Small suitcases, big dreams
Hope is a family value
So, if you’ve been keeping score at home, Sophie and I are still chasing the dream of a big family, living somewhere between hopeful optimism and that quiet, “surely this month’s the month, right?” kind of faith. We’re halfway to our intended production targets, and you’d think by now we’d have learned a thing or two about hitting our quotas… but alas, we’re slow learners.
I remember when we had zero kids and would tell actual parents that we wanted four. Most would respond with some variation of, “Good luck with one.” It’s funny how none of those warnings, the exhaustion, the chaos, the sleep deprivation, ever scared us off.
Well… except maybe once. After Lola was born, Sophie was completely run down. She hit that point where she realized she would never be able to do everything on her own. She asked me straight up where my head was at. If I had any doubts about juggling more than one she would consider reconsidering.
Without missing a beat, I said, deadpan: “We’re just gonna have to accept that it’s gonna suck and be hard for a while.” This directly links to the common surface level parenting advice received above. One kid is tough, it's a huge adjustment where your world no longer revolves around you or your lover but around a little gem of a human. I don't discount the reality and this is exactly what I acknowledged when I uttered those words.
This was us setting expectations. If we accepted that it would be hard, then the hard stuff wouldn’t surprise or defeat us... it would just be. And when you stop wasting energy fighting what’s hard, you can focus on what’s good, and with kids, there’s so much good.
We spend a lot of time being grateful for them, every single day. That doesn’t mean I don’t lose my shit sometimes or wrestle with my own fatigue, anger, or frustration... I do. And I regret it every time. But by accepting the hardest parts of parenting up front, you leave more room for the best parts.
Fertility issues are still the main character in our story, and honestly, we’re just the supporting cast at this point. Which means fertility treatments are still very much in the script, too. Since those appointments always call the shots, our vacations have to wait for their cue. So this summer, we stayed close to home: little road trips to visit friends in Quebec, quick Tremblant escapes, and enough local adventures to make it look like we planned it that way. It wasn’t the summer we once pictured, but it was still ours... messy, hopeful, and full of small wins that mattered more than we expected.
Our camping trip in Oka was the real standout of the summer. It was a first for all of us as a family and it was new, and a little chaotic... which might be why it hit differently, especially for the kids. Lola and Wesley were obsessed with the tent. As we set it up, they kept running in and out like two caffeinated squirrels, absolutely losing their minds over what was basically a big nylon fort. Once it was finally up, they spent forever playing inside, laughing, mostly running, and opening and closing the zipper door like it owed them money. I'm convinced that trip actually brought them closer together. Something unlocked especially for Lola because ever since she's been more open to playing with her brother spontaneously. Wesley was always obsessed with his cool older sister but now he holds an even greater space in her heart. Maybe there was something about being zipped up together under the same roof (well, tarp) that just zipped.
We also got lucky with the weather. The heat wave broke just before we arrived, so nights were actually comfortable, and it didn’t rain once a small miracle for first-time campers.
We also celebrated our little Lola, who somehow turned 4 (I swear she was 2, like, last week). And as if that wasn’t enough, Sophie went full undercover party planner and pulled off this epic all-day 50th birthday celebration. I basically spent the day being passed around like a party favor, bouncing from one group of friends and family to the next. And while I don’t feel half a century old, I do feel pretty wise… like a slightly confused Yoda who still needs Google Maps to get home. So yeah summer was epic even without the epic getaway trip for all sorts of reasons.
The truth is, the kids have no idea about any of this. To them, it’s just more time with Mom and Dad... new spots, same love, same chaos. But the parents definitely feel it. Especially Sophie, who has traveling in her DNA. Staying close to home isn’t her natural state. She lights up when there’s a map on the wall and a suitcase half-packed; though to be fair, none of our suitcases have ever been half-packed. We don’t travel light; we travel like we’re fleeing the country. So while the kids are busy making memories, she’s quietly carrying the weight of postponed adventures, doing her best to turn detours into destinations.
Me? I’m more of a follower… or maybe a free-flow-er. I’m happy to tag along wherever we end up, as long as it’s with them.
After three failed insemination attempts, our doctor wanted to regroup. That’s when Sophie brought up using our one free IVF procedure. She’s not getting any younger (her words, not mine), and as she reminded me, eggs fertilized today keep today’s age and success odds, not next year’s. IVF also has better chances overall, and since we’re aiming for a full starting lineup of four kids, it just made sense.
Later that day, after our virtual call, came that quiet moment, the kind where no one in their right mind admits... I probably should’ve paid better attention in biology. We’ve been at this long enough not to get swept up in the hope or the fear too quickly. Still, sitting at home in the basement, it hit me: this is the next big step. Sophie was already half in planning mode, asking all the smart questions and taking notes, while I was mostly nodding and trying to figure out what IVF even stood for. It’s strange how something so medical can still feel so deeply personal.
