Evonne and Vanessa Are Still Dancing Toward Parenthood

Vanessa loves weddings. Not just the vows, she says, but the room: everyone who has ever known you, gathered in one place to say they are here for the next chapter. She and her wife Evonne have been loved and witnessed by a lot of people. Now they are hoping those same people will witness one more thing: the child they have been working so hard to bring into the world.

Two eldest daughters

Evonne and Vanessa are both eldest daughters who helped raise their younger siblings, and they say those years taught them to be nurturing, responsible, and selfless. Evonne has worked in a cancer center and in pediatrics. After losing her father to cancer in 2016, she learned firsthand how precious life can be. Today she works as an Emergency Room nurse, serves as a SANE nurse providing a safe landing space for survivors of sexual assault, and is pursuing her Master's in Nursing with a focus on psychiatric mental health.

Vanessa has been an elementary school art teacher for 16 years in Chicago's Little Village neighborhood, where many of her students face challenges tied to poverty, violence, and immigration. "Art saved my life," she writes. It gave her a voice and taught her to follow her dreams. One day she hopes to establish a college scholarship for underprivileged artists of color.

They found each other later than they expected, and the story is a good one. Vanessa had made a quiet deal with the universe: the next person sent her way needed to be able to dance. Evonne responded with a silly video of her moves, ending in a moonwalk. The first time Vanessa visited her home, Evonne played "I Wanna Dance with Somebody" at 1 a.m. and asked her to dance. Vanessa texted her best friend from the table: "I think I found my wife."

Somewhere between grief and hope

Vanessa had already begun pursuing motherhood before they met, saving for four years and selecting a donor. Evonne did not hesitate. She came to appointments, administered medications, and stood beside Vanessa during a medicated IUI. When it failed, she ran a bath, held her while she cried, and tucked her into bed.

When they moved to IVF, Evonne bought a pink tackle box for the medications and filled it with flower-shaped Band-Aids. She gave every injection with the gentlest touch. They started taking "wife walks," much to the delight of their dog.

After their most recent failed transfer, they describe themselves as living somewhere between grief and hope. Both are high-achieving women used to seeing results from hard work. IVF, Vanessa writes, is different: you can do everything right and still experience loss. They are not giving up.

Why community matters here

Building a family through IVF carries costs that most insurance does not absorb: donor sperm, genetic carrier testing, embryo freezing, PGT testing, and the ongoing medical bills of simply continuing to try. For many families, and especially for LGBTQ+ families, the path to parenthood begins with a bill before it begins with a baby. That is where a community of small gifts can genuinely change what is possible.

If their story moved you, read it in their own words and chip in whatever you can toward their fundraiser. Every contribution brings Evonne and Vanessa closer to the day they introduce their child to everyone who has been cheering them on.