As someone who has always been captivated by the power of stories, I’ve found that writing is not just a passion but a way to connect deeply with the human experience. My journey has led me to a career where stories are at the heart of everything I do. Each day, I witness the resilience, hope, and love that define the paths of those seeking to create families. It’s a privilege that inspires me to document and reflect on these moments, sharing the profound beauty and complexity of life through words.
There’s a quiet in my office every morning before the day begins. The kind of quiet that feels alive, humming with unspoken stories. The walls, lined with photographs of babies cradled in grateful arms, remind me why I do this. Each picture tells a journey of hope fulfilled.
The day begins with a virtual meeting. On the screen, there’s often hesitation. A woman who’s tried everything. A same-sex couple longing for a family. A single parent defying convention. The details vary, but the core remains the same: hope wrapped in fear, longing steeped in doubt.
Today, it’s Julia and Michael. She speaks first, her voice trembling. “We’ve tried everything. Nothing has worked. We don’t know where else to turn.” Michael’s voice joins hers, steady but heavy with unspoken sorrow. I listen, jotting down fragments of their story. I tell them, “You’ve taken the first step by calling us. You’re not alone anymore.”
The day moves forward in a rhythm I know well. Meetings with donors, surrogates, and intended parents reveal stories of generosity and resilience. A young woman, barely twenty-five, explains why she wants to be a surrogate. “I’ve been lucky. I want to give that to someone else.” Her selflessness humbles me.
Back in my office, the hum of quiet returns. The photographs on the walls catch the fading sunlight. I’m tired, but it’s a good kind of tired—the kind that comes from knowing you’ve done something meaningful.
Not every day is like this. There are days when matches fall through or hope cracks under disappointment. But I remind myself why I started this journey: for the Julias and Michaels, for the babies who will grow up in homes once filled with silence, and for the surrogates and donors whose generosity changes lives.
As I lock up for the night, I take one last look at the photographs. They’re not just pictures; they’re proof that hope, no matter how fragile, is worth holding onto. In a world often divided, creating families is a testament to our shared humanity.
