Thoughts on Getting Married Young

I have often thought about how drastically the process of getting married has changed from when my grandparents were young. For one thing, the time between boy-and-girl-meet and boy-and-girl-marry was much shorter than it is today. Back then, it was relatively common for a courtship to last only a few months. Now it seems commonplace for couples to be engaged for years on end. Many people would say that delaying marriage is a good thing, but I am convinced otherwise.

married-young

I recently read a thought-provoking article from The Atlantic called “The Case for Getting Married Young” by Karen Swallow Prior. In it, she details how the modern trend of delaying marriage may not be as optimal for marital health and satisfaction as some might think. She argues that “it can be beneficial to make marriage the cornerstone, rather than the capstone, of your adult life.” I won’t rehash her article here — please take some time to read it for yourself — but it did make me think about how much marriage has changed in two generations, and it made me wonder how it may change even further for Harrison’s generation.

Heidi and I met and began dating in college when I was a sophomore and she was a freshman. We dated for two years and were engaged for one. At the time, I remember so many older adults warning us about the pitfalls of getting married too young. “You’re still so young,” they would say “You don’t need to rush into marriage.” While I looked at our three years together as plenty of time to make a sound decision on marriage, others seemed to think that was not nearly enough time.

Apparently, that pressure to wait is becoming even more pervasive in society. According the Pryor’s article, today’s average age for a first marriage is 29 for men and 27 for women. Compare that to my grandparents’ generation, and no one can deny a seismic shift has occurred in the marriage culture. People often say that getting married young is a recipe for divorce, but the divorce rate has increased right along with the pendulum swing away from young marriage. To me, that is an indication that postponing marriage is more a recipe for divorce and unhappiness (as Pryor’s article also suggests).

From a religious standpoint, this first-marriage statistic is especially problematic. Though it has largely become prudish and old-fashioned for modern society, I still believe in the biblical value of waiting until marriage before having sex. But with puberty arriving sooner than ever and people getting married later in life, the window for abstinence seems impossibly wide. Think about it, my son will likely hit puberty at 13 or 14; if he waits until 29 to get married, he will have to fight the tide of raging testosterone for 15 or 16 years. That is brutal, and it’s a battle that few young men can win.

Now I know some of you might think, “Is this guy saying men should marry young just to alleviate their sex drive and avoid angering their God with pre-marital sex?” I’m not saying that. The physical urge is definitely an undeniable part of the draw, but I think that adult drive can also coincide with other adult drives, like caring for a family, starting a career, etc. Our society seems to love infantalizing young adults in all areas except for sexual behavior. Young adults are capable of being mature, and getting married matures you quickly.

To me, young marriage makes for more mature young adults, and I want that for my son.

What are your thoughts about getting married young? Good idea or bad advice?



I thought that sexual purity was hard for me to keep, but for you it’s going to be doubly hard. Be strong. Don’t go into marriage blindly, but don’t be afraid of it either. Mom and I had some tough times as young newlyweds — we had almost no money at all for the first few years. Looking back, though, I wouldn’t change it for the world.

There’s Been ANOTHER Change of Plan

If you are familiar with the story behind our adoption of Harrison, you will remember that the recurring theme of the entire process was “there has been a change of plan”. Nothing went the way we planned with Harrison’s adoption, and as we set out again on the path of adding to the family, we were taken on another journey that we could never have imagined.

birth-announcement

About this time last year, my wife was sitting on our couch filling out paperwork for an adoption agency. When she came to the financial section of the form, she read that we had to show proof that we already had enough money saved for an adoption before the paperwork could even be submitted. Harrison’s adoption was private, making the cost significantly lower than an agency adoption. We were a bit shocked to learn that the cost for domestic agency adoptions runs in the $20K-$30K range. At that point, we only had one quarter of the required funds saved up. Out loud, my wife prayed a prayer as she looked at the financial shortfall.

“God, you are the only one who can do this. If adoption is really what you want us to do, then you are going to have to create a miracle.”

She put the paperwork back in the file folder and we began thinking of more ways to save, more ways to raise money, and more ways to cut our family budget.

Weeks passed, and we continued our saving and fund raising efforts. Every penny that we could manage to save was put toward our adoption fund, and we were blessed by donations from a wide variety of people. Our Adoption Idol karaoke night and a time and talents auction put on for us by friends added significantly to our savings, and showed us what a blessing generous family and friends can be. (Side note: the ideas above were inspired by the book “Adopt Without Debt” by Julie Gumm — a great resource for parents who prefer not involving Visa or Master Card in their family planning).

Even still, we were well short of our goal.

Then one day last August, I received a private Facebook message that read, “I know that you mentioned in your blog several months ago the desire to adopt again and fundraising for that cause. Not sure how that is progressing, but after much prompting from God and discussions with my husband we would like to offer you and Heidi and Harrison the opportunity to expand your family with our frozen embryos.” The message was from a couple that had undergone past infertility treatments and had a number of children through IVF. They were certain that their family was complete, and since they did not want to simply destroy their remaining frozen embryos, they asked us if we would we be willing to adopt them and carry them ourselves.

