- At 18 years old Melissa Jackson, 30, from Glenelg Valley, NSW, was diagnosed with Mayer-Rokitansky-Küster-Hauser syndrome – a rare condition that meant she was born without a uterus.
- Despite failed hopes of a uterus transplant, exhausting IVF treatment and two heartbreaking miscarriages, Melissa and her husband refused to give up on becoming parents.
- A compassionate surrogate she met through Facebook carried their son, Harvey, giving the couple the family they’d dreamed of.
Here Melissa tells her story in her own words
Growing up, I always assumed I’d become a mum one day.
But when I was 14, while my friends started getting their periods, mine never came.
Instead, every month I’d be doubled over with pain and bloating.
‘She’s just a late bloomer,’ doctor after doctor assured my mum, Krista, and me. ‘Come back next year.’
Each time I endured blood tests, examinations and ultrasounds.
‘Your uterus is just retroverted,’ one doctor said, explaining that it was difficult to see.
Then, when I was 18, halfway through a specialist 3D ultrasound, the sonographer suddenly stopped.
‘Have you had a hysterectomy?’ he asked.
‘No, of course not,’ I replied, stunned.
Within minutes, staff members were gathered around the screen.
That’s how I learned I’d been born without a womb – a condition called Mayer-Rokitansky-Küster-Hauser syndrome (MRKH).
Although I had healthy ovaries and could produce eggs, I’d never be able to carry a baby.
My whole future crumbled.
‘Who’s ever going to want someone who can’t have children?’ I sobbed.
READ MORE: ‘Surrogacy joy: My mum had my baby!’
Friends couldn’t understand what I was going through and, one by one, many drifted away.
Then, in 2017, aged 22, I met Harry, 26, online.
An Army aircraft engineer working on Black Hawk helicopters, he had kind eyes and an easy smile.
When one day a few weeks later he told me he wanted children, I knew I had to tell him the truth.
‘I can’t have children,’ I said. ‘I don’t have a womb.’
After a long silence, he reached for my hand.
‘I love you more than your ability to give me children,’ he said. ‘If I had to choose between you or children, I’d choose you every time.’
For the first time, I believed my future might still hold happiness.
A year later, Harry proposed. While planning our September 2020 wedding, we heard about Australia’s first uterus transplant trial at Royal Prince Alfred Hospital in Sydney, NSW.
‘I’ll donate my uterus,’ Mum, then 64, offered.
She’d carried five children and hoped it could help me have one.
I was overwhelmed by her generosity.
After months of tests, scans and counselling, we were told we were ideal candidates.
READ MORE: ‘A virgin at 34, I chose IVF: ‘My daughter is my soulmate’’
Then Covid struck. The trial was cancelled and, by the time it resumed, Mum was over the donor age limit. Once again, our dream slipped away.
After moving to Adelaide in 2021, Harry and I decided to create embryos through IVF, in the hope we’d one day find a surrogate.
By September, we had just one frozen embryo, but the emotional and financial toll was enormous.
In November 2022 we applied to become foster carers.
We met every requirement except, because we’d recently undergone IVF, we were told we’d have to wait another two years.
Driving home, I broke down. ‘We’re never going to be parents,’ I cried.
‘Of course we will,’ said Harry, but I didn’t see how.
Three weeks later, while scrolling through a Facebook surrogacy group I’d joined, I saw a post from a woman named Rachael.
She’d been a surrogate and wanted to help another family.
Among hundreds of comments, I simply clicked ‘Like’. Two hours later, she messaged me, explaining she’d read my introduction post in the group. I’d like to meet you, she said.
The moment Harry and I sat down with Rachael, 44, I felt as though we’d known each other forever.
She was warm, funny and incredibly kind.
READ MORE: ‘Family miracle: ‘Told we were infertile…then twins!’’
A week later, she told us she wanted to carry our baby. ‘Thank you so much,’ I cried.
After months of counselling, legal paperwork and medical appointments, we were finally ready.
In March 2023, we did IVF again, resulting in four more embryos.
But our first embryo transfer ended in miscarriage. The second did too.
Each loss was devastating for all of us.
Still, none of us wanted to give up.
In December 2023, we transferred our third embryo.
Two days before Christmas, Harry and I were shopping when the fertility clinic called.
‘Congratulations!’ the nurse said. ‘The transfer has worked. Rachael’s pregnant!’
We stood frozen before bursting into tears.
Finally, our miracle had begun.
Rachael included us in every step of the pregnancy.
We attended appointments together, and she’d send us videos whenever our baby kicked.
I’d rest my hands on her tummy and talk to our baby, dreaming of the day we’d meet.
In August 2024, Rachael was induced at Flinders Medical Centre in Adelaide.
Harry and I rushed to the hospital and, soon after, our son Harvey was born.
Harry cut the umbilical cord before the midwife gently placed Harvey into my arms.
‘You’re perfect,’ I whispered through tears.
As his tiny body settled against my chest and his blue eyes met mine, the world disappeared.
After more than a decade of heartbreak, I was finally holding my son.
‘Thank you,’ I sobbed, putting my arms around Rachael.
There were no words big enough for the gift she’d given us.
Because of Australian surrogacy laws, Harvey was legally Rachael’s baby until the parentage order was finalised.
After moving back to New South Wales, we completed the legal process and Harvey officially became ours.
At eight months old, he said his first word, Mama.
And a month after his first birthday, he took his first step.
Today, Harvey is nearly two and a very bright, sweet and gentle toddler.
Hearing him call me Mama still stops me in my tracks. For years, I never thought I’d hear that word. Now it’s the sweetest sound imaginable.
Rachael will always be part of our family. Harvey runs to her for cuddles whenever we visit, and one day we’ll tell him the incredible story of how he came into the world.
I’m now studying a medical science degree and hoping to become an embryologist to help other couples with fertility issues like us.
People say our journey is amazing.
To me, it’s a story about hope, never giving up, and the kindness of one incredible stranger who gave us the greatest gift – a child of our own.
