Campaign Story

“When I grow up, I want to be a mom.” I still have the school paper I drew when I was in third or fourth grade. My teacher asked the class what we wanted to be when we grew up, and I didn’t have to think-I just drew. A mom, surrounded by her husband and her babies. My dream, for as long as I can remember.

As a little girl, my favorite game to play was house. I played with my dolls, Rebecca, Jane, Samantha and Sara. Of course, I was always the Mama! As the second oldest of six, I grew up surrounded by babies. I started caring for my little sister when I was 7 years old, getting up with her to feed her bottles, changing diapers, then feeding baby food and giving her baths. Nothing made me happier than taking care of my baby sisters and playing with them!

At 14 years old, I was rushed to the hospital for emergency surgery when my legs no longer moved to walk. My appendix had burst, and I had developed sepsis. I woke up in a fog, having life saving antibiotics pumped through me every hour.

During my surgery, which ended up being several hours longer than planned, the doctors had discovered something while they had the cameras inside-I didn’t have a uterus. They called another surgeon in to investigate. They told my mom, but due to how sick I was, they decided to wait a few days to tell me, when I was more stable.

An important meeting to break the news to me was planned, with my mom, the surgeon and counselor. My Mama went downstairs to grab coffee. For some reason, a social worker (of all people) made her way into my hospital room and blurted out, “you’re the one who can’t have kids.” Then she left, like nothing ever happened, going about her day. But my whole world had changed..

I still remember the utter heartbreak I felt lying in that hospital bed in the ICU. I was in shock. It felt like my vision was going away. With all the post surgery pain and weakness from the sepsis, it took me a while to reach the phone. I finally got close enough to grasp it, and called my mom in tears. “Mama, what does she mean I can’t have babies?”

My mom rushed to my side and began consoling me. We soon had the meeting, and the doctor explained to me what they had discovered, and that I needed to have follow up testing once I was recovered to determine my diagnosis.

Testing determined I had MRKH Type 2. I was born without my uterus and missing a kidney. I didn’t understand much about it at the time. All I knew was I couldn’t have babies. I pushed that grief deep inside and carried it around with me for years. Stuffed in a bin in my closet , along with my diagnosis paperwork, I still have the apology letter the hospital sent to my mom after she filed a formal complaint.

My love for babies has stayed with me my entire life. I have 7 amazing nieces and nephews, plus 3 more on my husband’s side, who brighten my life and fill it with joy. One of my favorite things to do on earth is visit them, take them out for “special days” and spend time with them.

When I turned 18, I got my first job at an infant program in a childcare center. I started as a teachers assistant, then became a teacher, and eventually, a team lead. This flourished into my career, and I am now a postpartum doula, providing newborn and family care from baby’s first day of life on. I absolutely love what I do. I believe empathy, kindness and nurturing care is the light we all need to get through our nights and days.

Snuggling the babies fills me with joy. When I look down at their precious faces, and see their tiny fingers wrapped around mine, my heart feels like it will burst with love. And it reminds me of the day I will get to hold my own precious little baby.

Four years ago, I was absolutely swept off my feet by the love of my life. The sweetest, most gentle, kind and loving soul, who I now call my husband, Oscar. We were married in November of last year. We celebrated our love with our beautiful family and friends, went on the most epic honeymoon, then began planning for our dream. We began paying off our wedding, my medical debt and building our credit up. Thanks to credit card points, we’ve been able to travel to some amazing places in the past year. Those trips were breathtaking , and I’m so grateful we were able to go. They gave me hope that we will be able to bring our own babies to see these beautiful places one day too.

As soon as we got married, my biological instinct to be a mom kicked in-hard.
I became more sensitive and aware of my feelings. I began to feel sad when I would see someone pregnant in public, or feel like I didn’t fit in when I saw everyone around me as a mom. I spent my free time researching as much as I possibly could to figure out how I could become one too.

I looked into adoption, surrogacy, and even a uterus transplant-they are now being offered outside of clinical trials, but they cost $300,000, and I don’t qualify since I am missing a kidney-the transplant meds are too hard on your kidneys, and I also have a blood circulation disorder that could cause the transplant to fail.

With adoption, we would need to upgrade our apartment to have a spare bedroom or two and pay throusands of dollars just to get on the list. And we could sit on that list for years and years, waiting, as there are multitudes more parents looking to adopt a baby then there are babies put up for adoption. We still want to adopt one day, but we want to try whatever has the best chance of bringing us a baby home first.

