From when she was little, Pauline carried an odd fear in her chest, the quiet belief that she might never have children. While other kids dreamed of ponies or fairy-tale weddings, she fixated on Dumbo’s mother, the lonely elephant waiting for a baby that never came. It seemed strange then, almost poetic later, that her own life would mirror that story of waiting, heartbreak, and eventual joy through surrogacy.
Pauline met her husband, Maas, in college back in the Netherlands. They were young and full of plans, chasing careers and travel rather than parenthood. For years, they were content, just the two of them, living in Amsterdam and loving their freedom. But life, as it often does, shifted without warning. When her father fell ill, Pauline flew home from the United States, where she and Maas had relocated for his job in aviation. She cared for her father until the end, and after his passing, something inside her changed. The desire to build a family grew louder, filling the quiet spaces grief had left behind.
When months of trying turned into nothing but disappointment, Pauline’s old fear came creeping back. Endometriosis, the diagnosis she’d carried since youth, became more than a medical note; it was the barrier between her and motherhood. The first rounds of IUI brought only pain and blood, and tears. Each failed test felt like another betrayal by her own body. When the doctor suggested IVF, Pauline accepted, but deep down, she trembled. IVF was the big guns, the final hope, the last card to play in the fight against infertility.
Back home in the Netherlands, she braved hormone injections, scans, and the agonizing egg retrieval without anesthesia. She told herself it would all be worth it, that every pinch and every tear would bring her closer to a child. But the first embryo didn’t take. The red streak on the paper told her so before the phone ever rang. She tried again, and again, each time layering courage over exhaustion. When she finally did get pregnant, the joy was short-lived. The chemical pregnancy ended before it truly began.
Infertility has a way of stealing not just babies but pieces of hope. Still, Pauline kept moving, studying health and fertility coaching to reclaim her strength. She learned to feed her body better, quiet her mind, and honor the process even when it felt unfair. Her next frozen embryo transfer seemed promising. This time she saw a heartbeat, a tiny flicker that made every hardship worth it. But at ten weeks, it stopped. Another loss, another reason to question her body, her luck, her purpose.
Then came the medical emergency that nearly ended everything. Heavy bleeding, a rush to the ER, and the grim realization that her womb had turned against her. The condition was rare, dangerous, and nearly fatal. She survived, barely, but the doctors told her pregnancy was no longer an option. The dream of carrying her own child ended that day, replaced by a different kind of hope.
Surrogacy entered their lives not as a desperate last choice but as a bridge back to joy. In Atlanta, Pauline and Maas found an agency and, eventually, a woman willing to carry their child. It felt right, like the universe offered them another path after years of closed doors. Pauline underwent one final IVF cycle, and this time the embryos were strong. When their surrogate’s pregnancy test came back positive, it felt almost unreal.
Even then, fear lingered. Pauline knew too well how fragile hope could be. She lit candles daily, prayed quietly, and held onto faith as their surrogate’s belly grew. Life, however, wasn’t finished surprising her. During that same time, she discovered she was pregnant herself, a dangerous and impossible situation that turned out to be ectopic. Surgery followed, leaving new scars both inside and out. She survived again, grateful yet weary.
Months later, when their daughter was finally born through surrogacy, Pauline held her for the first time and felt the years of pain dissolve into something softer. The scars, the hormones, the hospital rooms, all became background noise to that single heartbeat now resting against her chest. Infertility had nearly broken her, IVF had tested every ounce of her patience, and surrogacy had ultimately healed what was once shattered. Pauline’s story was no longer about loss but persistence, love, and the strange, miraculous ways motherhood finds those who refuse to give up.
