One family. Two years. Eight children.
That is a quick snapshot of our life as a foster family. When people see us out with our kids, they usually do not ask many questions. But I see the wonder, the judgment, and the curiosity in their eyes. Most just say, “I could never do that,” and move on.
Let me show you how it truly feels.
One day, while shopping at Target for pants for one of our foster kids, I got a call.
Grace, there is a newborn at the hospital with no one to care for her. She has no name. Can you come get her within an hour?”
My husband and I locked eyes. No discussion was needed. We simply said yes. We picked up baby clothes and diapers, grabbed the car seat from home, and 45 minutes later, we held the most beautiful little girl. Her legal name? Safe Surrender named after the hospital program she came through.
Four months later, we learned she had never been fully examined at birth. The doctors were worried. We cut our vacation short and took her to the hospital. They called out her legal name “Safe Surrender” over the loudspeaker. People stared. No one said it out loud, but I knew they were thinking, “Who names their child that?”
She went through many tests. Heart. Kidneys. Spine. She had multiple birth issues that needed surgery. She wore a colostomy bag for months. The county asked, “Can you handle this?” Yes, we could and we did.
We sat by her hospital bed. We figured out how to manage her health care. We paid for supplies. We bought special clothes. We comforted her when she cried. And we loved her. She slowly healed, grew stronger, and began to trust us. At 10 months, she had surgery to reverse the colonostomy. She never looked back.
Later, the county asked, “Would you adopt her?”
Yes. Absolutely.
Fostering is not easy. But what keeps us going is hope.
Hope that families can heal.
Hope that children can trust again.
Even in the mess, we believe we can create calm.
Hope that behind every tantrum is a story and healing can follow.
We listen, we cry, and we carry the weight. But hope lightens it.
Then came the big day.
On March 14, 2018, surrounded by 75 loved ones, I took the stand. My husband held the little girl who had been with us for 14 months. The judge asked,
“What is her name?”
I looked at her smiling face and said,
“Her name is Arya. Arya Hope.”
