account.

Their surrogate, Tena Doan, has four children of her own, but always thought about carrying a baby for someone else. On April 8, the Mittons' embryo was implanted.

The first trimester was difficult for Doan, whose morning sickness continued into the night. She had to take multiple injections of estrogen and progesterone each day.

“You give up a lot to do this,” said Doan, a server at Outback Steakhouse. She had reserved her fees for renovation work on her house.

Yet she didn't really pay attention when SEAM missed a payment on June 1. But when the emails were sent and word spread among other account holders, the seriousness of the situation became clear.

Doan and the Mittons will likely have to agree to a new contract, perhaps for smaller payments over a longer period of time. The Mittons took out a loan to pay for SEAM; like others, they created a GoFundMe to help.

Doan will have to stop working after she gives birth to the baby, due on Christmas Eve, and she is no longer sure if she will have a financial cushion to cover that. She takes overtime at the restaurant when she can.

Mitton doesn't want Doan to stress. Doan doesn't want Mitton to worry. They are in the same boat.

“It’s heartbreaking,” Doan said. “Someone practically stole from us.”

Florissant natives Ashley and Kwasi Oyirifi met while students at the University of Missouri-Columbia. They knew they wanted to have a family with biological and adopted children.

After trying to get pregnant for a year and a half, the couple resorted to in vitro fertilization. The first embryo transfer was successful and they decided to move from central Illinois to St. Louis to be closer to their parents.

Just before the move, 19 weeks pregnant, Ashley Oyirifi gave birth to a daughter, Averi. She didn't survive.

Four other embryo transfers did not take place. So, at the end of 2022, the Oyirifis looked into surrogacy.

“I spent hours and hours learning about it,” Ashley Oyirifi said.

They found their first potential surrogate through a Facebook group called Surrogates and IPs Match, but she eventually backed out.

Late last summer, around the same time they welcomed a 5-month-old foster child into their home, they met a woman from Wisconsin who told them she would carry their baby. The surrogate planned to use the money she earned to pay off her student loans.

Finally, the pieces were falling into place, the Oyirifis thought.

They raised $65,000 and sent it to SEAM in January.

“We’re just middle-class people,” Ashley Oyirifi said. “It was a major sacrifice for us.”

In February, an embryo was successfully transferred to their surrogate mother.

The Oyirifis expired. Their adopted baby was also on his way to becoming a permanent member of the family. Its adoption should be finalized in early fall.

Then, a few weeks ago, the hammer fell. They had nearly $50,000 left in the SEAM account when they received the email.

They managed to raise their surrogate payment for this month, but they still have six more to come.

“We'll feel this way for a few years,” Ashley Oyirifi said.

She wants things to return to normal, to focus on their to-do list, like all future parents: narrowing down a list of names, decorating the baby's room, stocking up on diapers.

“I love the feeling of being a mom,” she said. “I don’t want that to be the scenario when we think about the arrival of our son or daughter.”