The Parent Trip: Angela and Frank Dagenais of Chalfont

He was a country boy, raised on a 100-acre farm in Ottawa, Canada, in a town so small it had no grocery store or gas station.

She was a suburban girl who spent her teen years going to the mall, playing soccer, and teaching kids to swim.

Their meeting, in a Las Vegas bar, was happenstance: Frank was there to play in a men's hockey tournament, and Angela had gone on a spontaneous birthday jaunt with a girlfriend.

"I kept trying to talk to him, but he's very shy," Angela recalls. "At the end of the night, he said, 'Let me get your number.' "

That led to phone calls - "I had butterflies in my stomach every time we talked," Angela says - and visits that jolted both of them with culture shock. At Frank's family's farm, Angela pinched her nose: What was that sour, earthy smell? "A goat jumped on me, and I freaked out, thinking it was going to eat me."

In Chalfont, hardly a metropolis, Frank felt hemmed in by apartment living, dizzied by traffic and stores and Laundromats.

But both felt certain about one thing: This long-distance romance was for the duration. Five months after they met, Frank moved to Chalfont; three months later, after coming home late from a hockey game, he woke Angela and proposed.

Children were an obvious next step - Angela was a teacher who'd worked in after-school programs as a teen; Frank had spent long afternoons watching Finding Nemo 10 times over with his niece - and both were content with a laissez-faire approach to conception.

"I wasn't going to drive myself crazy; my attitude was: Let nature do what it's supposed to do," Angela says.

Nature did. Six months after their 2009 wedding, she wrapped a positive pregnancy test with a bib that read, "I love Daddy," and left it at Frank's place at the table. At Christmas, they sprang the news to their parents with framed ultrasound photos.

Except for an uncharacteristic craving for soda - she allowed herself a weekly treat of Coke or Pepsi - Angela's pregnancy was a smooth ride. That is, until the final hours, which involved two epidurals, 4½ hours of pushing, and the use of suction to help Nason emerge.

For Frank, all those years of witnessing and assisting in animals' births helped steady him through the long labor. Blood didn't faze him; they'd used Pitocin on the farm to jump-start contractions for the cows.

What was different were his tears: relief and happiness at this crying, round-faced infant, a wave of pleasure when the doctor said, "It's a boy."

At home, Angela struggled to manage simple tasks - laundry, dinner, a shower - in the midst of Nason's crying. And then, while still nursing a 5-month-old, she developed a metallic taste in her mouth and found her weight-loss program at a standstill.

"I took a pregnancy test and, sure enough, it was positive. I just wasn't expecting a second one to be so soon. What went through my mind was: I hope it's a girl."

Once again, they opted to be surprised. After another easy pregnancy - this time, Angela craved spicy Buffalo chicken dip - Ella entered their lives with a giant wail.

Two babies felt exponentially harder than one. The first time Angela ventured to Target with the kids, she sat in the parking lot, strategizing how she would get both of them from the car to the cart. They napped on asynchronous schedules; Nason could sit placidly, waiting to be fed, while Ella was an active baby who walked at nine months.

The days were hectic, especially when Frank traveled for work, but life was good: one boy, one girl, a complete family.

"And then I found out I was pregnant again. It was the Monday after Mother's Day; I got on the treadmill and just felt funny." Again, she had an easy pregnancy and a not-so-simple delivery: Bryce flipped and had to be turned in utero. During labor, Angela recalls, "I just kept thinking: There will be an end to this. Once it's over, everything will be better."

The couple thought No. 3 would be the last. Especially on the worst days: the trio boycotting naps and having simultaneous meltdowns, or the time Nason darted off at the supermarket. Should she chase him, leaving Ella and Bryce alone in the cart?

"There was an old lady watching who said, 'One day, you'll miss this. One day, they're going to be grown. It will get better.' But I needed it to get better right now."

Instead, life grew more chaotic when Angela realized, once again, that she was pregnant. This time, the kids were old enough to understand. They kissed Angela's belly, chorusing, "Hi, baby!" The boys lobbied for a brother, while Ella hoped for a little sister.

She got her wish: Shay came 15 days early, via C-section. At home, Frank cleaned and cooked for and bathed the older ones while Angela recovered.

Now, tumult is their new normal: all four kids piled with their parents in the queen-size bed, with Nason wedged between Frank's knees and Ella at his feet. Or the exuberant hubbub of family dinners: someone zooming a toy car on the table, someone spilling her water, Shay shrieking in the bouncy seat.

When they are out in public, colonizing an entire aisle at Target or filling a restaurant booth with noisy chatter, strangers swivel their heads and stare. "Two nights ago, we went for a walk with the dogs and kids, and a woman walked by and said, 'Well, you've got your hands full.' We get that all the time," Angela says.

The looks, whether judgmental or surprised, don't bother them. Frank can't picture himself separate from the entourage that is his family. And Angela, even in the toughest moments, conjures the words of that grandmother in the grocery store: Someday, you'll miss this. Cherish it now.

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