As you can imagine, our heads were spinning. This was completely unexpected (a change of plan, if you will), and we weren’t sure what to do or say. After a lot of prayer and seeking counsel, we felt sure that this was God’s working, and we adopted the embryos and set a plan for implantation. Wouldn’t you know it – the cost of adoption and the medical procedure was the exact amount of money we had saved — an amazing confirmation that God’s hand was in this process.

Thanks to God’s goodness, and the generous support of family and friends alike, we are thrilled to announce that we are expecting Baby Gray 2.0 in October! Thanks to everyone for your love and support.

I’m going to have to rename my blog.



Your adoption taught us so much about God’s provision and faithfulness. Now you get to experience for yourself what it is like to have Him answer our prayers in ways we could never have imagined. I know you don’t understand the full weight of what has happened, but I think you are old enough now that you will be able to look back and clearly remember how God answered your little four year-old prayers for a baby brother or sister. You’re going to be a great big brother.

Raising Confidence

We all want our kids to be successful, to be people who make an impact in the world. No good parent looks at his kid and says, “I just want him to be average,” or “If she could be a follower, I’d be so proud.” Still, the world is full of average people, and society is filled with folks who are followers. At what point do parental desires fail to boost our kids past the
reality that more people are average than are great, and what can we do to make sure our kids don’t fizzle into the haze of averageness?

confidence

Every year, I have the opportunity to volunteer at Kurt Warner’s Ultimate Football Experience, an event that helps raise money to support his First Things First Foundation. The event allows people the opportunity to buy a spot on a flag football team that is quarterbacked by a celebrity athlete. Before the games begin, participants get to ask the celebrity QBs questions, and this year someone asked, “What makes a great quarterback?” Everyone on the panel agreed that confidence was the #1 attribute of an effective quarterback. Not natural talent or arm strength or charisma.

Confidence.

Now before you tune out because you think this is just some football post, let me explain that an NFL quarterback is the perfect illustration of a good leader. He not only has to have the confidence that he can beat the 11 men on the other team, he has to have confidence enough to convince the 10 men in his huddle that he is worth following. That’s no simple task, and certainly not one for a person who is unsure of himself. If confidence is an essential trait for the leader of a football team, can’t the same hold true for the owner of a business or a political leader or even a stay-at-home mom?

When I saw the reaction of the 11 football pros all agreeing that confidence is the key to being an effective leader, I began to think about how I can start laying the foundation for my son to develop confidence in his own life. This was not something I could pass on as simply as teaching him to tie his shoes, this was an abstract and daunting task.

During team stretching, I got 2-3 minutes to talk to Kurt Warner about how he teaches confidence to his own kids. To my surprise, he admitted that his kids didn’t inherit his confidence through his DNA, and that it was an ongoing teaching process for him as a father. Just because a father is confident, that doesn’t mean his kids will be. It takes intentional effort.

In reflecting on my talk with Kurt, books I’ve read, and other conversations I’ve had on this topic, I came up with five steps that we parents can take to be intentional about raising a confident kid:

  1. Let him take risks. In a world of helicopter parents, we have to be intentional about letting our kids learn to deal with life without having to buffer them from any and all frustration, pain, conflict, or difficulty. No kid will learn confidence if Mommy and Daddy are always there to catch them before they fall. Part of being confident is knowing how to face challenges. (One great resource for learning to let your kids take appropriate risks is the book and blog Free Range Kids – highly recommended).
  2. Teach her that competence breeds confidence. Sure, raw talent can be an advantage, but hard work can make all the difference when facing conflict or competition. When you are well-studied and well-practiced, you can rely on the confidence that your training has prepared you for what you are about to face. When you’ve put in the work, you will be more confident in your ability to produce results (and an added bonus: hard work will add to your talent level).
  3. Teach him the difference between confidence and cockiness. Sometimes, the line between confidence and cockiness is very thin. When you are truly confident, you do not need to rely on arrogance to prove yourself, your results will speak for themselves.
  4. Give him challenges, not easy wins. Kids hate to lose. Most of them would rather challenge little brother to a wrestling match than challenge big brother. Many adults think that a child’s self-esteem is built on achievement, no matter what level of difficulty. As a former teacher, I found that belief only produces a false, thin veneer of confidence — one that crumbled when facing a real challenge. Instead of letting them win because you don’t want to make them feel bad, encourage them to keep trying until they really beat you. Facing an easy challenge may feel good for a short time, but pushing through big challenges is where deep, lasting confidence is shaped.
  5. Show her confidence by being confident. I’ll be honest, this is a hard one for me; I’m not naturally a confident person. If you want your child to develop confidence, you have to be willing to model that confidence in your own life. How can you encourage your child to take risks when all you ever do is play it safe? Does your child see you opting for the easy wins instead of the tough challenges? I’m a firm believer that a parent’s words are far less effective than his or her actions. I can name a dozen things in my life where I lack the confidence that I want my son to have. If it’s important enough to teach your kid, shouldn’t it be important enough for you to tackle as well?

