Their family wasn’t built as they first imagined, but they found their son through loss, courage, and an open door, and love made them whole. They married on May 30, 2015, full of hope and the easy belief that a family would come when it was meant to. Month after month, she took tests with a smile and a little ritual of optimism, until hope turned into a quiet ache. In 2016, they became foster parents.
Their first placement lasted seven months. Soon after, surgery revealed a large ovarian cyst and endometriosis. Another placement arrived that December and stayed until April 2018. Then, on their third anniversary, May 30, 2018, she finally saw two lines. She took seven tests just to be sure, wrapped the news in a gift, and waited for Justin to return. A week later, in an ER, their first baby slipped away. It was a shattering end to a dream they’d already started to build in their heads.
The pain didn’t end there. By spring 2019, the endometriosis flared again, and she had another surgery. The questions from others kept coming, such as when you are having kids, if you are trying, just relax, and each one was a fresh sting. Still, the clock after surgery offered a small window where pregnancy was more likely. In November 2019, it happened again. This time, they moved carefully: bloodwork, precautions, progesterone. Then spotting, cramps, and a drive to the doctor in almost-silence while she cried the kinds of tears that hold anger, bargaining, and a last, fragile faith. An ultrasound tech saw something in the right fallopian tube, an ectopic pregnancy.
Their doctor ran in from a delivery, hugged her, and said words that mattered: it wasn’t her fault. She needed emergency surgery right away. The operation saved her life but cost a fallopian tube. Then the world shut down for COVID; they were just husband and wife again, grateful for safety and unsure about the future.
On August 11, 2020, the phone rang. Would they take a two-day-old baby boy through foster care? Their home had been closed for years. They said yes. By August 13, she walked into the NICU alone because of hospital rules and met their son. Later, she realized his due date matched the baby they had lost the previous November. They had no baby gear, but friends flooded their porch with packages. They promised themselves they would stay guarded. Then they held a 7-pound miracle, and every guard fell.
The path to adoption was faster than most, but it still felt like forever. Parental rights were terminated nine months after his birth; even then, she sometimes caught herself asking, “But what if…?” In May, she let herself believe it was real. On November 16, 2021, after 464 days in foster care, they finalized his adoption and named him Koepka Jayce Williams, honoring a favorite golfer and her late brother.
She has learned patience the hard way. She knows what it is to want a family and cannot make it happen. That grief changed her, but it also deepened her gratitude; every bottle, every nap, every laugh means more. She fiercely respects her son’s first mother: brave, strong, and part of their story forever. Their son will grow up knowing where he came from and how deeply he was loved. To anyone walking a similar road, she would say: lead with love, do the homework, listen to adoptees and birth parents, and remember that foster care and adoption are not one-size-fits-all. Be flexible. Be kind. Be resilient. And don’t hold hate; it doesn’t belong in a heart meant to love a child.
