At 56, Hoda Kotb had survived cancer, claimed the Today throne, and adopted two perfect daughters—Haley and baby Hope. Then, deep in pandemic lockdown with fiancé Joel Schiffman, she stared at their tiny clasped hands and whispered the dangerous question: “Can we do this again?” Every answer roared YES—love, space, joy, all endless. But one terror clawed at her: as an older mom, would she live long enough to watch them grow old together? She told Joel, voice trembling, “I think we did it…” as the girls danced, unaware

Hoda Kotb’s Open Door to Baby No. 3: “All the Answers Seem to Say Yes”

In the fall of 2020, Hoda Kotb was riding a wave of pandemic silver linings. The *Today* co-host, then 56, had welcomed Haley Joy (3½) and Hope Catherine (17 months) through adoption with fiancé Joel Schiffman. Quarantine gifted her uninterrupted mornings, preschool drop-offs, and a front-row seat to every milestone. “I didn’t miss a minute of Hope,” she told *PEOPLE*, cherishing the unexpected slowdown.

Amid that domestic bliss, Kotb floated a tantalizing possibility: a third child. “I’ve had many conversations with Joel,” she revealed. The checklist was unanimous—space, love, capacity—all green lights. “Can we? Yes. Will our family be better? Yes. Do we have enough love? Yes.” Yet she adopted a wait-and-see philosophy: “You just wait and see if it’s meant to be.”

Her outlook on family defied convention. “Families come in so many shapes and sizes,” she said. “As long as there’s lots of love, they’ll endure.” Adoption had already proven that truth; Haley and Hope arrived “at the exact right time.” Kotb’s inspirational book *This Just Speaks to Me* (October 13, 2020) echoed the theme—finding meaning in life’s detours.

Motherhood at 52 and 54 hadn’t dimmed her joy, despite occasional mom-shaming about age. Watching the sisters hold hands in their apartment, Kotb teared up. “One of my concerns as an older mom is they be loved forever,” she confessed to Schiffman. That tender tableau—two tiny girls pacing, palms linked—silenced the fear. “I think they’re lifelong, forever.”

Daily rituals fueled the dream. Socially distanced preschool pickups became sacred. Haley sprinting out, arms wide, while Kotb scooped her up six feet from chatting moms. Drop-offs offered proud glimpses: Haley pointing, “That’s my mom out there,” nearly moving Kotb to weep.

Pandemic isolation amplified gratitude. “It’s a different world,” she said, yet every second with her talking toddler and preschooler felt golden. Kotb’s optimism—honed through cancer survival, career pivots, and late-in-life love—framed expansion as destiny, not decision. “I’m just going to wait and see on that one.”

Five years later, with Haley nearing 9 and Hope 6, the question lingers. Kotb left *Today* in 2025 to reclaim family time, posting recent snaps with Schiffman (now ex) and the girls. The door she cracked in 2020 remains ajar—love abundant, fate the only gatekeeper. In Kotb’s world, third times aren’t charms; they’re callings.