Campaign Story

My name is Lillian Napoleone , and I am the proud mother of a beautiful, energetic four-year-old daughter named Eliani. She is the light of my life and the reason I continue to push forward, even in the face of unimaginable loss and hardship. My journey to parenthood has been filled with joy, trauma, and a renewed sense of purpose, and I am sharing it today with the hope that this grant can bring me one step closer to expanding the family I’ve always dreamed of.

Becoming a mother was always a deep desire of mine. When I became pregnant with Eliani, it felt like my life was finally beginning to bloom. She was born healthy and strong, and I was overjoyed to step into the role of motherhood. Like many mothers, I dreamed of giving her a sibling one day—a lifelong friend to grow up with, someone to laugh with, share secrets, and experience the world beside. Two years after Eliani was born, that dream felt within reach when I discovered I was pregnant again.

I still remember the feeling of excitement when I saw the positive test. It felt like everything was aligning. I scheduled my first prenatal appointment for what I believed would be a routine 12-week checkup. But instead of a joyful ultrasound and hearing the baby’s heartbeat, I was met with confusion and concern from my medical team. What was supposed to be one of the happiest milestones in a pregnancy turned into a nightmare I never imagined.

I was told the pregnancy was ectopic—not in the traditional sense, but a rare and extremely dangerous variation. The embryo had implanted in my old C-section scar and was growing into my bladder. It was a condition so uncommon that my doctors had to act immediately. I was rushed into emergency surgery in hopes of saving my life and removing the dangerous pregnancy.

The procedure was more complicated than anyone had anticipated. During surgery, I began to hemorrhage severely and required a blood transfusion. Despite the team’s best efforts, they were unable to save my reproductive organs. I lost my uterus, fallopian tubes, and cervix that day. Along with them, I lost the baby, the ability to ever carry another child, and a huge piece of my identity as a woman and a mother.

The physical recovery was long and painful, but the emotional healing has been even more complex. There are no words to fully describe the grief that follows such a traumatic loss—not just the loss of a child, but of the future I had envisioned. I had to come to terms with the fact that I would never again feel a baby growing inside of me. I would never experience another pregnancy or give birth again. It’s a kind of heartbreak that never fully goes away.

Still, I am not someone who gives up easily. I have always believed in the power of love, determination, and second chances. And while I can no longer carry a child myself, my dream of growing my family remains alive through the option of surrogacy. I want Eliani to have a sibling, and I want to open my heart and home to another child—a child that will be just as deeply loved and cherished as she is.

However, as many know, the path to parenthood through surrogacy is not an easy one, especially financially. The costs associated with the process—from medical expenses, legal fees, agency costs, and the compensation for the incredible women who become gestational carriers—are overwhelming for most families. Despite working hard and doing all I can to prepare, the burden remains heavy, and that is why I am applying for this grant.

Receiving this grant would not just help me financially—it would represent hope. It would mean that after all the loss and trauma I’ve endured, someone believes in my dream of becoming a mother again. It would mean that Eliani might get the chance to be a big sister, something she already talks about with such excitement and innocence. It would mean that I could move one step closer to healing my heart and completing my family in a way I never thought possible after my surgery.

I come from a place of strength and resilience, but I also understand the importance of asking for help when it’s needed. Applying for this grant is my way of doing just that—reaching out to a community of people who understand the weight of infertility, loss, and the fierce love that drives us to keep going. My journey has taught me that even in the darkest moments, there is light to be found. Sometimes that light comes in the form of a grant, a helping hand, or simply being seen and heard.

There are so many deserving families out there, and I am honored to be among them, sharing my story. I know that whatever the outcome, this process matters. It gives voice to those of us who have quietly endured the pain of reproductive trauma. It brings hope to people who may feel they have no options left. And it creates a community where we are not alone in our struggles or our dreams.

In closing, I want to thank you for taking the time to read my story. Thank you for considering me for this opportunity and for offering a chance to people like me who are longing for something that feels just out of reach. I may not have the ability to carry another child, but I still have the ability to be a mother. And with your help, that dream may become a reality again.

With deepest gratitude,
Lillian Napoleone