She and her husband had been together for more than a decade. They met in high school and college. He proposed in college, and they married soon after she graduated. They loved each other fiercely and always dreamed of having children someday. But after a few years of marriage, they decided to wait a bit. They wanted to settle, enjoy life together, and get comfortable in their new house before starting a family. Then, in 2016, after buying their first home, they thought: Maybe now they’re ready. They started trying to have a baby. For months, nothing happened. Every month brought hope and disappointment. Eventually, after about nine months, they went to their OB.
They were referred to a fertility specialist. The doctor gently but honestly told them that their chances of conceiving naturally were extremely low, only about 0.1%. They were heartbroken. But they didn’t give up. Instead, they began a process of fertility treatment. They tried a first cycle of in vitro fertilization (IVF) in December 2016. The injections. The blood tests. The ultrasounds. It was a grueling six-week process. When egg retrieval happened, she woke up with the news: just seven eggs retrieved. For someone who had responded well to stimulation, she was shocked and devastated. What went wrong?
They held onto hope. Doctors said maybe with a better protocol, things would improve. So, a few months later May 2017, they tried again. This time, the result was even harder to accept: only six eggs were retrieved. And by day five in the lab, all embryos had failed to survive. That meant no transfer and no pregnancy. Just like that, their hopes were crushed again. After months of treatments, heartbreak, and physical and emotional exhaustion, they made a painful decision: they had to step back. She told her husband that she couldn’t keep putting her body and her marriage through this torture.
For a while, they took a break. They travelled. They refocused on their selves and their marriage, trying to heal from the pain. But the deep longing in their hearts stayed. They still wanted to be parents. They began to explore other paths: foster care, foster-to-adopt, or adoption. After talking and thinking, they decided adoption felt right for them. But adoption was also expensive, tens of thousands of dollars, and uncertain. Could they manage financially? Could they handle the emotional roller coaster? They both felt that if this was the path meant for them, somehow they’d find a way.
In December 2017, they signed up with an adoption agency. By March 2018, they were an active adoptive family. They started filling out paperwork. They waited. They prayed. As weeks passed, they were presented to expectant mothers, but after eight attempts, all were “no.” Each rejection felt like salt in an open wound. Their disappointment grew heavier. But they refused to lose hope somewhere out there; their child was waiting.
Then, on June 8, 2018, the day before her 28th birthday, a life-changing call came. An expectant mother in labor had chosen their family. They couldn’t believe it. She remembers the moment she heard the news: she let out a loud cry, and the words, “I’m going to be a mom,” spilled from her lips. Her husband, in the other room, heard her and screamed, “WHAT?!!” They sobbed. For hours. They couldn’t believe it.
They called their families. They prayed for mom and baby. The adoption agency got everything ready: the paperwork, the travel arrangements. That night, the mother was still pregnant. They held their breath. Then came the word: the baby was going to arrive that night. They needed to act fast. She and her husband packed their bags, and even though it was a long drive, they left for Utah: a 17-hour road trip to meet the child who would become their son.
The next day, they met him: tiny, fragile, just three pounds. Born premature. He needed time in the NICU to grow and become strong. Still, as she held him for the first time, she realized something amazing: this little boy, so unexpectedly and miraculously placed in their arms, was their child now. They named him Miles Langston. He carried hope in his small body, hope that all the pain, the heartbreak, the tears were worth it. After five long weeks in NICU, they finally brought Miles home. He slowly thrived. And on December 14, 2018, a day they’ll never forget, this adoption was finalized. He was officially them. They were officially a family.
Looking back now, she still can hardly believe their journey from painful infertility, tearful despair, to heartbreak and loss, to longing and waiting, to finally hope and fulfillment. She often thinks maybe their timing didn’t match what they had planned. But she believes something bigger had its own plan all along. Miles is their miracle, the child they dreamed of, prayed for, and never gave up on. He is everything and more than they imagined. And today, she is so proud to finally call herself “Mom.”