We’ve learned that in the fertility world, hope and heartbreak share the same room... you just never know which one’s going to sit closer.
IVF can only be done in Montreal, so Sophie started pumping her body full of hormones to prep for maximum egg production. When the time came., off we went to MTL for the big egg extraction.
Having gone through insemination before, we thought we’d already seen the most “medical” side of fertility treatments, but IVF took things to another level of science. To qualify for a same-cycle implantation, Sophie couldn’t produce more than 15 eggs. So there we were: Sophie lying on the table, me sitting beside her, watching the screen on the wall as the doctor started the extraction. One by one, I could see the follicles being scooped up, tiny little orbs floating on a monitor like something out of a documentary. Every time a vial filled, someone whisked it over to the adjoining lab, where another doctor appeared on the same screen, collecting the eggs with calm precision.
It was surreal. And like she always does, Sophie handled it perfectly. At this point, I’m not sure I’m even there for support anymore... I think I’m just there for decor. Luckily, I go extremely well with her shoes.
With 15 eggs being the deciding factor for a same-cycle implantation, how many do you think over-performing Sophie produced?
Go ahead, take a guess.
Fifteen. On. The. Dot.
Since every skipped month is another month away from our baby, we wanted to fast-track it. Her levels looked good, so they let her through. Of the 15 eggs, 12 were mature enough. Of those 12, nine survived fertilization. And finally, of the nine, six made it all the way, with one being implanted five days later, back in Montreal. This is the most ideal outcome we could have hoped for. For some the reality is a lot more grim where the yield is lower. And yield is important if you take into account the 15 we started with and the 6 that remain.
The result? Sophie is officially pregnant with our third child. A little sister named Zoe according to Lola.
With this pregnancy comes the delightful combo of constant headaches and nausea. Sophie says it’s giving major Lola déjà vu, she was just as sick with Lola, while Wesley was smooth sailing by comparison. So in her mind, that means another girl is on the way. I have zero premonition either way, but honestly, another girl sounds great... as long as number four’s a boy. Poor Wesley’s already drowning in pink and princesses.
Sophie’s been joking lately that I keep forgetting she’s pregnant. I like to shrug it off, we’ve got two kids, a full schedule, and about as much free time as a goldfish. But if I’m being real, she’s not wrong. With Lola, everything was a first, and after such a long, hard road to even get there, it all felt big and sacred. With Wesley, I made sure to carve out “Lola time,” but we still had space left over for some solid Wesley belly love.
This time? I’m definitely dropping the ball. I’m super excited, don’t get me wrong, but the other day I picked up Wesley for a cuddle while chatting with my in-laws, and it hit me: this might be the last time I get to soak up baby cuddles. That thought broke me a little. The circus of daily life has me too distracted, and that’s on me. The chaos doesn’t have to be the reason I miss out on the magic again.
Day 1 - The road to Annapolis (Oct 9)
Ok, so now you’re mostly caught up on family and fertility us, so let’s turn our attention back to traveling family circ-US. Finally, now that Sophie’s pregnant again, we have our first family trip not scheduled around fertility appointments. This road trip is a much-needed escape for all of us.
The plan: head down to Annapolis for a sailing boat show, to finally see, in person, the sailboat we’ve been dreaming about retiring on. The one we picture ourselves living aboard with the kids, sailing around the world, chasing sunsets instead of schedules. It’s our big dream, part crazy, part beautiful... but maybe standing on that deck, even just for a moment, will make it feel like maybe it’s not so far out of reach.
On the way back, we’re taking our time, a stop in Manhattan with the kids, then a visit to Legoland. A mix of grown-up dreams and kid adventures. Maybe that’s what this whole season of life is about... holding both at once.
My mom; known as “Mamie” to my kids; got Lola her first suitcase and backpack combo when she started traveling. A cute pink owl set she absolutely adored. Naturally, she couldn’t let Wesley be outdone, so he got his own: cars, trucks, and planes everywhere. He’s obsessed. The second she brought them out, he started rolling his suitcase around the house like he was late for a flight.
Sophie and I packed a shared suitcase while the kids’ clothes each went into their tiny, adorable suitcases. Their backpacks were stuffed with toys we hoped would keep them entertained during the never-ending car ride.
This was, hands down, our lightest packing job ever. The van actually had space left over, which feels like a small miracle.
Before we hit the road, Wesley and I stopped for a much-needed haircut. It was his fourth one, and once again, the little guy showed up all smiles and curiosity. Zero fear. Not a single tear. Just pure fascination.
It reminded me how calming it used to feel, that comb brushing through my hair (well, whatever’s left of it). For a moment, I forgot the busyness of life and just lived in the moment… like Wesley does naturally.
