Cover From IVF to fertility preservation, changing family timelines are reshaping care in Asia. Manila’s new fertility hub reflects a wider cultural reckoning (Photo: Canva)
From IVF to fertility preservation, changing family timelines are reshaping care in Asia. Manila’s new fertility hub reflects a wider cultural reckoning (Photo: Canva)
1 / 1
With fewer than 10 fertility clinics nationwide, Filipinos long looked abroad. A new globally connected hub reflects a larger reckoning around access, autonomy and care, seen through the lens of its CEO
For decades, fertility care in the Philippines existed on the margins. It is limited in number, uneven in access and often treated as a last resort rather than a legitimate part of long-term health planning. For many Filipinos who could afford it, the solution was simple but costly: fly elsewhere—Bangkok, Singapore, the United States. Manila, despite its population of more than 115 million, was rarely the destination.
That reality is what GenPrime’s founding CEO, Margaret Wang, kept returning to as the fertility network prepared to open its Manila clinic. “Historically, there have been fewer than 10 fertility clinics in the whole country,” she said. “I’ve visited about half of them myself.” The gap, she noted, was not just medical but systemic, emotional and logistical.
Read more: Is the Philippines a new go-to destination for In Vitro Fertilisation in Southeast Asia?
Above GenPrime CEO Margaret Wang (Photo: courtesy of GenPrime)
GenPrime CEO Margaret Wang (Photo: courtesy of GenPrime)
1 / 1
GenPrime’s arrival in Manila is not framed as disruption, but as response. A response to years of outbound medical travel, to fragmented care, to the subtle anxiety of individuals and couples navigating fertility without a clear entry point. “For many, the path to starting a family has not been simple,” Wang says. “It’s not only emotional—there’s grief, anxiety, stress, pressure.”
Founded as a global fertility network, GenPrime operates across five markets: Singapore, Bangkok, Kuala Lumpur, Los Angeles and now, Manila. What binds these clinics together is not branding uniformity, but shared standards and infrastructure. “A lot of the same standards we brought into the other locations, we’ve brought here,” Wang explains. “Number one is global standards and standardisation across markets. Number two is integrating some of our own technologies.”
That integration includes proprietary tools developed through GenPrime’s acquisitions of an AI company and a mental health company—technologies that, Wang said, are designed to sit in the background of care. “We bring that into the hands of our clinicians and patients, who then give us product feedback so we can continue to improve,” she says. The emphasis, she stressed, is not on overwhelming patients with data, but on giving doctors “another perspective as they guide patients through key steps of treatment.”
Still, the decision to open in Manila, particularly in the Parqal Mall in Parañaque City, was as much about geography as it was about philosophy. The clinic is located near the airport, a deliberate choice that reflects GenPrime’s understanding of patient mobility. “We do expect not only a strong domestic patient base, but also overseas Filipinos coming back and wanting to seek treatment here,” Wang says. Across the network, she noted, patient demographics tend to split evenly between local and international—an indicator of how fertility care now moves across borders.
Read more: How to finance your fertility care journey
Yet GenPrime’s Manila clinic was never meant to feel transient. Its interiors—designed by Filipino architect JJ Acuña in collaboration with an IBM architect based in New York—borrow more from hospitality than hospital design. “He’s known for hotels and restaurants,” Wang said of Acuña, “really with an in-hospitality touch.” The aim was to soften what is often an intimidating environment without compromising clinical rigour. “Not just style, but substance,” she added. “The embryology lab, the operating theatre—those spaces are built with the highest international standards.”
The result is a clinic where consultation rooms, operating theatre, embryology lab, recovery suites and cryostorage sit under one roof. This end-to-end model addresses a practical frustration long familiar to patients. “You would have to hop in different places—one centre for blood work, another for consults,” Wang says. “Here, it’s all in one place.” Even the embryology lab is partially visible. A switchable glass window allows privacy for specialists while offering patients a rare chance to understand what happens behind the scenes. “We wanted patients to really learn that part of the process,” Wang said. “It’s just as important as the work our doctors do.”
Clinically, GenPrime Manila is anchored by Filipino specialists whose careers reflect both depth and continuity. Medical director Dr Anthony Marc Ancheta trained at UP–Philippine General Hospital before specialising at Singapore’s National University Hospital, while Dr Marinella Abat—former president of the Philippine Society of Reproductive Medicine—brings decades of leadership in clinical governance. Together, they lead a team trained across institutions in the Philippines and Singapore, pairing international discipline with local empathy.
Technology, however, is where GenPrime’s global footprint becomes most tangible. Through its in-house innovation arm, Rhea Labs, the network integrates tools that give clinicians a more holistic fertility picture. One of these, developed by Embryonics, uses AI to support embryo assessment—not to replace judgment, but to add perspective. “The goal is clarity,” Wang says, “without overwhelming patients.”
Wang does not speak about fertility from a distance. Long before GenPrime opened its Manila clinic, she was a patient herself—navigating egg freezing in New York at a moment when the future she had planned abruptly shifted: an eight-year relationship had ended and a planned wedding never happened. Before that had happened, we had talked about freezing embryos,” she recalls. “We wanted children—just not yet.” On her doctor’s advice, she also froze her eggs. At the time, it felt precautionary. In hindsight, it became pivotal.
Read more: The facts behind egg freezing: what women need to know
The process—clinical, emotional and often isolating—left a lasting impression. “Each of these things has helped shape what the patient experience is today,” she says, recalling everything from self-administered injections to advice exchanged among friends. “Sometimes it’s the smallest things that make it less frightening.”
Those experiences also inform GenPrime’s stance on language and stigma. Wang is deliberate about rejecting terms long embedded in reproductive medicine. “We don’t use the term ‘geriatric’ in our clinic,” she says. “That’s not what a patient wants to hear.” Instead, the clinic frames fertility as a continuum. One that includes women, men and couples making decisions on their own timelines. “Modern women are more independent,” Wang notes. “It’s no longer just get married, have babies. It’s me first, career first.”
In that sense, GenPrime’s Manila opening reflects a broader cultural shift. Fertility care is no longer confined to crisis moments; it is increasingly about foresight, choice and agency. “If you want to build a family and don’t know where to start,” Wang says, “we want to just be there for you, whether you’re curious, assessing options or further down the line.”
Syrah is Tatler Philippines’ Power & Purpose editor, where she spotlights extraordinary journeys shaping the Philippines and Asia. She covers business, innovation, impact, and culture—chasing the people, ideas and forces shaping how we live and think today.
