They set their own order in making a family
Zander remembers the midwife asking, “Do you get nauseous? Are you OK?” as the baby crowned, then ordering, “Catch!”
THE PARENTS: Liz Harris, 42, and Zander Crawford, 35, of Roxborough
THE KIDS: Jackson Harris, 8; Maxwell Kenneth, 6; Alice Elizabeth, 3
THE WEDDING: Feb. 11, 2023
WHERE THEY’VE TOUCHED DOWN ALONG THE WAY: Philadelphia, Miami, New York, St. Croix, Fort Lauderdale
The children had questions. “Wait, you mean you guys aren’t married? Aren’t you supposed to do this before you have kids?”
It’s a long story, Liz and Zander said — one that started in 2010, when they found each other underwater. Literally.
Zander, just out of college, was volunteering at a marine conservation project where Liz was on staff, a remote research base in the Seychelles, an archipelago in the Indian Ocean.
At one of Zander’s first gatherings with the group, he spotted Liz, then asked someone, “Are volunteers allowed to date the staff?” The response: “Absolutely not, but if you do, you’ll be a legend!”
“He was definitely not even in my radar because he was younger,” Liz recalls. “But we became really good friends.”
As part of a 35-person team in a rustic setting, they lived, worked, ate, and socialized together.
Then there was the night — it might have been Liz’s birthday — when Zander scoured the island for the best bottle of wine. And another night, when the two lingered beachside, dazzled by bioluminescence in the sea.
By the end of Zander’s seven-month stint on the project, the two were coupled enough to return to the United States together.
In New York, they shared a 300-square-foot apartment; they were planning to move to the Virgin Islands when Liz gave Zander a tearful smile one night before the two headed out to dinner.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“I’m pregnant.”
Both knew they wanted kids, and Liz recalls being impressed by Zander’s ease with children in the Seychelles orphanage and school when they taught snorkeling and conservation lessons.
But the pregnancy was a game changer; they abandoned plans to return to a remote island life and instead settled in Philadelphia, near Liz’s parents.
Liz recalls the first sonogram: “A perfect little side profile of this active little body, arms and legs kicking up and down. It felt like it was all meant to be, and everything was going to be fine.”
Jackson, the first grandchild on both sides, was born in December 2014, after a 12-hour labor at Einstein Medical Center Montgomery. Ten family members crowded the waiting room to greet him.
Zander had proposed earlier that year. “Our original thought was: We’ll have our first kid, and then we’ll get married after that.”
But life had other plans. Jackson was just a year old when Liz became pregnant again. “We didn’t exactly feel settled in this new-old life back here,” she says, “but we knew our family wasn’t complete yet.”
This pregnancy, like her first, was healthy and relatively easy, despite the fatigue of chasing a toddler. “Jackson was a very active toddler, so we were running around to story hours and music classes, hikes in the Wissahickon,” Liz says.
Maxwell’s birth was quicker. Zander remembers the midwife asking, “Do you get nauseous? Are you OK?” as the baby crowned, then ordering, “Catch!”
The next months blur in retrospect: days of neighborhood moms group gatherings and story hour at the library, snacks and naps and nursing and diapers. “It was a whirlwind,” Liz says. “Marriage was on the back burner.”
They developed tight bonds with neighbors and friends who were also raising young children. They bought a house in 2019. But their family didn’t feel finished. That year, Liz was pregnant again — this time, they learned, with a girl.
Liz was home with two toddlers while pregnant. “That was a lot,” she says. Alice arrived just weeks before the pandemic began; the living room and backyard became the borders of their world.
Jackson and Max formed a tight sibling bond, and Zander, who works at Vanguard, let the baby sleep on his chest while he took part in Zoom meetings from home. “Alice got to be held vs. schlepping around,” Liz says. “We were just home. That was the silver lining [of the pandemic].”
As COVID-19 rates declined in 2022, they revisited the marriage question.
“I had brought it up here and there over the years,” Liz says, “but it never really took off. Finally, we thought: Now is the time. Now or never. It’s something we wanted our whole family to be a part of. Things were reopening from COVID, and it was a possibility again.”
They planned a wedding in three months, for Feb. 11, 2023, at the Flourtown Country Club. Jackson and Max were their ring bearers; Alice relished marching in her dress-up shoes. “They love kid birthday parties, and this was like a birthday party times a million,” Liz says.
When the boys asked about the kids-before-marriage deviation from the typical plan, Liz responded, “Everyone does things in a different order, and this is the way it worked out. It’s more special because you get to be here for it.”
“It’s not traditional, but I think it’s made our family stronger,” Zander says.
They were already full in with one another, and with the kids, but both say the wedding marked an emotional shift.
Zander thinks about Liz every time he glances at his ring. She says husband instead of fiancé or boyfriend. They savored every wedding ritual: the walk down the aisle with Liz’s dad, who suffers from Parkinson’s; the cake; the gathering of relatives and friends and former colleagues from their days in the Seychelles.
Liz invited a local musician, a woman who leads the children’s music class they attend, to sing as part of the ceremony. All five of them stood up — Alice in her twirly dress, Jackson and Max in their sharp suits — and danced, as a family, to “You’re My Little One” by Music with Gina.
“We were already committed, but didn’t want to pass up the opportunity to celebrate with our families and the people in our lives,” Liz says. “That was the only part that was missing.”