After the trim, we grabbed a pizza, picked up Lola, dropped off the school stuff, and hit the road. We ran into some Ottawa traffic on the way out, but with full bellies and a van full of snacks, we were happier than a bird in flight.
Our first stop: Syracuse, just to break up the long drive south. No way we were making it all the way to Annapolis after a full day of work.
The kids crushed the first three-hour leg, no digital entertainment needed. We brought the “zombie machines,” of course, but the goal was to keep them off as long as possible.
At one point, Lola and Wesley started singing together in the backseat... one of those heart-melting parenting moments that makes all the chaos worth it. The kind of sound you wish you could bottle up and play back on the harder days.
We got to Syracuse around 9 p.m. Both kids were out cold as we pulled into the hotel parking lot and eased to a full stop, every move slow and calculated, trying not to wake baby Wesley. But the second the van went quiet, he smelled the fear and woke right up. Dohhhhhhhh
We checked in, unloaded the essentials, and I managed a successful Lola transfer to bed. Yayyy me. Meanwhile, Wesley decided it was time to start his Thursday again.
He was full of energy zipping and zooming around the hotel room like he’d had three espressos. It’s a miracle Lola slept through it. We finally managed to calm him down to something close to “pre-vegetation,” and eventually, he went down for the night.
He’s currently kicking his feet in his portable crib as I write this. Everyone else is asleep.
And honestly, it feels pretty perfect.
Day 2 - Syracuse and traffic jams (Oct 10)
Documenting our trips comes at a cost and that cost is my sleep. Those mornings come quick and violent, because traveling Lola and Wesley like to wake up at weekend Lola and Wesley hours. I used to wonder who woke up the rooster. Now I know.
All of our hotels on this trip have breakfast included, and while our expectations weren’t over the moon, we were adequately appeased in our first lodging. The kids sampled most of the options but really settled on juice, juice, and more juice. I downed a couple of croissants with cream cheese... classy, I know.
We packed up the room quickly and hit the road for Walmart and Target. In the rush of leaving home after work and school, we’d forgotten the kids’ rain gear. Lola needed rain pants, and Wesley needed a coat and pants.
We walked away with just a coat for Wesley... apparently pants don't get wet from rain down here in the States. Next stop: Destiny USA mall, where the kids could burn some energy.
We ended up parking in front of a random store called Mystery Box... more like Mystery junk. The ambiance inside was far more garage sale than mystery. Once we made it into the main mall, though, we were impressed by its size. As we wandered through endless floors and hallways, it became clear this place was a relic — a dilapidated snapshot of a different era.
After our walkabout, we headed back to the car and made our way to Costco, Sophie’s favourite place on Earth. If she could have dated Costco I would have been a distant choice. There we grabbed snacks, lunch, and gas before starting the long, arduous six-hour trek to Annapolis.
I’m happy to report that the kids were amazing for most of it. Wesley fell asleep at the click of his seatbelt, and Lola wasn’t far behind. When they woke up, we were already halfway there. Sophie and I were high-fiving each other like we’d just won the parental Olympics. Every time it seemed like we were making good time, life threw an endless traffic jam our way—just to keep us humble. The kids don’t notice speed, only minutes passing, but thankfully they spent those minutes playing with toys and coloring.
I think it was close to 6 p.m. when I spotted the word “playground” on the map (did I mention we were in airplane mode, bravely traveling without data?). It was exactly what Sophie had been searching for: a place where the kids could run, climb, and shake off that car-seat energy, and whatever snacks had glued themselves to their pants. We ended up staying for a good hour as the sun went down. Lola and Wesley made a new friend and spent the whole time laughing, racing, and sliding like they’d lived there all summer. Adorbs!
Leaving wasn’t exactly smooth, they were having too much fun, but once we mentioned it was getting dark and the iPad would be available in the car, they were suddenly on board. The rest of the drive was smooth sailing… or so I think. Honestly, I don’t really know. I made most of that part up, since thankfully Sophie handled all the driving while I relaxed in the passenger seat, pretending to be in charge of navigation.
We rolled into our hotel in Baltimore around 9 p.m. again. Sophie checked us in and got the room set up while I stayed in the car with the kids. Wesley was out cold; Lola, of course, was wired.
Once we all made it inside, everyone finally settled for the night. Tomorrow was the boat show, the main event. We had no idea how the kids would handle what is, let’s be honest, more of an adult affair. But if history has taught us anything, it’s that they usually manage to find the fun in just about anything.
Once again, I spent the quiet hours of the night documenting our family’s journey, eyelids heavy and fighting me every inch of the way. The spotty internet was the final sign... time to drift off.
Family getaways are the best.