Do you have any tips to add to my list? Leave a comment below.



Who knew this being-a-dad gig would be so challenging? Not only am I learning how to handle the never-ending changes that naturally come with raising a child, I’m also being forced to continually look at myself through your eyes. Sometimes I don’t like what I see. Oftentimes I feel unprepared to have you follow in my footsteps. But I know that this journey of fatherhood is not an easy win, so I will do my best to face the future with confidence. I won’t do everything right — far from it — but I promise that I will continue to challenge myself and, in the process, challenge you to be a better, more confident man.

2012 Generosity Project

Giving is gratitude in action. This Christmas, I thought it would be nice to try out a little mini-project I’ve been rolling over in my brain for a few years. I call it the 2012 Generosity Project, and I would love it if you would consider being involved.

The idea is pretty simple: as you’re out and about this Christmas season, look for some opportunities to show some unexpected generosity to a stranger. It can be as simple as buying coffee for the next person in line or it can be something more significant like having your kids pick another family at the restaurant where you’re having dinner, and paying their bill. Perhaps you could leave a jar of homemade spiced tea mix (a Gray family specialty) and leave it on your neighbor’s doorstep. The opportunities are endless.

Then, in order to keep the ball rolling, I have made a business card-sized note that you can pass along to the recipient of your generosity in hopes of inspiring them to do the same for others. I’ve also included a link back to this post where givers and recipients alike can tell the story of their involvement in the 2012 Generosity Project. How exciting to read the different ways that people choose to be generous this Christmas.

So what do you think? Are you in?

If so, you can download and print the 2012 Generosity Project card, or if you are interested in playing a bigger role, contact me directly and I can mail you up to 25 of the custom cards I printed up. These are thick, high quality cards, and I will mail them to you for free.

Also, don’t forget to tell your story by leaving a comment below!

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!



Even though your four year old vision of Christmas is Santa bringing you that telescope you asked him for and getting to go sledding at Grandma’s, I hope you grow each year to see that the Christmas spirit really is more about giving than getting. The world has commercialized Christmas, and on some levels I have no problem with that, but if you let the “things” of Christmas overshadow the meaning, then no amount of presents under the tree will bring you the joy that Christmas should bring. Show gratitude by being generous. Read the stories below of people who were generous this year.

One Disneyland Map, Two 10 Year-Olds, No Parents

One of the most challenging books I have read on parenting is Free-Range Kids: How to Raise Safe, Self-reliant Children, by Lenore Skenazy. Modern-day parents live in a world where worrying is billed as one of the most essential character traits of good parenting. Skenazy argues in her book that this obsession with overprotecting our kids is a relatively new development in child rearing — and she challenges parents to take a reasoned look at whether our safety-crazed culture is actually beneficial to our kids.

As I read this book, I began to think about how I might apply the ideas/challenges within it to Harrison as he grows. The central story in Free-Range Kids is one where Skenazy allows her nine year-old son to travel from Bloomingdale’s in New York City all the way home (using busses and the subway system) by himself. As in all alone — with no parents or other adult chaperones. He was nine, and he was flying solo.

This was something that her son had asked to do for some time, so it’s not like she just dropped him off and wished him luck. He knew how to ride the subway, he knew how to read public transportation route maps, and he wanted to do it on his own. People called her the “Worst Mom in America” for allowing her son to do this. Her book is an explanation of the worldview behind her choice to allow her son so much freedom — and it’s very compelling.

Since reading this book, I have been looking for ways to allow my son to experience age-appropriate levels of independence, and you’d be amazed at how hard it has been to fight against the prevailing winds of culture. I recently began to wonder what it would be like to have been in Skenazy’s shoes, how it would feel to actually allow my nine year-old to do something at that level of independence and self-reliance. Then I began to wonder what — specifically — that would look like in our lives. We don’t live in New York, so allowing my son to do what Skenazy’s son experienced would be irresponsible of me. But what would be our New York subway excursion?

Well, I think I’ve found it.

Heidi and I have talked this over and we have resolved that, when Harrison is about 10 years-old, we will take a trip to Disneyland with him and a friend; we will enter the park together, take family pictures at the Mickey-head flower bed, and then we’ll send the two of them off with a Disneyland map and $20 each (adjusted for inflation, of course). They will be free to explore the place that Walt Disney built for kids, as kids.

I’m sure many people will think this is crazy. To be quite honest, I’m not even sure if Disneyland would allow it. But every time I see the picture below of children running through the archway of Sleeping Beauty Castle for the very first time in 1955, I can’t help but hope that Disney still encourages the mixture of wonder and adventure that these kids had on opening day:

Talk about free-range kids. I can only see one adult, and I’m pretty sure he’s a Cast Member, dressed as one of the Knights of Camelot. How many of these kids do you think were abducted, injured, or otherwise harmed?


