Our journey to grow our family began about four years ago, but the road wasn’t anything I could’ve imagined. Back in 2015, I was just 23 when my painful, debilitating periods turned into something far worse. After countless doctor visits, I was diagnosed with endometriosis and adenomyosis. The news hit me like a wall my uterus was dangerously thin, and my doctor warned it would be risky for me to carry another baby. The plan was to do a partial hysterectomy but keep my ovaries. I felt my world collapse in that moment.
My husband held my hand and told me we’d find another way to grow our family. “Your health comes first,” he said, and he meant it. We looked into adoption, but the costs were nearly the same as IVF. We decided to try IVF, even though we didn’t know how we’d afford it. We both came from single-mother homes and never had much, but we believed we could make it work with faith, hard work, and help from our community.
In 2016, I started my own daycare business. That’s when I met my best friend, Qrishana Peña. One day, while sharing our life stories, I opened up about my infertility. Without hesitation, she said, “I’ll carry your baby.” I was stunned. She already had two little girls and had just met me I couldn’t believe she was serious. But she was. Even after I tested her words a hundred times, she never backed down.
Together, we went to clinic after clinic, facing disappointment after disappointment. Every place treated us like numbers, not people. They only cared about money, not the dream we were trying to make real. I was angry, heartbroken, and ready to give up. Then, one day, scrolling through Facebook, I found a fertility clinic in New York that offered payment plans and focused on helping families like ours. I expected the reviews to be fake, but they were all positive. For the first time in years, I felt hope.
We decided 2018 would be our year. I started working two and sometimes three jobs. My husband moved to Wyoming for better pay. We saved every penny. The process was intense medicine, shots, travel all while raising our daughter, Aaliyah, in Nebraska. Emotionally, it was even harder. People said cruel things: “You can’t afford it.” “Be happy with the child you have.” “It’s not worth it.” Their doubt hurt, but we kept going quietly, telling only our closest family.
When it came time to retrieve my eggs, everything almost fell apart. My husband couldn’t leave work without losing his job, so my sister flew with me to New York. Against all odds, they retrieved 47 eggs a miracle number. My husband mailed his sample, and everything worked perfectly. Even when Qrishana moved to Texas, she stayed committed.
When the transfer day came, we explained to Aaliyah that her “Aunty Qrishana” would be carrying the new baby. She smiled and understood in a way only a child can. Then came the hardest part waiting two weeks for results. When Qrishana sent me the photo of the positive test, I broke down. After everything, we were finally going to have our baby.
The pregnancy wasn’t easy. Qrishana had complications and ended up needing a C-section during the height of COVID. Only she and I were allowed in the hospital. When I finally held our daughter, Zyairah, for the first time, every tear, every sleepless night, every doubt it was all worth it.
Because Nebraska doesn’t recognize surrogacy, I had to legally adopt my own biological daughter. Six months later, in February 2021, I stood in court as the judge made it official I was finally listed as Zyairah’s mother. That moment closed our four-year journey.
Now, when I look at my two daughters, I see proof that faith and love move mountains. I was told I couldn’t have children yet here I am, blessed twice over. This journey showed me that nothing is impossible. When life asks, “How bad do you want it?” my answer will always be, “Bad enough to never give up.”
