Our first date was bowling with his sister and her husband. Neither of us tried to impress the other, and maybe that’s what made it so special. We laughed, we were ourselves, and it turned out to be one of the best dates I had ever been on. Just two and a half months later, Carl proposed.
Two and a half months after that, we were married. From the day we met to our wedding day was only five months. At the time, I was in nursing school, and he hadn’t started college yet. We didn’t have much, but we managed to plan a beautiful wedding, and I truly felt like I had married the man of my dreams.
I had always wanted to be a mom. In fact, as a little girl, I imagined having nearly twenty kids. Carl didn’t share that dream. He wanted no more than three. Still, one of the first things I asked him after we married was, “Can we adopt?” He wasn’t opposed, but he wanted us to try for biological children first.
After four years of marriage, we were ready. Carl had finished more schooling, and I was working as a pediatric home care nurse. I had always carried a fear that motherhood might be hard for me, though I never knew why. When months went by without a pregnancy, I couldn’t ignore it. After many tests and surgeries, the doctors gave us the news I had dreaded most: we would not be able to have biological children. I cried for days.
But adoption had always been in my heart, and Carl quickly agreed it was the right path for us. We began the paperwork, which was exhausting — background checks, home studies, endless forms. I called it my “paper pregnancy.” If I wasn’t going to go through the changes of pregnancy, I would go through this instead. After about nine months, just like a real pregnancy, we were chosen to adopt a baby girl.
It happened quickly. A fifteen-year-old girl contacted us through an online adoption site. She was due in a week and wanted to meet us. We drove two and a half hours to her home. The moment I met her, I loved her. She was young, innocent, and so brave. We connected with her family instantly, and soon she chose us. A week later, I was in the delivery room with her, holding her hand and painting her toenails as we waited for our baby girl to be born. That was the beginning of our open adoption journey. Our daughter is now nearly sixteen, and we still have a close, loving relationship with her birth family.
When our daughter was two, we began the adoption process again. Life took us from Idaho to Colorado and then back again, and just when we returned, a birth mother from Colorado chose us for her baby boy. She had seen our profile while we were still living there. She didn’t mind that we had moved, because she felt strongly we were meant to be his family.
He was born in 2009, and today, at 13, he shares a beautiful open adoption relationship with his birth family.
We thought our family might be complete with two children, but God had other plans. After several failed adoption attempts, we felt at peace with the blessings we had. Then one day, during a trip to Ecuador, our daughter’s birth grandfather called us about a little girl he had met in an orphanage. The process was long and difficult, but two years later, we adopted her at age 12. She is now 15, our middle child, and a true gift.
Our family was built through open adoption. Each journey was different, filled with paperwork, waiting, hope, and sometimes heartbreak. But every child we welcomed came with love, from us and from their birth families. Today, my children are surrounded by more love than I ever dreamed. They have birth families, adoptive families, and countless people cheering them on.
Open adoption isn’t always easy. It requires patience, honesty, and a willingness to share your heart. But it has shown me that family isn’t just about blood. It’s about love, connection, and showing up for one another. Looking back, I see that God’s plan was far better than mine. I didn’t get the twenty children I dreamed of, but I did get exactly the family I was meant to have.