All we have to do now is wait until Harrison is 10, then we’ll get the chance to put our money where our mouth is. If you are a Disney Executive and would like to offer us a few practice runs over the next few years, we’d be happy to accept. Actually, if you do work for one of the Disney parks, I’d love to hear your thoughts on this. Does Disney allow self-relient, well-behaved children to explore the park unsupervised like they did in Walt’s day?

As for the rest of you, I’d love your feedback as well:

What are your thoughts on this idea? Would you take this challenge with your kid?



I’m not going to lie, this plan gives my stomach equal amounts of excitement and nervousness. This time we live in as parents is a very untrusting, skeptical era — one that wants parents to control and supervise children at all times. But Mom and I want to push past our worries and allow you to live your own adventure. If we try to make sure that nothing ever happens to you, then nothing will ever happen to you. Live your adventure, we promise to try not to stifle the independent spirit that lives in you as it does in each of us.

Never More Than One Generation Away

Even though I love politics, I have been very intentional about keeping this blog free from the polarizing battles that political discussions tend to bring. But when I sit back and think about important things I want to pass on to my son, I can’t help but feel that avoiding politics outright means I am holding back some potentially valuable lessons. Politics is part of life, so shouldn’t life lessons include politics?

The specific inspiration for this post did not come about because of the thick, acrimonious political climate hanging in the air during the height of this election season; it did not come from an argument I witnessed between the ever-talking heads on the 24-hour news cycles; this post is simply inspired by a quote I read today. It’s one I’ve read and heard before, but today it struck me right between the eyes:

“Freedom is never more than one generation away from extinction. We didn’t pass it to our children in the bloodstream. It must be fought for, protected, and handed on for them to do the same.”

~ Ronald Reagan

What a powerful and sobering statement! If we do not instill a love for liberty in the lives of our children, we will most certainly be contributing to the erosion of their future freedom and prosperity — to the point of possible extinction. What a dark world it would be to live in where there is no freedom.

What I am beginning to learn as I grow older is that freedom is not the default setting in human nature. We instinctively want to control others and/or have our needs met for us. Just turn on a TV and you will see what I mean. Government keeps expanding, taking over more and more of what we as citizens should want to do for ourselves — feeding and providing for our families, earning a living through some form of ennobling work, caring for the needy in our community, etc. And if the government is not encroaching on our ability/drive to provide for ourselves, we citizens are going to them to demand that they provide for us certain freebies — including everything from 100% student loan forgiveness to the cost for our elective medical prescriptions.

The U.S. government was not created to provide for it’s people, it was created to protect our freedoms so that we could be free to provide for ourselves. Has that idea been lost completely?

Another alarming trend is that people of all political persuasions are increasingly turning differences of opinion into ugly battles, bent on trying to destroy anyone with a viewpoint different from their own. If “Company A” supports “Cause A” and some of its customers don’t agree with it, the modern disgruntled American citizen takes that so personally that he/she begins to form groups, organize protests, and take legal measures dedicated to putting “Company A” out of business. Out of business. Because of a difference in opinion. Is that really what we want our society to become?

We can look with contempt at violent riots in the Middle East over obscure, considerably mild insults, but are we really that far away from those people in the way we react to those with whom we disagree? There was a time when I would say “Thank God we don’t handle disagreements by rioting in the streets, destroying property, and injuring others,” but I’m not so sure I can make that claim anymore because prominent, well-supported groups in the U.S. have begun doing just that.

Living in freedom can be a difficult balancing act, but if we allow hurt feelings over personal differences and politically-charged destruction-minded responses to disagreements to win the day, then freedom is doomed. Living free means allowing others to live free as well. You will never agree with everyone’s beliefs, and not everyone will agree with yours. That’s okay. That’s what it means to be free.



I don’t want my love of liberty to die with me. I want to teach you what it means to love liberty — liberty for yourself, your future family, and for others in your community and around the world. I don’t know what America will be like when you are my age, but the trends I see today concern me. People will tell you that your rights are granted by the government, that the government can and should provide for your needs and the needs of those around you. That’s wrong. Always remember that your liberty, your rights, your freedom, is a God-given gift, and that the government should never be your provider. If you’re ever unclear about the role of freedom and government, take some time to read our nation’s founding documents. They hold a lot of wisdom.

“We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness. — That to secure these rights, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed…”

~ Excerpt from the Declaration of Independence

Tee Ball

This week, Harrison had his very first tee ball game. The fact that he is starting to play organized sports just blows me away. He’s just getting so big. Harrison is the youngest kid on the team, but he seems to be enjoying himself (despite the 108° field temperature).

Here are a few highlights:

Harrison’s team is the Pirates. Hopefully the professional team’s lack of success isn’t an indication of how our season will go.


The starting lineup. He’s on a team of 7 boys and 3 girls, ages 4 or 5.


He’s a handsome kid, no?


