My wife Jen and I started our journey to have children more than 5 years ago expecting our road to be mapped out and predictable. We’d seen many others have kids and thought it would be easy. Our expectations could not have been further from the truth. In our first year of trying to conceive, I was diagnosed with cancer, a curveball that put our family planning on pause as I endured rounds of chemo and surgeries. Eventually, I worked my way back to full health, but the procedures and therapy cancelled our plans to have kids naturally. As this news sank in, I lost sight of the finish line. For a time I thought there wouldn’t be a joyous end to our efforts and our chances of having a family were all for not. Surviving cancer depleted our energy and it was a struggle to center ourselves on our family planning goals. Having a child was going to be harder than we thought.

After some soul-searching, we pressed on with our journey and tried IVF. The process began with promise, and with some top-quality embryos in hand, we thought we were one transfer away from conception. We hoped and prayed and did everything we could to increase our chances, scientifically proven or not, but nothing came of our efforts expect more heartbreak and uncertainty. It was painfully obvious that we would have to take another route to parenthood.

Jen and I are critical thinkers, and we rarely jump to a decision without processing every bit of information we can. So, for our next steps, it took us a long time to decide on where we were being called. There was no roadmap and a lot of our decisions were made on gut feelings after spending many hours talking. We began looking into foster care and state and private adoptions, all of which were far off my radar of how I’d become a dad. We attended information sessions where we talked to agents and other adoption families about their experience. We spent hours on the Internet researching. We filled out background checks and had our home inspected. Step by step, we thought we were on the track we were intended to follow. But gut feelings can only lead you so far.

It wasn’t until a mentor of ours suggested looking into embryo adoption where the thought of actually raising a child from birth was possible for us. We’d never heard of this form of adoption and decided to give it a go despite the struggles we’d already been through with IVF. Jen and I were in better places, although something called COVID-19 was running rampant around the world. If there was ever a time to try to have kids, we thought it was now. And if this didn’t work, we could always pursue the other forms of adoption we had already researched.

It was hard to get my hopes up knowing our IVF history. I didn’t want to have to endure any more trauma than I already had, and the thought of not being successful—again—gave me nightmares. So, when Jen and I received a call from our fertility clinic with the news that Jen was pregnant after our second attempt, I thought they were joking or had called the wrong family. We were in disbelief. In the middle of the pandemic, where everything seemed to be falling apart and nothing was going right, being told that we would be parents completely shocked our systems.

Last week, I finally had the opportunity to take maternity photos of Jen after years of thinking the day would never come. As I was taking her photos, I chuckled thinking how true the old adage “a photo is worth a thousand words” is, or in Jen’s case, how hundreds of shots in the rear are worth having a baby (maybe not a thousand)! We wanted to share this incredible news in order to inspire you all to never give up no matter how complicated or impossible things are because the harder it is, the sweeter the reward in the end.

We are blessed to have had so many people support us throughout the years to get us to where we are now, a month from becoming parents. To new beginnings, one dirty diaper at a time.

Learn More:

Follow Jen as she writes about her pathway to pregnancy on her blog Smith Family Grows.

As the days fly by in this last month of 2018, I can't help but wonder what lies ahead. Joy, excitement, trepidation, maybe some relaxation? No matter what's to come, I'm confident the pain and struggle I've endured in 2018 will metamorphose into something beautiful in the new year. Just like an athlete whose been sidelined by a concussion has to go through a rigorous step-by-step process in order to return to contact sports, I also had to take many steps (half-steps, side-steps, and stumbles) to return to living life symptom-free. No recovery would be without set backs, however. A newspaper article or ad on T.V. might set off some painful memories or a conversation with a doctor might stir up emotions I thought I had buried—evidently, not deep enough. Through memory, what was so unbearable at the time has slowly faded into merely a dream of what was. Looking to the future, Jen and I are turning our attention to growing our family, though, as has been the case with many things in our lives, we won't be following a traditional course. This past year, it was extremely difficult to hear our doctors tell us that having a child through natural conception would not be possible. (Jen will write about this more in 2019.) Though there are other ways to have a child through a donor, we decided, through lots of prayer and time spent thinking in nature, that we want to pursue adoption instead. Both of us have so much life experience and wisdom to offer that we want to share this with a child who might not have been dealt the best hand. Even when the cards were against us, Jen and I learned to play the game of life with what we had. We aren't into gambling, but taking a chance on growing our family in this fashion is something we know we'll never regret. Being granted a second, if not third chance is something I don't take lightly, and as a couple, I know we can give a lot back to a child who deserves another chance.

We don't have many details yet; we're just beginning to collect as much information as we can to help us make the right decision. But what we do know is that this holiday season we'll be spending a lot of time thinking about what our family might look like come this time next year. If this last year taught us anything, it's that giving up has no reward. Even if we stumble, we're still moving in the direction of our goal. And even though it feels like we're back to square one with starting a family, we know that's not the truth. It almost feels like Jen and I had to go through this adversity to find out how resilient we are as potential parents first. Sure, there will be myriad times when we want to give up, but when we've already come this far, why throw in the towel when there is so much more living to do? These are the moments when goodwill and positive intentions help the ones who choose to stay in the game. When a marathon runner catches an unexpected fifth wind or when a climber struggles and emerges from an arduous position. It's a matter of staying in the game. As many long-distance hikers say to themselves when the trail is too tough and pain is winning over joy, "You don't give up on a bad day."

So maybe we don't get out skiing or hiking as much as we hope this winter, but we still make it out a couple times. That's a win. And maybe those early mornings waiting to photograph sunrise don't pan out to be as brilliant of a photo as we wanted. That's still a win in our book too. Because we'll continue saying to ourselves we're happy we got to do something rather than we didn't get to do something at all. As one year ends and another begins, we are overwhelmed with the opportunity to start a family. Regardless if it's not how we envisioned, we know we should be grateful that we get to do this at all.

Until next time, peace and love,

Coming Up:

January 2019: Ice Climbing 12 Hours Straight for a Cause

Growing our Roots:

We're always looking for ways to connect through art, photography, and storytelling. Reach out to us with your ideas! We'd love to hear from you.
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