Baby, Let’s Cruise (Into Parenthood)

Before we dive into our adoption journey, let me take you back to where it all began—because, trust me, it was a journey long before we ever filled out a single piece of paperwork.

Karl and I both grew up in the vast cornfields of Iowa, met in college in 1996, and, like any great love story, immediately started making fun of each other’s quirks. We dated, moved in together, built a life, and somewhere along the way, the “kids” conversation popped up.

Karl, however, was very clear from day one: No. Kids. Ever. His reasoning? In high school, he had been voluntold to care for his baby brother—an experience that left him with a deep appreciation for sleep, silence, and uninterrupted meals.

So, that was that. Or so we thought.

A Little Family Magic (and a Lot of Clare)

Fast forward a decade. We had built an amazing life together, complete with a chosen family—our best friends, Chris and Bob. These two were our ride-or-die vacation buddies, holiday hosts, and overall partners-in-crime. They also made the decision to adopt, and after years of ups and downs, they welcomed our goddaughter, Clare.

We still traveled together, but now with a tiny plus-one. And while, yes, traveling with a kid meant more planning and fewer spontaneous poolside cocktails, it didn’t seem impossible. In fact, it looked… kind of wonderful.

Then came the cruise.

Disney Magic (and an Unexpected Plot Twist)

One of our adventures took us aboard the Disney Magic for a Mediterranean cruise. One afternoon, Karl and I got into an elevator, and a little boy—maybe four or five—hopped in with us. He confidently hit the button for deck seven, and I, being the responsible adult, asked, “Should we wait for your family?”

He turned to me, completely unfazed, and said, “No, thank you. I’m just going up to get something to drink.”

Karl and I exchanged looks, trying not to laugh. This pint-sized independent traveler had clearly mastered cruise life better than most adults.

Little did I know, that tiny interaction was about to change everything.

Cocktails, Conversations, and a Change of Heart

That evening, while I was off getting a massage (living my best vacation life), Karl and Chris sat by the pool bar, having what I later learned was a deeply emotional heart-to-heart about adoption, fears, and what life might look like with a child. There were tears. There were laughs. There were, presumably, strong cocktails.

The next morning, Karl hit me with a line I never expected to hear:

"I think I'm willing to talk about adoption, but I don’t want you running off and signing us up for classes or anything. I just need more time to think about it."

Now, at this point, I had years of pent-up excitement about this possibility, but I played it cool. I nodded, smiled, and resisted the urge to throw confetti.

The Waiting Game (And the Ultimate Green Light)

I did what any reasonable person would do: I secretly started researching. Agencies, timelines, requirements—I gathered information but kept it to myself, waiting for Karl to bring it up again.

Two months later, Karl finally asked, "Why haven't you mentioned adoption again?"

I reminded him that he had asked for time to think.

His response?

"I think I’ve had enough time. Let’s do this."

And that, my friends, is how our adoption journey officially began.

Sometimes, the biggest adventures start in the most unexpected places—like a Disney cruise, a poolside chat, and a tiny, fearless child in an elevator.

Stay tuned. The real adventure was just beginning...

The Disney Magic