His first hit was great! His response time between hitting and deciding to run to first base was about 20 seconds. We’re still working on the hit-and-run concept.


His first position was right field. As you can tell by his demeanor, very few 4 and 5 year olds can hit it to the outfield.


For his second inning in the field, he scored the shortstop position.


Ground ball! Fortunately, our team was pretty good about not “swarming” around the ball.


Now he’s got it and he’s not sure where to throw the ball. First base? Second? Where’s my snow cone?

Dinner, Dogs, and Dinos

It’s not very often that Mom isn’t home for a whole evening, but the annual Parent Tea kickoff for Greatleaps Preschool took her away and gave us males a great opportunity to rock the y chromosome together at our semi-regular “We Are Boys” Night, complete with dinner, dogs, and dinos:

And here are a few photos of the Jurassic Park Train Expedition we built. I’ll be honest, there was some dino-on-snake violence, and the train derailed more than a few times and the dinosaurs feasted on imaginary human remains from the resulting carnage. What can I say? We are boys!



I am in awe that, without any guidance or prompting from me, you intentionally crashed the train and then had the dinosaurs come in and finish off the survivors. I suppose some people would want me to be appalled and take you in for early intervention counseling, but I’m proud. I remember telling Mom years before you were born that I wasn’t sure I wanted a boy. If I could go back in time, I’d slap myself. Thank you for showing me how wrong I was.

Pixar Parenting Tips: Brave

Pixar stepped into the spotlight in 1995 when it released its first full-length animated movie, “Toy Story”. Since then, Pixar has grown to be one of the most powerful movie studios in the world and has produced three of the highest grossing animated movies of all time. While their animation has always been cutting-edge and visually stunning, I think the biggest reason for their box office success is their ability to tell a great story, and I have found that many of their films touch on salient lessons for parents.

[Read more...]

There’s Been a Change of Plan

The hospital room felt unusually cold and impersonal. The dark cloud that now settled over us at the end of the maternity wing had all but extinguished the fire of excitement we felt earlier in the day.

As my wife and I sat together in stunned silence, I thought about the finished nursery that awaited us back at home. Heidi and I had put the final touches on it only a few days ago in eager anticipation of our long-awaited baby boy. I envisioned the crib sitting against the far wall decorated with new blue and brown sheets and plush, comfy blankets. I could hear the mobile softly playing its lullaby as the matching blue and brown stars danced slowly in circles. The changing table and dresser sat against the opposite wall filled with new clothes, toys, and diapers that our friends and family gave us as shower gifts.

When I considered the possibility that the two of us may be returning home to an empty nursery, a lump began to form in my throat.

Heidi just stared out the window, her face expressionless. The emotional capital we had spent throughout this process seemingly rendered both of us unable to cry.

Like many other couples, Heidi and I started our marriage with the ideal plan for having children. We knew when we wanted to start trying, how many we wanted, how far apart we wanted them, and what we would call them once we had them. We wistfully imagined having the perfect mix of boys and girls and decided it would be best to try and avoid having any two children in diapers at the same time. By our standards, we had the perfect family plan in place.

But God had a different plan.

As a young and healthy married couple, the thought of having to fight a battle against infertility was one of the furthest things from our minds. Somewhere in the midst of five years of unsuccessfully trying to conceive children (and all the medication, anticipation, and frustration that goes along with infertility), we had come to realize that we were a bit naïve to think that we really had control over our family plan.

Prayer quickly became a regular hallmark in our struggle to start a family. Eventually, we realized that the only thing we could realistically control is whether or not we put our trust completely in God and accept the fact the His plan is more perfect than ours. We decided that we would be patient and wait for God’s timing – and we definitely waited.

Back in the hospital room, I tried to ignore the growing sense of despair that I felt welling up inside me. A few hours earlier we were certain that our thousands of prayers had been answered, but now we were forced to confront the unsettling possibility that we may lose the very child who we were sure was our long-awaited answer.

I tried my best to stay positive and I kept reminding Heidi that we put this entire situation in God’s hands long ago and that he wasn’t going to bring us this far just to take everything away.

Just then, a woman walked through the door with a bleak look on her face and gave us the news we had been dreading.

“There’s been a change of plan…”

Six Weeks Earlier

My wife and I were living life just like any other couple struggling through infertility. We had already bounced back and forth between medical tests, and pinpointed the cause — my inability to create properly-formed sperm. Testosterone therapy had actually created more problems, and we were now forced to consider other options. IVF and IUI were not feasible because I had 0% viable sperm, and we were not comfortable with the idea of using a sperm donor. Adoption seemed to be our best option.

Strangely, within a few days of deciding to look into adoption, we got a call from my dad — the pastor of a church in Salt Lake City, Utah. He told us that he got a phone call from a local lawyer asking him if he knew of any couples looking to be a part of a private adoption. They had a 17 year old girl coming in a few days to look over portfolios and choose a family. In over 25 years of being a pastor, he never had a call like that. We hadn’t told anyone of our decision to begin the adoption process, so when my dad called he had no idea how we’d respond.

