On August 31, 2016, we welcomed Canyon into the world. From day one, he was the easiest, happiest baby. He slept through the night, nursed like a champ, and rarely fussed. Because everything felt so effortless, we quickly began talking about having another baby. Our dream was to have four kids, each about 18 months apart, so we could move through the baby years and then fully embrace family adventures and memory-making.
In the spring of 2018, our daughter Ember was born—and she couldn’t have been more different from her brother. She was fussy, clingy, and struggled with sleep, and when she was just three months old, I developed mastitis. That season was exhausting in every way. From that point on, we felt confident we were done growing our family. We had our boy, we had our girl, and on paper, we felt complete. But deep down, I didn’t.
I still felt a strong desire to be pregnant again and experience birth one more time, even though I knew I didn’t want more children of my own. We live an adventurous lifestyle, and two kids felt manageable—parenting is hard enough as it is. Month after month, my certainty about not wanting more children remained firm, yet the longing to carry a baby never went away. I briefly considered surrogacy, imagining how meaningful that experience could be, but I tucked the thought away and prayed about it instead.
A few months later, I reconnected with a friend who asked how I was doing, how the kids were, and whether we planned to have another baby. I quickly replied, “No,” but the familiar ache returned. She looked at me and said, “You should be a surrogate.” Her words caught me completely off guard, but in that moment, it felt like God was speaking directly to my heart. The very next day, I brought it up to Dan.
I walked him through it carefully—how we didn’t want more kids, how much I loved pregnancy and labor, and what gestational surrogacy actually meant. At first, he hesitated, worried it meant giving away our own baby, but once I explained the embryo would belong to the Intended Parents, he felt relieved. He asked for time to pray. About a week later, he called me and said, “Let’s do it.” His full support meant everything to me.
We spent months researching and ultimately decided to go through an agency since this was all new to us. We found a local agency, completed an application, passed background checks, submitted medical records, and even had an in-home interview. Everything felt like it was falling into place—until the psychological evaluation. Though the psychologist herself was incredibly kind and supportive, I narrowly failed the required personality test due to the agency’s strict standards. I was devastated and confused. I truly felt called to this, yet I trusted God had a reason.
About a month later, my midwife reached out, knowing of a couple struggling to conceive who wanted to connect. We were hopeful this was the reason the agency door had closed, but ultimately, we parted ways due to differing beliefs regarding termination. Once again, I was left questioning why this journey kept stalling.
Then, everything became clearer. A few months later, Dan had a job transition, and we moved from Colorado back to Missouri. On a road trip shortly after, we met friends from social media, and over dinner, surrogacy came up. The wife shared that her sister had been a surrogate and recommended matching independently. For the first time in a long while, hope returned.
I joined several surrogacy groups and quietly observed for weeks. On September 30, 2020, I finally posted my story. Within 24 hours, nearly ten couples reached out. As I began reviewing messages, one stood out immediately. Peace washed over me. Dan agreed—they felt like “the ones.” Our FaceTime conversations were filled with laughter, tears, and instant connection. Soon after, they asked to move forward. It felt like every prayer over the past year and a half had led us to this moment.
The process moved quickly—medical records were sent, contracts finalized, my IUD removed, and medications started. Then, unexpectedly, the Intended Mother shared incredible news: she was pregnant. Given her history of recurrent miscarriages, they still wanted to proceed cautiously, and we were fully on board.
What followed was a challenging season of medication, ultrasounds, and disappointment. Despite Estrace, Delestrogen injections, lifestyle changes, supplements, and countless efforts, my uterine lining wouldn’t thicken. After weeks of trying, we canceled the cycle and prepared for a natural protocol. Coming off the medications was emotionally draining, but we pressed forward with hope.
Research later revealed that removing an IUD can take months for the body to regulate—something that finally made sense. Surrogacy wasn’t easy. It wasn’t guaranteed. It truly felt like something only God could orchestrate.
During my second cycle, my lining steadily improved. Just as things looked promising, the Intended Parents asked to talk. They shared incredible news: she was 19 weeks pregnant with a healthy baby girl. We were overjoyed. Given how well her pregnancy was progressing, they asked to pause the journey so they could fully focus on her pregnancy. We understood completely.
After years of heartbreak, she was finally carrying her own child. Suddenly, every delay, every disappointment, every unanswered prayer made sense. Perhaps God’s plan wasn’t for me to carry their baby—but to walk alongside them, offering hope and faith when they needed it most.
So where does that leave us? For now, we remain under contract, praying and supporting them as friends. If her pregnancy continues smoothly, we’ll part ways with full hearts. And if God calls us into another surrogacy journey, we’ll step forward with prayer, trust, and open hands—knowing He always knows what we need before we ask.
