At 18, her world split in two on a spring afternoon. She was a high school senior riding in a car when a crash broke her neck and injured her spinal cord at C6. Five months in a rehab hospital in Atlanta taught her how to live from a wheelchair, how to move, dress, and rebuild daily life one careful task at a time. She returned to Orlando to keep working on her strength, but the girl who once danced for seven years and loved bold adventures needed more than standard therapy.
She searched for tougher programs and found NextStep in Southern California, an activity-based recovery center. The trips there lit a new path. In 2009, she and her mom opened NextStep Orlando so people in the southeast could access the same training.
The center helped her regain stamina and trust in her body. About a year after it opened, she met Matthew. He was young like her, easygoing, and, most importantly, unshaken by her disability. He didn’t flinch at helping her into the car or cutting her food or the quiet, private parts of care. They moved in together a year later. Over time he became her full-time caregiver, but they were also two 21-year-olds in love, laughing and learning how to grow up together. After seven years of dating, they got engaged and married on May 11, 2019, on the beach at Daytona Shores, the waves and sky holding their vows. They planned to try for a baby the next spring.
She wanted to be a mother, but pregnancy worried her. Other quadriplegic moms had been honest: it’s possible and beautiful, and also hard. She faced low blood pressure, the need to manage her catheter and bowel program, trouble keeping weight on, and the risk of pressure sores if bed rest became necessary. She also spoke to a quadriplegic mom who used a gestational carrier, and the idea brought relief. The price tag did not. She had raised medical funds through Help Hope Live since the accident and asked if those funds could support surrogacy. When they said yes, the door opened.
Then the world closed. COVID arrived, and clinics paused. By May 2020, they were finally able to start, only to hit new walls. One clinic said they couldn’t safely put her under general anesthesia for an egg retrieval because of her spinal cord injury; the next clinic said the same. Doubt crept in. She met with a high-risk obstetrician to revisit carrying a pregnancy herself, but the doctor agreed surrogacy was the safer choice. A third clinic had access to a hospital for anesthesia. After repeated tests, time had passed and results had to be current, she began IVF in the summer of 2021. Sixteen eggs were retrieved; eight became viable embryos.
They chose an agency, Creative Love, and connected quickly with the owner, Wendy. Matches usually took months; theirs took about three weeks. The surrogate lived only half an hour away and was their age. They met her and her husband in August 2021 and felt an instant fit. Medical clearance, though, became the next hurdle. The surrogate had common issues that needed medication and time. After a couple of rounds and more precise testing, she was cleared early in 2022.
Their embryo transfer was set for March 14, the day after her birthday. The doctor showed them the photo: a grade A-A embryo, strong and beautiful. Because of COVID rules, they couldn’t watch the procedure in person, but the clinic recorded the screen on the surrogate’s phone. The four of them, intended parents and the surrogate couple, huddled over that small window as hope entered a new home. At-home tests later showed faint lines that didn’t darken. On March 25, the clinic confirmed there was no pregnancy.
She cried without stopping it; grief doesn’t ask permission. She had planned to celebrate good news at a colleague’s farewell and instead had to smile through the ache. The surrogate was heartbroken too and promised to keep trying until a baby filled their arms. Seven embryos remained. Seven chances.
The clinic ran more tests and adjusted treatment, and the process stretched again. Then came a good ultrasound. On June 8, 2022, the surrogate began another IVF cycle, with bloodwork to follow and a new transfer on the horizon. To help cover the added costs of medications, probiotics, and the many small things that add up, they organized a “Bays for Baby J” Topgolf fundraiser for July 16. Every dollar would go to her Help Hope Live account to support their surrogacy journey. It has been a long road: twelve years together, three years married, two years trying to become parents.
But she knows long roads. She learned how to push forward from a wheelchair, build a therapy center from an idea, and love and be loved through the quiet labor of caregiving and the loud joy of a beach wedding. The same grit that carried her through rehab is the grit she brings to starting a family. The story isn’t finished, but the people are strong, patient, and ready.
