Life Update #2
Where do I even begin?!
Honestly, it’s been one of those weeks. I feel like I blinked and a whole season of life aired in a single week. So let’s rewind to July 2025. In just a few days, Star asked big questions about family dynamics, Shannon (the stepmom) gave birth to her second baby, and we did our egg retrieval. Yes—all of that in one week.
Let’s start with the egg-citing stuff 🥚✨
If you read my earlier post, you probably caught a whiff of my nerves and anticipation around the whole process. But this week, we officially entered the next step of our Reciprocal IVF journey (a.k.a. R-IVF for those in the know). Basically, it means one partner provides the eggs while the other carries the pregnancy. I recently learned the actual name for it, so look at me being all educated now.
Since June 26th, my wife has been on hormone stimulation meds—ridiculously expensive ones, by the way—and she hates needles. Like, hates them. So guess who had the honors of stabbing her with three different injections every day? Yep. Nurse Jackie in the house.
Even though it didn’t seem like a long round of meds, I could see it was wearing on her physically. She powered through it like a champ, and I don’t think I can thank her enough for that sacrifice. I say that like she donated a kidney for science—but for real, watching someone you love go through pain is never easy. She did it with so much grace.
Egg retrieval day came, and I was stupidly excited. I tried to keep it cool because I knew she’d need all my support—and sure enough, she knocked out for the rest of the day once we got home. Deserved! They retrieved 27 eggs, which sounds amazing (though, full transparency, I don’t really know the average... I just know it feels impressive!). We’re young, and our odds are the best they’ll ever be, so we’re holding onto that hope as we now wait the grueling three weeks while they fertilize and test the embryos.
Manifesting a good mix of boys and girls in that Petri dish, y’all. I can hear my ovaries cheering from the sidelines. LMAO.
Now… onto the complicated feelings section 🫣
So. Shannon just had her second daughter, and while I’m not here to make a thing out of nothing, I’d be lying if I said my eyebrows didn’t shoot up when I heard the baby’s full name. Specifically, the middle name.
They gave her the same middle name as our daughter—Marie.
Now, before you roll your eyes, yes, I know “Marie” is a common middle name. I’m not trying to gatekeep it like it’s a rare gem. But here’s the kicker: on my wife’s maternal side, it’s been a generational tradition. Firstborn daughters get Marie as their middle name. It’s not just cute—it’s meaningful. So it feels…off. Like, really? That name?
To add some context, our daughter has two middle names. One of them was chosen by her dad, and honestly, he can reuse it if he wants—it’s his choice. But Marie? That’s the name with heritage and weight. It just stung to see it used again so casually.
Anyway, moving on.
Here’s the part that really flips the script: Shannon, who was a full-blown Momzilla during her last pregnancy, is now... calm? Kind? Cooperative?? I don’t even know what’s happening. She’s suddenly open to co-parenting and behaving like she’s on a mommy makeover show. It’s honestly wild. But hey—I’m enjoying the lack of drama and not having to follow a rigid schedule just to see my own kid. We’ll take the win where we can get it.
Oh, and this is too good not to mention: I already have a name picked out for a future daughter, if that’s what we end up having. And the middle name? It’s the same as Shannon’s first daughter. I know, irony much? I swear it’s been picked out for three years. But it’s also deeply meaningful—both of our grandmothers were named Rose, so we thought it’d be a beautiful tribute to the strongest women in our lives (second only to our moms, of course). Funny how life works out, huh?
Star asks some big questions
Now for the best part of the week: a deep, beautiful, slightly mind-bending conversation with Star.
She brought up siblings—and whether future babies would be her “siblings” (yes, with air quotes). Which, by the way, is not something most eight-year-olds just do. The use of air quotes made me pause, because kids that age usually mimic behavior they’ve seen or been taught. So yeah, my brain immediately went: who coached this?
Anyway, she asked, “When you have a baby, they’ll be my ‘sibling’ but not my sibling, right?” And wow, I had to take a second. Where did that wording come from?
I reassured her that yes—our baby will be her sibling. No air quotes needed.
She went on to explain her confusion about how siblings work when you’re not genetically related, and honestly, she kind of spiraled in the most adorable child-logic way. I had to mentally flip through every parenting book, movie, and cartoon I've ever consumed before landing on a metaphor I hoped would make sense:
We’re all colors.
Her dad is red. Her mom is yellow. When they mixed, they got orange—her!
Then Dad met Shannon (blue), and together they made purple.
Mom met Austin (also blue), and together they made green.
And now, with my wife and I? We’re both yellow. So we asked someone to share a color to help us make a new color.
After processing that with great intensity, she gave me a slow, head-scratching “Ohhhh... I kinda get it.” Which, honestly, is a huge win. She’ll probably understand more as she grows, but I’m proud of how we handled that moment together.
I just wanted to be so intentional with the language I used—because the last thing I want is to accidentally make her feel like there’s an “us and them” in our family. Family isn’t always about shared DNA—it’s about love, commitment, and the wild ride of building something beautiful together.
So yeah. July’s been… a lot. But I’m hopeful. 2024 was rough. Healing doesn’t always look like calm seas—but these little moments? They feel like sunshine after a storm. ☀️