The timing was too perfect; we couldn’t pass it up.

24 hours later, we overnighted a Pinterest-worthy portfolio that Heidi and her sister whipped up in record time. 48 hours later, we got a call that the birth mom would like to meet us. Within a week, we were flying to Utah to meet a girl who very well could end up being an answer to our thousands of prayers.

The meeting went well and she seemed to really click with us. She said that she was also meeting with a couple that she knew from church, but that she really thought we were the ones she was going to pick. We were elated. Finally, it seemed that our struggling had come to an end.

Shortly after we returned home, Heidi’s grandfather died and she flew to Pennsylvania with her family to attend the funeral. While they were gone, I received a call from the birth mom’s adoption advocate. This was it — the call we had been waiting for. I was excited as I answered the phone.

“Hi Michael, this is Kelly, Natalie’s adoption advocate. She asked me to call and let you know that she decided to adopt her baby out to another couple. I’m sorry.”

I was floored. Even though we knew that this was a possibility, we really had the sense that everything was happening so perfectly, and that this baby was meant for us. We had been patient. We had paid our dues. This was supposed to be our time.

I thanked Kelly for calling and hung up the phone with a heavy sigh. Now I had to break the news to Heidi — two thousand miles away at her grandfather’s funeral.

That was a tough call to make.

A day later, Heidi was back home and we were back to square one on our family-planning journey. Our hearts were heavy with disappointment. We talked about how it seemed clear that adoption would prove to be every bit the roller coaster ride that infertility had been. One thing was for certain: we had learned a poignant lesson on guarding our hearts.

A day or two after our “guarded hearts” conversation, Heidi got a text message from Natalie asking if she could call us. We said yes. When she called, she explained that she hadn’t been able to sleep since making her decision and told us that the only reason she picked the other couple was that they pressured her and she caved. She knew she had to follow her heart, and she was calling to set things straight.

“I want you two to be the ones who adopt my baby,” she said.

Heidi and I just looked at each other, dumbfounded. The emotional roller coaster had pulled back into the loading station, and we were taking our place in the front seats.

Sunday, June 1

“There’s been a change of plan…”

The baby had been born earlier that afternoon and Heidi and I had spent about 15 minutes holding him before they took him into the nursery to warm up under an infant heating lamp. Natalie seemed comfortable with us being there and was very accommodating with allowing us into her room to meet the baby, but we had already encountered a few roadblocks.

Originally, we were supposed to get the second medical bracelet that allowed us access to the nursery, but Natalie’s mom, who had nothing to do with her during the pregnancy, had suddenly shown up and somehow convinced Natalie to give the bracelet to her instead. Fortunately, the nursing staff was aware of the subterfuge by the magically-appearing birth mom’s mom and made an exception for us (with Natalie’s consent, of course).

We allowed Natalie’s mom to have her time with the baby in the nursery, but eventually Natalie’s dad (who was her sole support during the pregnancy and who was also an advocate of adoption) talked his ex wife into leaving the nursery so that we could have some time of our own.


That time was particularly special for Heidi and me. For about an hour, we had the chance to hold him, give him his first bath, and I even fed him his first bottle. We took pictures. We marveled at his tiny toes, and smiled as he clutched my finger in his little hand. We held him up proudly to the nursery window so that my parents could see their first grandbaby. For that hour, we were supremely happy. Then they took the baby back to Natalie’s room.


Later that afternoon, when Kelly told us about the change of plan, we knew it wasn’t good news for us.

“Natalie wants you to know that she is still 100% confident in this adoption,” Kelly explained, “but she wanted me to ask you if you would go home now and let her have one night with him instead of him staying with you in the nursery like we originally planned. Then, tomorrow morning you can come back and she’ll sign the adoption papers.”

We both got the knot-in-the-pit-of-your-stomach feeling as we once again began experiencing the familiar pangs of fleeting hopes. We didn’t like this change of plan one bit, but what could we do? This was still her baby. If we wanted any chance of adopting this child, we needed to follow Natalie’s lead. So we did.


Continue reading Part II of “There’s Been a Change of Plan”

Monday, June 2

The next day, we arrived at the hospital around 8:00 in the morning. While it was difficult to have to leave him overnight, we felt good about allowing Natalie to have the time she needed with the baby. Giving a child up for adoption is such a huge sacrifice for a birth mother; the least we could do is be sensitive to Natalie’s separation process.


The second day was similar to the first. We spent a few hours in the nursery and in Natalie’s room just talking and holding the baby. My mom also came with us and got to hold him for the first time. When the hospital photographer came in to take his first pictures, she asked Natalie what sort of photos she preferred. Natalie just pointed to us and said, “Ask them, they are his parents.” Things seemed to be going well, and we were confident that Natalie was going to sign the adoption papers that afternoon as planned.


But we were blissfully unaware of the storm clouds that were beginning to gather again.

