One chilly morning in 2002, Courtney sat at the kitchen table, staring at the pregnancy test in her hand. When Kurt walked in, she looked up, eyes shining with a mix of fear and hope. “Kurt… we’re having another baby.”

He blinked, then smiled slowly, pulling her into a hug. “One more, huh? I’m here.”

By 2003, your family was loud and full of love. Frances Bean, the eldest at 10, was thoughtful and artistic, with her dad’s blue eyes and a gentle soul. She spent hours drawing and writing stories in her notebook.

Jamie, 8, was wild and full of energy—Courtney’s curls and a fire in his heart. He loved playing drums and always tried to get the band’s attention.

Lisa, 6, was fierce and protective, a bit of a tomboy who preferred hand-me-down sweaters and sneakers. She adored her little brothers and sisters and never backed down from a challenge.

Eli, just 3, was the baby of the “older crew” — curious, always laughing, obsessed with dinosaurs and chasing after everyone.

When Kurt and Courtney sat the kids down to share the news, Frances smiled quietly and said, “Another one to love.” Jamie jumped up, shouting, “I can’t wait to teach the baby drums!” Lisa grinned, “More chaos? Bring it on.” Eli clapped and babbled happily.

Kurt grinned at them all. “This family’s getting bigger. We stick together.”

Courtney kissed her belly. “Our last little spark.”