Campaign Story

Growing up, I never really imagined myself having children. I was raised by a strong single mother and learned early what survival looked like. I experienced a fierce motherly love, but also chaos and uncertainty. My biological father struggled with incarceration and addiction, leaving behind more questions than comfort for me. After living in that kind of environment, motherhood didn’t feel like a dream, but overwhelming, and something I never saw myself embracing. Eventually, my mom remarried, and I had a stepdad who brought a sense of stability we hadn’t known before. He couldn’t undo the past, however, I saw a first real glimpse of what stability and genuine support could look like in a family.

Despite my early uncertainty about motherhood, life’s journey has a way of testing our resilience in unexpected ways. When I finally opened my heart up to becoming a mother I was confronted with the heartbreaking challenge of an ectopic pregnancy. It ended in emergency treatment and left one of my fallopian tubes permanently scarred. This experience only deepened my uncertainty about whether motherhood was truly my path or even possible for me. With one healthy tube remaining, I clung to my faith that motherhood might still be within reach.

To my surprise we were blessed with our first child and everything I thought I knew about love, protection, and purpose changed. That little person cracked open a place in me I didn’t know existed. My journey as a mother provided me a place for healing, nurturing, and growth. It was almost instantly that I knew I wanted more children. I wanted my child to have siblings the way I had my two brothers. The three of us were a trio and my built in best friends. Despite all the pain in my early childhood, my bond with them had always been something steady, something good, and I wanted to pass that down.

When we tried for a second child, heartbreak struck again. Just three months after losing my middle brother in a tragic accident, I faced another ectopic pregnancy that led to emergency surgery. The weight of grief and physical trauma felt overwhelming, testing me once again. Now facing secondary infertility, a family friend reached out to us about the possibility of adoption. A new door of hope opened during a time when I felt lost and reminded me that love can grow in unexpected ways. We were blessed with a beautiful baby girl and in that moment I understood that love was what made us a family. She is mine in every way that matters.

It was years later that my first marriage would end, and I would eventually meet the man who is now my husband. He is a gentle, hardworking, sweet soul who didn’t just love me but embraced my children as his own, and I embraced his children as well. I had never dreamed of having more children, but when you find your person who’s your best friend, who supports and loves you exactly as you are, who shares your dreams and makes you wish you’d met them sooner, something shifts. Your vision of the future expands. We knew we wanted to build a life together, and part of that dream naturally grew to include expanding our family.

With my secondary infertility diagnosis, we began the difficult journey of IVF. Two embryo transfers ended in heartbreak and disappointment. At times, I found myself asking myself, shouldn’t the children we already have be enough? The emotional toll has been heavy, and the waiting feels endless.

Now, we find ourselves emotionally and financially exhausted. The costs of fertility treatments have added up quickly, and without outside support, continuing feels almost impossible. Our doctors remain hopeful and encouraging, believing there’s still a chance. We’re holding on to that hope and praying for the possibility of grants or assistance to help us take the next step.

This dream of growing our family isn’t just about having more children, but about the life I had always envisioned after healing from my early childhood, grief, and our shared losses. My husband and I long to create a home rooted in our faith that is filled with warmth, laughter, safety, and unconditional love. Wanting more children isn’t a sign of ungratefulness, it’s a testament to the hope that still lives in us. It is the belief that even after heartbreak, joy is still possible, and love can continue to grow.