Ever since I can remember, I’ve always dreamed of having children. Growing up in a fairly large family, I loved the chaos, the laughter, the constant motion, and I knew I wanted to create the same kind of home for my own children one day. My mom was incredibly involved in my life, guiding, nurturing, and supporting me through everything, and I knew I wanted to do the same for my kids—be present, hands-on, and fully invested in their lives.
After marrying my best friend, Woody—his nickname since high school—in April 2013, we didn’t waste any time starting our family. Both of us wanted multiple children, and we knew time was a factor. Woody was 30, I was 28, and we were ready to begin this next chapter. But after six months of trying to conceive, nothing happened. I was confused, frustrated, and heartbroken. Everyone else around us seemed to get pregnant effortlessly, so why weren’t we able to? Feeling something was off, we decided it was time to see a doctor.
The doctor told us to be patient, that six months wasn’t a long time. But my gut told me otherwise. I insisted on testing anyway. We underwent bloodwork, analyses, and every test available—and all results came back normal. There was no obvious reason we weren’t getting pregnant. That gave us hope, but also left me unsettled. Determined to take the next step, we decided to try intrauterine insemination (IUI), a procedure designed to give Woody’s sperm a little help in reaching the egg.
Three IUIs later, each ending in disappointment, hundreds of dollars spent, and thousands of tears shed over negative pregnancy tests, we were referred to a Fertility Specialist. More tests, more evaluations, more bloodwork… and then the words I never wanted to hear: “Unexplained Infertility.” There was no medical reason preventing me from conceiving—we just couldn’t. My world felt like it had shattered. I’ve always been a problem-solver, a “there’s an issue, let’s find a solution” kind of person, and suddenly, there was no solution. Another couple of IUIs at the specialist’s office failed, leaving me numb, frustrated, and empty.
Two years of trying had left us drained physically, emotionally, and spiritually. I questioned everything—why did God plant such a strong desire for children in my heart if I wasn’t meant to birth any? Thoughts of inadequacy consumed me. I felt like I wasn’t enough, like maybe motherhood simply wasn’t meant for me. I pulled away from Woody, needing time to process, to grieve, and to accept the reality. Slowly, painfully, I learned to give myself grace. Seeing birth announcements, gender reveals, and celebrations of pregnancy was hard, but eventually, I began to heal.
Determined to find a path forward, I researched every option—IVF, embryo adoption, surrogacy, domestic adoption, international adoption. After talking with a lawyer friend who specialized in adoptions, Woody and I had honest conversations about each path. We felt a pull toward international adoption from China. The universe seemed to be guiding us there, and we decided to trust that calling.
The adoption process was long, emotional, and filled with paperwork, fingerprints, and waiting. But every step felt worth it. When we were matched with our son, Wesley, we knew immediately he was the one. We received his file in the middle of a beach trip with friends, and a few days later, we accepted it. Over the next five months, we received updates and photos. Wesley had grown from a 10-month-old barely crawling to a 15-month-old walking. I was happy for him but couldn’t help feeling a twinge of sadness for missing those milestones. Woody reminded me that there would be many more to come, and I held on to that thought.
Traveling to China was an adventure in itself—coming from a small town in Georgia, we weren’t seasoned travelers. But meeting Wesley for the first time was pure magic. Love at first sight. He was mine, and I was his. During two weeks in China, we bonded, explored local parks, sightseeing spots, and even returned to his orphanage. Meeting the woman who cared for him was a humbling, emotional moment—he reached for her immediately, and seeing the love in his eyes gave me hope that one day he would feel the same for me.
Once home, it became clear why God had led us down this path. Adoption had never been on our radar until infertility forced us to confront a new reality. If I had conceived naturally, we may never have adopted—and Wesley would not have been in our lives. The timing, the path, the challenges—they all made sense in hindsight.
Ten months later, the impossible happened. I was late. Three positive pregnancy tests later, I told Woody I was pregnant. I was overjoyed; we were about to expand our family even further. But at my 8-week appointment, the ultrasound revealed no heartbeat. The baby had died, and a part of me died too. The grief of unexplained infertility returned in full force.
After months of healing, both physically and emotionally, we tried again. Nothing. But the desire to expand our family remained. We felt called to adopt again, initially planning to return to China. But COVID changed everything, and China closed its adoption program in January 2020. After a year and a half of waiting, we decided to open our hearts to Colombia instead. Wherever our child-to-be was, we were ready to welcome them.
Adoption has been life-changing. The chance to provide a forever family to not one, but two children, is beyond humbling. Becoming an adoption advocate was never part of my plan, yet here I am—sharing our story, offering support to other families navigating infertility and adoption, and celebrating the community of moms who understand the highs and lows of this journey.
Opening up about my infertility and miscarriage was hard at first. I felt shame, guilt, and isolation. But learning that 1 in 8 people face infertility and 1 in 4 women experience miscarriage reminded me I wasn’t alone. Leaning on your village—your spouse, friends, family—is essential. Celebrate the good days together, support each other through the bad, and never carry the weight alone.
Through infertility, adoption, and loss, I’ve grown stronger, wiser, and more trusting of God’s timing. I’ve built a solid foundation with Woody, learned to advocate for others, and embraced a life that, though not exactly as I planned, is filled with blessings beyond measure. The path isn’t always straight, but it always leads to where you’re meant to be.
