- South Carolina -
Dave — written by Mackenzie Dave is the steadiest person I know, and in a house with seven children, that is no small thing. He's the kind of man who, when something gets hard, gets quieter and more focused instead of louder. He doesn't flinch. He shows up. Every single time. By day, Dave is the Head of School at the school all seven of our children attend, which means he sees them in the hallways, at lunch and on the fields — their lives and his work stitched together, exactly the way he likes it. He loves that work in a way that surprised even him, because he believes down to his bones that good schools build good communities, and he has poured himself into ours. At home, he's the dad who notices. He notices when Pike needs a quiet word before a game, when Webb has a stage routine he wants someone to watch, when Bo needs a real basketball partner for the game-winning shot. He is in the bath-and-bedtime trenches every night — seven kids in, and that has never once changed. He is, at his core, a giver — patient, faithful, tenderhearted, and goofy enough to keep us all laughing. He's a wonderful father to Ford; from the very first hours he was all in, and year after year he's held space for Ford's story without ever rushing it.
Mackenzie — written by Dave The first thing you notice about Mackenzie is that she's paying attention. Not in a watchful way — in a curious, generous one. She asks questions because she truly wants the answer, she remembers what you told her last time, and she's the friend who mails a card for no reason at all. In a house with seven children, she's the one who can tell which kid needs a quiet ten minutes and which one needs to be tossed in the air. Mackenzie was, in her own words, born to be a mom, and watching her with our seven is about the best evidence I have for a soul's purpose. She's silly and tender in the same breath — she can belt a Disney song and kiss a scraped knee at the same time, and she's done exactly that about ten thousand times. She's also, quietly, the engine of this whole household: the Christmas traditions, the birthday rituals, the random Tuesday s'mores in the fireplace — those are all her. Her favorite thing to say when she wakes up is "What to do? What to do?", and there are to-do lists stashed in every corner of this house to prove she means it. These last few years, she's come back to the part of herself that existed before all of us — she's an abstract painter, and her work has found a real audience. Watching her step fully into that has been one of the great joys of my life. She is more herself than she has ever been.
Hi — We’re Mackenzie and Dave.
We don’t know your name yet, or your story, or what carried you to this page today. But we know that looking at families, even for a few minutes, takes something. So before anything else: thank you for being here.
We’d love to let you know we have been in this spot before. More than a decade ago, a woman we will always hold in quiet gratitude chose us to raise her son. He’s twelve now, and he’s woven into every corner of our lives. He’s an incredible and priceless gift we can’t imagine being without. He taught us what it means to love a child whose beginning isn’t the same as ours — and to honor that beginning rather than paper over it.
We’re a loud, faithful, wonderfully full family: seven children, two parents who still like each other after twenty-one years, and one cavapoo named Dolly Parton. Our weeks run on school plays, ball practices, and Sunday Mass, and we wouldn’t trade the noise for anything. What we’ve learned is that a full house is not the same as a full heart — there is still room in ours, and we feel it.
If you keep reading, you’ll meet all of us: our home, our people, our ordinary days. We hope something in here feels like it could fit the hopes you carry for your baby. And if it doesn’t, we mean this with our whole hearts — we wish you peace, and the right family, wherever you find them.
With care,
Mackenzie & Dave
Home for us is a comfortable, lived-in place in South Carolina, tucked into a wooded neighborhood about ten minutes from a beautiful downtown and a short drive from the foothills of the Blue Ridge. We moved here in the summer of 2023, and the place has fully claimed us.
It’s a full house in the best sense — art supplies on the counter, a basketball abandoned on the stairs, someone’s cleats by the door, and Dolly the cavapoo underfoot. Our house is two stories with 6 bedrooms, including a bunk room. There’s a large, covered back porch with a fireplace and a grill where a lot of our best evenings happen, an acre of yard and gardens for the kids to disappear into, and a library with a secret hide-out that’s equal parts homework, board games and forts.
Our days are a series of overlapping circles: a wonderful private school (where all seven kids go), rec leagues, plays and recitals, art and music lessons, and the steady rhythm of our parish. On weekends we’re usually outside — a hike at a close by state park, bike rides on beautiful trails, or a slow Saturday morning where everyone somehow ends up on the same couch. It’s a busy life, but not a frantic one. We’ve worked hard to keep it that way, and there’s room in it for one more.
There’s a room in our house that’s just waiting.
We’ve had babies in our home for years now, so we know exactly what a nursery needs to be — soft, safe, and calm, with a comfortable chair for the 2 a.m. feedings and the rocking that we know is sacred time. We have an iron crib that has kept all of our babies and 3 large windows that make it beautiful and bright. Also, there is a queen bed next to the crib for family storytime at night.
Meet Dolly Parton — our cavapoo, and quite possibly the most beloved dog ever. She arrived as a surprise Christmas gift to the kids in 2024 and has been happily underfoot ever since: part lapdog, part shadow, part welcoming committee, and firmly convinced that everyone who comes to the door is here to see her.
We met twenty-one years ago over a foosball table, when Dave asked Mackenzie if she had change for a dollar. (She did. He still owes her:) ) We’ve been building a life together ever since — and we’re genuinely different people. Dave is the steady one, the long-game thinker who keeps a household of seven moving in roughly the same direction. Mackenzie is the spark: full of ideas, always spotting the next adventure. Underneath, we share what matters most — a quiet, durable faith, a belief that family comes first, and a conviction that life is meant to be lived fully.
Then there are the seven, each one entirely their own person:
Grier, our oldest(and only daughter), a hard worker with a sharp mind who’s been asking for a little sister for years.
Ford, funny in a dry, catch-you-off-guard way, with a huge heart for his family and our animals.
Webb, the all-American kid who plays every sport in season and just starred as Daddy Warbucks in the school play.
Bo, one hundred miles an hour, all sports, all the time, awake every morning with a plan but a heart of gold for younger siblings and little children.
Tully, our creative one, with the most elaborate imagination in the house. He loves art, acting and loves finding something creative for his siblings to play.
Pike, tenderhearted and sensitive, who wants to do everything his big brothers do. He loves to play outside all day!
And Lawson, our baby — and somehow also the boss of everyone. He is so ready to be a protective big brother.
We also carry Cauley with us. He was our second child, and he was with us for only a few months before he passed away in our arms. We still talk about him; the kids know him. He is part of why we understand what a gift each single day with a child truly is — and part of why our family keeps making room.
That’s us: big, loud, faithful, and completely ready to love one more.
We’ve walked this road once already, and it taught us something important: we will tell your child their full story — with love, and without a trace of shame — on a timeline that fits them, not us.
We will keep the door open to you for as long as you want it open. Letters, photos, updates — whatever feels right and safe to you, now and down the road.
We will never describe your decision as anything other than what we believe it to be: a hard, brave, and deeply loving act.
Whatever you decide, and whoever you choose, we are rooting for you and for your baby.