Natalie’s mother was always around, but would never talk to us or even stay in the hospital room when we were there. Kelly told us later that the mom had actually been sowing some seeds of uncertainty in Natalie’s decision to adopt. She would say encouraging things like, “I’ll help you raise this baby. We can do it together,” or she would try to make her second guess our fitness as parents by saying things like, “How do you know that they won’t abuse this baby?”

After Heidi and I returned from lunch, we were asked to wait in the waiting room while Natalie and her family said their goodbyes and she signed the adoption papers. After waiting for about an hour, Kelly entered the room with the same uneasy look she had about 24 hours earlier.

“Ok guys, there’s been another change of plan,” she started.

We stared at her in disbelief.

“Since she won’t be discharged until tomorrow morning, Natalie would like to keep him for one last night, and then you can meet us here tomorrow, she’ll sign the adoption papers, and you can take the baby home. She’s still 100% confident in this adoption, she just wants to spend a little more time with him.”

It was happening again, and again we swallowed back the sense of uncertainty that was rising up inside us. We left the hospital and returned home empty-handed for the second time in as many days.

Tuesday, June 3

The next morning, as we were pulling into the hospital parking garage, my phone rang. Kelly’s name was on the caller ID. Heidi and I looked at each other, both with a glint of dread in our eyes. I answered.

“Michael, are you and Heidi at the hospital yet?”

“Yes, we just parked the car and are about to head up to the room,” I said.

Kelly paused. “Ummmm…don’t come up,” she said, her voice obviously full of pain and frustration for having to deliver more bad news. “Natalie is planning on taking the baby home with her. She wants to take him to her sister’s graduation and let her friends see him.”

“What is happening here, Kelly?” I asked with a mix of despair and frustration. “Is she deciding to keep this baby?”

“I really don’t know, Michael. She keeps talking like adoption is still her ultimate plan, but she keeps doing things like this that will only make it harder. I can tell you that she’s having a very hard time letting him go. I am doing everything I can to remind her of the original plans we keep making and changing, but in the end it has to be her decision. I can’t force her to go through with it. I’ll keep trying to reason with her, and I’ll be in touch as soon as I know anything new.”

“I’m so sorry about this,” Kelly added. “I know this has to be heartbreaking for you two.”

She was right — we were heartbroken.

We drove home in silence, both painfully aware of the empty baby seat sitting in the back of the car.

When we got home, my parents met us at the door, excited to see the new baby. When they saw the expression on our faces my mom asked, “What happened?”

All Heidi could get out was, “She took him home,” before she broke down for the first time in this entire process.

After all we’d been through, the idea of Natalie taking the baby home with her seemed like a deal-breaker. Despite that, Natalie still committed to signing the adoption papers at the courthouse the next day, then giving the baby to Kelly who would bring him to us. All we could do was hope that this plan was the one that would succeed.

Wednesday, June 4

Kelly always called my cell phone when she had bad news.

“Michael, I just left the courthouse,” she said. “The judge asked Natalie if she was ready to sign the adoption papers, and all Natalie could do was sit there and cry. After a few minutes, the judge said that he could not continue with the adoption paperwork unless he was certain that the birth mother was ready to do so. So basically, we still don’t have a signature, and Natalie is taking him home again.”

We both knew it was over.

The rest of that morning was a blur of depression and sadness for all of us. Though the weather during the previous week had been sunny and pleasant, a dark thunderstorm rolled into town as if to punctuate our dreary experience with the weather to match.

Later that afternoon, Heidi’s phone rang. It was Kelly.

“Heidi, I know today has been very tough for you, but I just talked to Natalie. She wanted me to call and see if you would be willing to pick the baby up from her house, keep him overnight at your house, and then bring him back at 10:00 tomorrow morning. She hasn’t slept well in a few days, and she just needs some time to rest and to think this whole thing through.”

“I really don’t know if I can do that,” Heidi said, her voice shaking. “I can’t handle all of this back-and-forth. I’ve eaten nothing but dry toast and mint tea for three days, my nerves can’t take much more.”

“I know what you’re going through,” Kelly said. This wasn’t just some clichéd response, she really did know what we were going through. Many years ago, she and her husband were in an adoption where the birth mom had a sudden change of heart and left them with broken hearts.

“Before I call Natalie back, I want you and Michael to take some time to think and pray about this. I really believe that Natalie needs some time to think, and she can’t do that with an infant. You guys can give her a break and also show her that you are confident and capable parents.”

Heidi hung up the phone and we discussed our options. While we really didn’t like the idea of rubbing salt on our already-frayed emotional wounds, we decided that if this 17 year old girl needed a free night in order to make the right decision for her baby, then we would give it to her — even if it meant that we might still fly home to an empty nursery.

When we arrived to pick the baby up for the night, Natalie asked us if we would bathe him because she didn’t know how. He was still in his hospital onesie, and we placed him gently in our car seat because Natalie didn’t have one of her own to let us use.