I recently had fertility testing done, and found out I now have a prematurely low ovarian reserve. Much lower than it should be at my age. This means I have a limited amount of time to do IVF and have egg retrievals done before I run out of eggs to have a biological baby.

I took a couple weeks to process before sharing this publicly. I was so scared, sad, and was crying every day. (I’m still crying every day).

We need to do IVF as soon as possible to retrieve eggs from my ovaries. If successful, the eggs will be fertilized and given a chance to mature. If that works, they must be tested to determine if they are normal, healthy, embryos or not.
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Since I was born without a uterus, I am unable to carry the pregnancy myself. If we can create healthy embryos, we have a chance to have a baby through surrogacy. Through surrogacy, a gestational carrier can carry our baby as they grow, until they are born and able to come home with us.

Both IVF and surrogacy are extremely expensive and complicated. Having a low ovarian reserve means I will likely need multiple cycles of IVF to create healthy embryos. Then, each time they attempt to transfer an embryo into our surrogate mother’s uterus, there’s a chance it may not stick, resulting in the need for another transfer. And the chances of embryos being healthy goes down with age.

MRKH syndrome further complicates this, as my ovaries float around and are very hard to find on scans. This means the egg retrieval procedure is going to be much more difficult than it typically would be, and I may have to get a full on surgery each time I do an IVF cycle.

Through all our consultations with fertility clinics, we discovered that’s it’s not going to work out to do it here in the USA. Each IVF cycle would cost us about $30,000. And with surrogacy, we are looking at close to at least $250,000 or so. The clinics here have multiple doctors following your case. And most of them don’t have any idea about MRKH, or experience doing the type of egg retrieval I need, which means chances of success are lower.

We found the most amazing clinic in Tbilisi, Georgia, in Eastern Europe. The first thing the doctor said to me on our video chat was, “I want you to know I have extensive experience doing IVF on MRKH patients, and most of them are now mothers to their own genetic babies.” After years of being the odd one out, who doctors had never even heard of my condition, this gave me the hope I have been searching for. For in this doctor’s hands, with her knowledge and compassion, my dream of becoming a mom may actually be possible.

This clinic and hospital has everything under one roof. The IVF procedures, egg retrieval, embryo transfer and baby’s birth. All handled by the same doctor and her team. I’ve talked to parents from all over the world that have gone there, including many parents from the US, and even a mom with MRKH syndrome just like me.

We have an opportunity to travel to Georgia and do two back to back IVF cycles this coming March, 2026, to have a chance at having a baby. The procedures cost much less than the US, but are still very expensive. We need to come up with about $30,000 to pull off the first portion-IVF, and about $100,000 with the surrogacy. We would have the chance to return there for a second sibling journey a bit later in life. I long to eventually bring two babies home, to fill our home with laughter and love. But I will be more than happy for just one.

I’ve spent my whole life caring for babies, and I have so much love waiting to give one of my own. In my closet, I have my purple floral dress from when I was little, saved for our daughter to wear if we are blessed with a girl. A knit cap and a photo of baby me wearing it, while my mom is smiling, holding me-a photo I hope to recreate with my own little baby one day. A Star Wars onesie, brand new, waiting to be worn by an aspiring Jedi, aka our precious baby. My baby blanket, waiting to snuggle our baby so cozy as they drift off to sleep in my arms.

I have never wanted anything more than to be a Mama. I’ve spent my life wishing on stars, blowing out my birthday candles, and praying to God, for the gift of a baby to call my own.

The fertility specialists have advised us that we need to start IVF immediately.
Every day feels like I’m walking on eggshells, not knowing what’s happening inside my body, what it is or is not capable of, or what heartbreak may come along the way. I’m terrified of doing IVF and it failing, or if it’s successful, doing surrogacy and it failing. I can’t imagine how devastating that would feel, but I’m even more terrified of not being able to be a mom.

Oscar and I are doing everything we can to give us the best chance of success for IVF. Following a Mediterranean diet, exercising , taking vitamins and supplements. Reading, researching and working hard. Holding onto each other, our faith and our dream, with lots of prayers and a whole lot of hope. The idea of running out of eggs before we can afford to retrieve them feels devastating. And with the situation we are currently facing, we can’t do this without help.

We would be truly grateful, from the bottom of our hearts, for any donations to help us have a chance to have a family. If you can share our fundraiser, and pray for us, it would mean the world.

“Fertility struggles don’t mean you’re not meant to have children. It means your children will have the most grateful parents ever.”