I’ve been married to Byron for 23 years, and from the very beginning, we dreamed of having a large family.
Early in our marriage, we faced four miscarriages, which were heartbreaking. Despite my medical complications, we were able to have our daughters, Tessa and Ruby. Even before we were married, adoption had always been a part of our conversation, so we knew it would be a path for continuing our family.
In 2010, we welcomed our son Leo into our family through adoption from the Gladney Center in Ft. Worth, Texas.
It was an incredible experience, and we immediately knew we wanted to adopt again. In 2013, we welcomed our daughter Kamari, or Kiki. Then in 2017, our son Emmett joined us. Each child has brought their own joy and challenges, and we loved them all fiercely.
By late 2018, I felt a strong pull to adopt again, this time a baby with medical needs. I couldn’t shake the feeling. After weeks of talking to Byron, he finally said, “If this is something you feel so strongly about, let’s call Gladney.” The very next day, I contacted our caseworker, Tanya, about their Medically Fragile program. Four months later, we got the call. Byron, not me, received it. He texted me, “There’s a 4-month-old baby girl with a form of dwarfism.” I replied right away, “YES! Tell them yes. A thousand times, yes!”
We learned Ivy has diastrophic dysplasia, a rare condition affecting bones, joints, cartilage, hands, feet, neck, and spine. It causes short arms and legs but a normal torso. It’s degenerative, meaning her mobility and comfort will be ongoing challenges. I admit, Googling her diagnosis was frightening. But Byron, an amputee himself, reminded me, “We’ve got this.”
On June 4, 2019, we brought Ivy home. That day was a whirlwind of emotions
excited, scared, nervous, and happy all at once. Ivy cried that first night, and I held her while we both cried, promising her love. By the next morning, she smiled up at me. Life with six kids, including a medically fragile baby, was intense but also joyful. Ivy bonded quickly with her siblings, especially Leo.
We navigated her medical care carefully. Many local doctors had never treated diastrophic dysplasia, so we flew to Delaware to see Dr. Mackenzie at Nemours DuPont Hospital. His expertise lifted a huge weight off my shoulders. Ivy began physical therapy almost immediately, learning to roll over, sit up, and eventually stand. Byron even built a tiny walker for her, and within days she was taking steps and chasing her siblings around the living room.
Diastrophic dysplasia is degenerative, so we’re preparing our home with ramps, an accessible bathroom, and plans for a service dog. Despite extra appointments, travel, and worry, Ivy is just like any other child—full of curiosity, joy, and love. We focus on her abilities rather than her disability.
Adopting a child with special needs can be scary, but it’s worth it. Know your limits, but don’t fear taking a risk. Ivy has changed our family, taught us to find joy in small victories, and reminded us all of resilience and love. Every day, she shows incredible strength and ability, and she fills our lives with inspiration.
