01/22/2026
Taylor and I have dreamt together for 15 years about being wives and mothers; we would drive around in my 1997 Honda Accord with the crank down windows and talk all about what we imagined life would be like in adulthood when all our biggest dreams came true.
None of that panned out for either of us the way we expected to, but still exactly as God intended it to. While I wade through long seasons of singleness far into adulthood than I ever expected, Taylor was wading through different but similar territory while she navigated infertility. For years we’ve held each other’s grief and disbelief over our circumstances, never letting the other feel alone in their doubts.
At the height of her infertility concerns, I drove down to see her and spend the day teaching her how to use her new camera as a way to turn her grief into something productive. She politely asked me not to talk about her struggles, as the news and wounds were fresh and not something she could wrestle with that day. Of course, I obliged. While we sat on the couch talking all things camera and photography, her husband Charlie was cleaning the house. He walked into the living room with some wedding decor of theirs and exclaimed “I’m not getting rid of these things, I think we can use them in the baby’s nursery someday.” I saw the flash of pain over Taylor’s face, but what I also saw was something much bigger than that. I saw a husband carrying the hope for the BOTH of them, while Taylor had no reserves left for it that day. Her hope had drained, but Charlie was determined to carry enough of it for the both of them.
And it was enough - because it got them here.
Here, where baby Lainey will join us in just a few short weeks. Here, where an entire community’s prayer was answered as a testament to God’s faithfulness. Here, where two of the most deserving people I know get to soak up the experience of growing a human together in unity.
Here, in this phase, is such a beautiful place to be.
