Chase was the name I had always dreamed of giving my son. At nineteen, I wasn’t ready for fatherhood, but the longing to be a dad never left me. Time passed, and one of my dogs ended up with the name Chase instead. Still, the dream remained. By my late thirties, I was single and feeling the weight of time pressing down. What if I never found the right partner? What if fatherhood slipped out of reach? I never stop hoping to become a father.
In 2017, I finally decided not to wait any longer. I shared my plan with my best friend first. Without hesitation, she told me, “Do it. You’d make an amazing father.” My parents surprised me with the same unconditional support, even though I would be doing this as a single parent. To challenge myself further, I started seeing a family therapist. I needed to know this wasn’t a rash decision but one made from a place of clarity. Nearly a year later, on a solo hike in Colorado, I reached Lone Eagle Peak and felt peace wash over me. The message was clear: it was time to become a father. I felt ready to embrace fatherhood fully now.
For me, surrogacy was the answer. Adoption was always a backup plan, but I longed for a biological connection. Through research, I discovered Men Having Babies and their GPAP program, which connected me to clinics and surrogacy agencies. I chose an agency in Los Angeles and began the journey. This path finally brought to closer to fatherhood.
The first hurdle nearly stopped me in my tracks: my fertility results were awful. Low sperm count, poor motility, and terrible morphology. My doctor prescribed Clomid, a fertility medication usually given to women, which came with its own challenges emotional sensitivity, weight fluctuations, and mood swings. High-intensity workouts helped me cope and kept me focused on the goal. I kept going despites all the challenges.
Next came the search for an egg donor. At first, I flipped through countless profiles without connection. Then I stumbled across one woman’s profile she was smart, beautiful, and most importantly, her video made her feel real. Her love for her family and her bond with her dad sealed my decision. Around the same time, I matched with a surrogate in Oregon. It felt like everything was falling into place, until the egg donor’s first retrieval failed. Months passed while she tried again, and all the while I continued paying my surrogate. I stay patience while waiting for the progress.
When it finally came time to fertilize the eggs, I had to provide a fresh sample. Sitting in a crowded clinic waiting room, I noticed a young woman with glasses reading a book. My heart raced—I realized it was her, the egg donor. Most donors remain anonymous, but with the agency’s approval, I was able to meet her briefly. I hugged her and burst into tears. She was so kind, and that moment remains etched in my memory.
The fertilization worked: three healthy girl embryos and one healthy boy. I had always dreamed of a son, but I also tried to prepare my heart for the possibility of a daughter. My surrogate, however, experienced two failed transfers. The doctor bluntly told me, “She’s a dead end.” Crushed, I had to move on. Soon after, I was matched with Nicole, a vibrant and caring woman from Oregon.
By August 2019, the transfer was scheduled. The timing collided with a backpacking trip in the Canadian Arctic. With limited satellite data, I received a panicked email from the clinic: “We don’t know which embryo to use.” I quickly replied, “The boy,” and prayed my message went through. Days later, Nicole sent me a picture of a pregnancy test: “It looks like you’re going to have a baby!!!” I was overwhelmed with joy. I couldn’t believe that wonderful news I was so happy.
The pregnancy went smoothly. Every scan was normal, every milestone celebrated. Nicole and I bonded, and I’ll always be grateful to her for giving me this gift. On April 25, 2020, my son was born healthy and strong. I named him Beaumont, which means “from a beautiful mountain,” a reminder of the clarity I found on Lone Eagle Peak.
Becoming a father during COVID was not the life I had imagined. Isolation was hard, and I was constantly afraid of him getting sick. But Beau was a joy from the start. He slept through the night early, hit his milestones with pride, and filled my days with laughter. Watching him learn—his first laugh, his first word, the way he lights up when he figures something out has been the greatest privilege of my life. Every day with him bring more pure joy.
Now nearly two, Beau is full of energy and curiosity. I’ve taken him hiking, swimming, and to parks, sharing my love of the outdoors with him. Parenting as a single dad is exhausting and leaves little room for a social life, especially during the pandemic, but I wouldn’t trade it for anything.
The hardest part isn’t the sleepless nights or the constant juggling it’s knowing I had to choose between risking never becoming a father or taking the leap on my own. I’m so glad I chose the leap. Life as a single parent isn’t easy, but it is full, meaningful, and without regret