Despite the frustration we were feeling, we both had tremendous sympathy for this girl. She obviously wanted the best for her child, but she didn’t have the experience, resources, or support to do it by herself (and the mom who caused so much uncertainty at the hospital was, ironically, nowhere to be found). Even if she decided to keep him, we realized that what we were doing that night was a worthwhile thing to do — if only for the sake of helping a young single mom who was hurting.

We took the baby home, cuddled him, kissed him, fed him, bathed him, and put him in one of the new outfits our friends had given us as a shower gift. We got up every two hours that night to feed him, we changed his diapers, and basically lived for a few hours like any parents of a newborn would. Except this baby was going back to his home the next morning.


Heidi amazed me that night. She had gone through three of the hardest, most draining days of her life, but still jumped into the role of mother without batting an eye. She didn’t hold the baby and weep all night or walk around in a state of depression, she just mothered. And she did it with such joy and ease. She cared for this child like it was her very own, as if none of the events of the past few days had ever happened.

The only thing that wasn’t completely natural in her mothering was the way she referred to the baby. We had a name picked out for him weeks before, but Heidi never used it because he was not ours to name. He still belonged to Natalie, and she called him Abraham. Heidi simply called him, “The Baby”. Even though she was happy at being able to care for this child, Heidi was still mindful to guard her heart.

Thursday, June 5

We called Natalie at 9:30 the next morning to see if she was ready for us to drop the baby off at 10:00 like we had planned, but her phone went to voicemail. We called a few more times and got her voicemail each time, so we finally left her a message. At about 10:15, she called us back and said that we could keep him until noon and bring him back then. We gladly accepted the extra two hours.

At Natalie’s house, we talked about what was going to come next. For the first time since the baby was born, she admitted to us that she was not sure what she wanted to do. She said that a part of her wanted to keep him, but she just didn’t know if she was prepared to care for and raise a baby.

Very calmly and confidently, Heidi looked at her and said, “Natalie, I want you to know that if you choose to go through with this adoption, I am ready to care for and raise this baby.” She wasn’t pressuring her in any way, she was just letting her know that we were prepared to give this baby all the love and care we could.

Natalie just nodded, tears in her eyes.

Before we left, we gave her a hug and told her that we would pray for her as she made the final decision. Heidi and I were scheduled to fly out the next afternoon and she knew her timeframe for making a decision was diminishing quickly. She asked us if we would come to the courthouse the next day, and wait in the car until after she appeared again before the judge.

This was it. Either way, Heidi and I were flying back to Phoenix in 24 hours. Whether we returned home with a child was a decision that only Natalie could make.

Friday, June 6

At this point, we had no expectations. Our meeting with Natalie the day before didn’t give us a solid indication one way or another. The difficult five days since the baby was born had worn away all the excitement and euphoric feelings of that first day, and we now faced the raw reality that the future of this child hung between a birth mom who loves him very much, and a pair of adoptive parents who have been praying for him for years.

Whatever happened, someone was losing a baby today. And that realization made us sad.

We sat in the parking lot of the courthouse just staring out the windshield. We didn’t talk much. We couldn’t even pray. At this point there was nothing more that could be said to each other or to God, so we just sat there quietly.

The silence was soon broken by ringing of Kelly’s call. This time it was Heidi’s phone.

“She did it. She signed the papers!” Kelly said with a mix of excitement and relief. “I am so proud of her. She walked into the court room without tears and confidently told the judge that she was choosing adoption.”

This was the same court she cried in two days before and the judge wanted to make sure she was not being coerced into adoption. He asked her why she had a change of heart, and Natalie simply said that she realized how hard it was to care for a baby, and she didn’t think that she was ready to do it by herself. Confident that her answer was genuine, the judge allowed her to sign and awarded us custody of the baby.

Heidi met Natalie and Kelly on the courthouse steps. They talked for a minute or so, and Natalie said her goodbyes to the baby boy she carried in her womb for 9 months. She was making a sacrifice that no mother wants to make, but she did it willingly because she loved her child. The hell we all had to endure to get to this point only helped us realize the true cost of this moment.

Through tears, Heidi thanked her, hugged her, and promised that we would love and raise this baby to the best of our ability. She also promised that we would continue to pray for her (a promise we still keep to this day).

With that, Heidi turned toward the car and started carrying our son — Harrison — home.

At last.



You came to us at a very high price. Not a price defined by a dollar amount, but a price defined by the sheer amount of emotional and spiritual capital invested in you during the first week of your life. I don’t tell you this to make you feel guilty, I say it so that you will always know your value. We celebrate your birthday every year, but we also celebrate your “Gotcha Day”. Now you know why.

This post has been submitted to the YeahWrite #62 blogging challenge and was also part of the YeahWrite #61 hangout grid. If you are interested in connecting with other bloggers or are simply interested in lurking on other blogs, the writing grids are a great resource.

This post is also part of the inaugural running of the Dude Write bulls.