Posted in Infertility


She turned to me at dinner, her eyes locked on mine.

katie 2

Can I tell you something, Mommy?

Her face, so vulnerable, so engaged.

Every night, after you and Daddy tuck me in, I sit up in bed, I fold my hands and I pray.

It’s funny how you think you know everything there is to know about your child, until you don’t.

What do you pray for, Katie? I asked.

I thank God for the love in my heart and the sunshine.

I thank him for you and for Daddy.

And for Matthew.

And I tell him that if he gives our family a baby to love, my heart will be so, so full.

Her words, her innocence and her belief that the right combination of words to the right person would somehow bring what she so hopes for, leveled me.

In that moment, I couldn’t tell her that her daddy and I tried praying.

We tried science.

We tried hoping.

And still, we failed.

How will I ever convey to her just how much we wanted… still want… the very thing that she prays for each night?

How will I tell her that we eventually stopped hoping?

How can I tell her that when, after all this time, I can barely admit it to myself?

Loose gravel

I stand here in the same spot I’ve stood in for twenty-nine months now.

Occasionally, I’ve paced.

Always, I’ve hoped.

But I’ve stood here on solid ground.

Twenty-nine months of trying for just one more baby.

If I inch close to the edge of the hill, there’s a patch of loose gravel.

And I know that if I place my foot there, it will give way and I will tumble.

I have worried that if I give up hope and step on that patch, I may not survive the fall.

For all these months, I have avoided it.

Kept my distance.

But now, I’m inching closer.

With my toes, I push at the edge of the loose gravel and I watch the small stones tumble, gaining speed until they finally settle at the bottom of the hill.

The fall, while fast, ends peacefully.

I know that I can’t stand here forever.

I think that I’m ready to take that step.

And for the first time, I feel like once I reach the bottom, I will be okay.

Perhaps even better than okay.

A booth for four

You grasp my hand and pull me toward the booth where the hostess waits.

There is no longer any discussion of a high chair or booster seat.

You simply won’t have it.

You hoist yourself onto the seat, bounce two times for good measure.

The server greets us and you order milk, please and reach for the crayons.

Your milk arrives and I watch you lift it with hands that don’t yet reach all the way around the cold cup.

And you smile through the orange bendy straw.

I watch you and still can’t believe you’re mine.

Can’t believe how much I am not me without you.

You smile at your sister and without a word, she smiles back and hands you a red crayon, barely used.

Your eyes connect and there’s something there between the two of you that I can’t permeate.

So I watch in awe and gratitude.

Moments pass and I glance at your daddy who sees exactly what I see.

And I say to him, we’ll be okay. I know now. We’ll be more than okay.

All that we have: An anniversary letter

The London West Hollywood, The London West Hollywood bed, MacBook ProDear Craig,

As I write this, I’m sitting in my hotel bed, 400 miles away from you.

And in just less than an hour, it will be our anniversary.

But I am here and you are there.

And as much as it pains me to be away from you, I am here because of your endless, unwavering support, because you always encourage me to enjoy every amazing experience that comes my way.

I am so grateful that you not only love and believe in me, but that you buoy me as I explore my world.

The past year has been filled with things both amazing and challenging.

And while our days have been filled with incredible joy, heartache filled an unfathomable amount of space in our lives.

Thank you for remaining by my side through the weeks of optimism and the following weeks of disillusionment.

As we faced each new month with renewed hope for another baby, I was ever grateful to have you by my side.

As each cycle slipped through our fingers, I knew that I would crumble without you there.

And now, as we each come closer to accepting that we’ve likely reached the end of our infertility journey, I know that as long as you’re by my side, I will survive this.

We will survive this.

Thank you for continually reminding me that our love can withstand anything as long as we continue to approach our marriage with an honest heart.

Thank you for holding my hand when I cried and listening to me as I struggled to understand the whys.

And most of all, thank you for reminding me that we aren’t defined by what we don’t have…but rather, by all that we do.

I can’t imagine a day of my future without you in it.

And with your hand clasped firmly in mine, I’m certain that we’ll be fine.

Thank you for the gift of your love.

I love you beyond words,


The end of the world as we know it

So you know that feeling when life has finally fallen into a comfortable groove?

When you have a schedule, a sense of predictability and relative calm?

There’s only one cure for that.

Get a puppy.

Perhaps this is the first step on our journey to accepting that our prayers for another baby will go unanswered.

The idea of bringing another warm, cozy creature to love into our home has brought us to the decision to turn our life upside down.

We went in search of a breed that would be:

  • allergy friendly (I’m allergic)
  • low to no-shedding (because, duh)
  • intelligent
  • child friendly
  • calm (eventually)

That’s quite a list of requirements, right?

After looking at breed after breed, we decided upon a North American Retriever, or Double Doodle.

What’s that? Well, it’s complicated. Sort of.

It’s the result of breeding a labradoodle (labrador retriever and poodle) with a goldendoodle (golden retriever and poodle).

That’s a lot of oodle.

Once we found our breeder, and asked her a million and two questions, there was no turning back.

And yesterday, our sweet puppy was finally born!

One of these delicious babies will join our family on October 6th.

doubledoodle puppies, north american retriever puppies, newborn doubledoodles, double doodle puppies

It’s safe to say that I’ve looked at this photo no fewer than 812 times since we got it yesterday. Seriously…the cute is just too much!

So, for the next eight weeks, we’re going to do crazy things, like sleep, relax, NOT get up every two hours all night long only to stand outside and beg a puppy to pee already! (My lovely friend Tonya just brought her puppy home this week and I’m not sure if I want to talk with her or avoid her in these early days because she’s scaring me!)

And this is where I beg ask you for your tips and advice.

  • What do we need to know?
  • Do you know anyone who has a Double Doodle? Labradoodle? Goldendoodle?
  • What do you wish you’d known?
  • What is the best brand of earplugs to block out the sound of a yelping puppy? Kidding. Sort of.

If you’d like more information about Double Doodles, Labradoodles or Goldendoodles, I can’t recommend our breeder, Sierra Vista Labradoodles strongly enough. They continue to impress us with their knowledge, responsiveness, professionalism and kindness. You can see current litters by visiting their puppy page.

About me

Nichole Beaudry @NicholeBeaudry Location: Northern California
Each and every day, I strive to appreciate the wonder, beauty, and whimsy in the small moments, the moments that, when strung together, form a lifetime.
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