We didn't spot a market gap. We lived it.

There wasn't one moment. There were dozens of them, starting the day my son was born and taken straight to the NICU.

I'd already been drifting from my own health before then: my weight, how I ate, how often I moved. Movement had always been part of who I was. I played high-level hockey through high school and just after, and lifting and yoga were where I felt most at home. I'd been struggling to get back to both for a while.

Then my son arrived and became our whole world. I thought about my health constantly. But being there for him, and for my wife as she healed, came first. Setting myself aside felt like what had to happen.

My brother-in-law Ben, now my co-founder, and I have always worked out together, usually at our family cottage. I'd plan our workouts around my son's naps, which was also when my wife could finally rest. I lost count of how many times he woke up halfway through. I'd bring him back with us, set him in his bouncer with a toy, and try to finish. It almost never worked.

It didn't matter whether we'd put the workout together ourselves or pulled it from an app. Nothing let me pause and pick up where I left off when life allowed.

The more I thought about it, the more I questioned the rule I'd been following: that a workout only counted if it lasted 45 minutes or an hour. Surely that couldn't be the only way for a parent to stay active and healthy.

And every one of those hours had a cost. Taking one meant leaving my wife, who was carrying the same physical and mental load I was. The guilt usually won, and I'd skip the workout to be with her. I don't regret that at all. I cherish the time we had together in those early days. But I kept thinking there had to be a better way.

So I started writing it down. That became DadFit: an app to help new dads get back to caring about their physical health, so they could show up for their partner and their baby.

I'd drafted the concept, a prototype and the philosophy behind it when my wife started talking about something bigger.

Our time in the NICU had taught us that when you become a parent for the first time, there's no roadmap and no obvious community to lean on. That's especially true when the start doesn't go the way you pictured, whether that's a premature birth, a pregnancy loss or postpartum depression. My wife had wished for somewhere to connect with parents going through what we were, and for access to real professionals who could give her tools to look after her mental health.

Then one night it clicked: what if one place held all four parts of a parent's wellness, meaning movement, mental wellness, nutrition and community?

That was the start of WellParent. I set DadFit aside and started building.

One place for all four parts of a parent's wellness, built for the everyday parent across the full 18-year journey. Room to stop, and room to return.