Have you ever started down one path, certain you knew where it would lead, only to realize it was taking you somewhere entirely different?
As a travel advisor, I spend a lot of time thinking about journeys. How they begin, where they take us, and who we become along the way.
The most meaningful ones rarely follow the itinerary we imagined. They surprise us. They stretch us. Sometimes, they lead us somewhere we never would have chosen but ultimately needed to go.
This past year, I began a journey I could never have mapped out in advance.
Ten Months That Changed My Life
Last year, I had the profound privilege of becoming a foster mother to a baby girl.
She spent the beginning of her life in the NICU, and I was there beside her for ten days. When she was discharged, I brought her home.
I learned her cries and her routines. I memorized the exact way her fingers curled around mine. I learned how quickly an ordinary day can become sacred when you are caring for a child.
For ten months, I witnessed the quiet magic of watching her grow.
Her first smile. Her first laugh. The first time she rolled over and seemed genuinely surprised by what she had done.
They were small moments, but they changed everything.
I watched her heal and thrive. I loved her fully, without knowing how long I would be allowed to do it.
That is both the beauty and the heartbreak of foster care.
When Love Does Not Get the Final Say
Eventually, she was reunified with her biological father.
Reunification is the purpose of foster care whenever it can happen safely. I understood that when I said yes to becoming her foster mother.
Understanding the goal did not make saying goodbye any easier.
There were parts of the process that left me with deep concerns and questions I may always carry. Her story is not mine to share in full, so I hold those details carefully.
What I can share is what the silence felt like afterward.
The bottles disappeared from the counter. The bedtime routine ended. The nursery remained exactly as it had been, but the child who made it a nursery was gone.
Grief does not always arrive in ways other people recognize.
Sometimes there is no funeral, no familiar ritual, and no clear language for what has been lost. Life simply becomes quieter, and you learn to carry love that no longer has anywhere obvious to go.
Perhaps you know that kind of grief too.
The kind that is difficult to explain because the person, relationship, dream, or future you lost is still real, just no longer yours to hold.
The Question That Came Next
After reunification, I spent several months sitting with a question:
Do I foster again, or do I pursue adoption?
Both paths matter.
Foster families step into uncertainty and choose to love children without knowing how long they will remain. It is sacred and incredibly difficult work. I will always respect the people who continue opening their homes and hearts, even after experiencing loss.
For a season, fostering was the work placed in front of me.
But when I became quiet enough to listen to what was pulling at me, I realized I was being drawn toward a different path.
Toward adoption.
Adoption is not certain or without loss. A match can change, and an expectant mother may choose to parent.
But foster care taught me something I could no longer ignore: I did not need a biological connection to love a child fully and deeply.
I knew I still wanted to become a mother.
And I knew I was willing to walk through uncertainty to get there.
Why I Created Atlas & Isle
Private domestic adoption is a significant emotional and financial commitment.
In the cases I have reviewed, costs have ranged from approximately $45,000 to $75,000, depending on the circumstances. Pursuing adoption as a single woman means preparing to carry that responsibility on one income.
That reality could have stopped me.
Instead, it made me ask a different question:
What can I build to help make this possible?
The answer became Atlas & Isle.
I built this travel advisory business alongside my full-time career as a talent leader. Travel planning is something I already love, but Atlas & Isle gave that work a deeper purpose.
I help people take the ideas they have been saving and turn them into trips they can actually experience.
The hotel bookmarked six months ago. The reel from a tiny restaurant in Italy. The family vacation everyone keeps saying they will plan next year. The honeymoon that deserves more thought than a hurried search after work.
Some clients want every detail handled. Others arrive with a Pinterest board, a folder of screenshots, and very strong opinions about hotel balconies.
I genuinely love both.
My job is to turn that inspiration into a trip that works in real life. I research the options, connect the logistics, make the bookings, and manage the details that are much less fun than saving the reel in the first place.
I plan everything from hotels, cruises, and family vacations to group travel, corporate trips, and complete custom itineraries.
Through my partnership with Fora, I may also be able to provide preferred benefits at participating hotels, including daily breakfast, property credits, early check-in, late checkout, and upgrade priority.
Every trip I plan helps someone create meaningful memories with the people they love.
And every booking helps me move one step closer to growing my own family.
More Than One Thing Can Be True
This journey has taught me that more than one truth can exist at the same time.
You can be grateful for a season and still grieve how it ended.
You can believe in reunification and still carry questions about a particular outcome.
You can understand that adoption begins with loss and still feel called to become an adoptive parent.
You can be afraid of being hurt again and choose to move forward anyway.
That is where I am now.
I do not know exactly how this journey will unfold. I cannot control the timeline, the match, or the circumstances that will eventually bring a child into my life.
But I can keep taking the next step in front of me.
Atlas & Isle is one of those steps. Every trip I plan supports my adoption journey and brings me closer to the family I am hoping to build.
For the travelers who trust me with their plans, my goal is simple: to create thoughtful trips that feel personal, seamless, and worth remembering.
And for anyone walking through foster care, adoption, reunification, waiting, or a loss that other people do not quite understand, I hope this part of my story reminds you that you are not alone.
Thoughtful trips, planned with care.