Evan and I got married on November 18, 2016, just three days before our six-year anniversary. It was one of the happiest days of our lives, and we couldn’t wait to begin the next chapter as husband and wife. We had so many dreams and goals. One of the first things we decided was that we wanted to see more of the world together. We planned a honeymoon in St. Lucia, a trip to Disney World and Harry Potter World, and even a cruise through the Norwegian Fjords. We were the youngest couple on the ship, but it ended up being the most adventurous trip we ever took. It was during that trip that we decided to try for a baby. We thought, how amazing would it be to conceive during such a special journey?
We had been so careful and healthy. We avoided alcohol, cut back on caffeine, and paid attention to our diets. When we returned home from Europe, I couldn’t wait to see if we were pregnant. I knew the chances of conceiving right away weren’t high, but I was hopeful. When the test came back negative, something inside me told me this was going to be harder than I imagined. I cried, not just because of the result, but because deep down I felt something was wrong.
Months went by filled with countless tests, apps, supplements, and plans to improve our chances. I tracked everything and prayed constantly, but nothing happened. Normally, doctors suggest waiting a year before seeing a fertility specialist, but because of some health issues I’d had in the past, my doctor referred us after six months. We went through round after round of bloodwork, exams, and analysis. Waiting for results was agonizing. When mine came back, I was told I was perfectly healthy. That should have been good news, but instead it left me with questions. If I was fine, then what was wrong? A few days later, we got the answer: our problem was male factor infertility.
The news crushed us. We felt completely alone. Our doctor explained how rare the issue was, which made us feel even more isolated. More tests followed, and eventually we were told surgery might be our only chance at trying IVF. After months of waiting, Evan finally had the surgery, but it was unsuccessful. I’ll never forget having to wake him up and tell him we would never be able to have biological children together. It was the hardest day of my life.
We grieved deeply. I researched endlessly, determined to find a way to become a mother. Adoption and donor cells were the two options available, but neither felt right for us. Adoption was expensive and uncertain, while using donor cells brought fears about one of us not being biologically connected. We made a plan to begin adoption and revisit donors later, but neither path brought peace to our hearts.
Then one morning on my way to work, it hit me: embryo adoption. I called Evan and said the words out loud. We didn’t even know if it was real, but something inside me told me this was the answer. Minutes later, Evan confirmed it was possible, and everything changed. For the first time in months, I felt hope.
We discovered that our fertility center had an embryo donation program. Within two months, we chose donors, adopted two embryos, and prepared for transfer. We lost one embryo, but the other became our miracle daughter, Maerynne Rose. Holding her was pure joy, even though we also carried grief for the baby we lost.
Not long after, we knew we wanted to try again so Maerynne could have a sibling. We adopted two more embryos, but the pandemic delayed everything. Finally, in June 2020, we were able to go through with the transfer. Both embryos survived the thaw, but only one implanted. That little fighter became our son, Lennox Evan. Once again, joy and grief lived side by side, we celebrated his life while mourning the embryo we lost.
Today, we are parents to two beautiful children. If we ever try for a third, we’ll need to start the entire process again with new donors. For now, we are focusing on loving and enjoying the two miracles we’ve been given.
Our journey has been filled with pain, loss, waiting, and disappointment, but also hope, strength, and indescribable love. To anyone walking through infertility, I want you to know you are stronger than you think, and it’s okay to feel every emotion along the way. Most importantly, lean on your partner, you’re in this together.
I don’t believe everything happens for a reason, but I do believe beauty can rise from suffering. My children are proof of that. If I could go back and change it all, I wouldn’t, because the struggle is what brought me to them, and I love them with every fiber of my being.
