Jeff and I had been married for almost three years when we felt ready to begin our journey into parenthood.
Courtesy of Stephanie Reid
In 2014, we welcomed our first daughter, Kenley. She was everything we had hoped for. Just 17 months later, in 2015, her sister Blake arrived. She was calm, sweet, and quickly earned the nickname “Blakey.”
Life was busy but full of joy—until everything changed.
Courtesy of Stephanie Reid
Blake wasn’t hitting milestones. She couldn’t hold her head up. Our pediatrician brushed it off. But by six months, we had a diagnosis: Spinal Muscular Atrophy Type I. It was terminal. There was no treatment, no cure. Our world collapsed.
Courtesy of Stephanie Reid
After the shock, we chose to live joyfully in the time we had. We did everything—parks, beaches, camping. I spent many nights holding her, sometimes out of fear, mostly because she was perfect. I knew we were meant for each other.
Courtesy of Stephanie Reid
Blake passed away one week before her first birthday, in her daddy’s arms, at a park, with music playing. She gave me strength and a purpose I never expected. She changed me forever.
Courtesy of Stephanie Reid
Six weeks later, I found out I was pregnant. We were stunned. Terrified. At 10 weeks, testing confirmed our baby girl was unaffected by SMA. Ayla was born exactly 11 months after Blake’s passing. She’s wild where Blake was gentle, but they look so much alike. We gave her the middle name Blake, in honor of the bravest girl we’ve ever known.
Courtesy of Stephanie Reid
One sleepless night, I stumbled onto foster care posts. Something deep down told me, “You have to act — you can’t just let this go.”
Courtesy of Stephanie Reid
After months of research and training, we got licensed. On the Friday we were approved, we waited. The following Monday was Blake’s third birthday. We stayed home to remember her.
The next day, I got a call: “We have a baby. She was born yesterday. She needs a long-term home.”
I hung up and called Jeff, crying. “She was born on Blakey’s birthday.”
Courtesy of Stephanie Reid
That was the day we met our fourth daughter, Everly Joy.
Tiny and beautiful. We finalized her adoption a year later. She is joy in motion—spunky, curious, full of life. Since then, eight foster boys have come and gone, each one touching our hearts.
Courtesy of Stephanie Reid
Everly doesn’t replace Blake. No one could. But I believe they share something special. Because of Blake, my heart was open to Everly.
Courtesy of Stephanie Reid
Our family doesn’t look like what I once imagined. But I am proud. Proud of my daughters. Proud of our love. I carry one in my heart, and hold three in my arms.
And I wouldn’t change a thing.
