My wife was three months pregnant with our third child when she suddenly miscarried. Complications forced an emergency hysterectomy, and the loss shattered her. Grief settled over our home, and nothing seemed to reach her until we joined a support group run by a former NICU nurse named Bernice.
Bernice gently suggested fostering. Slowly, the idea became a lifeline. After the classes and home study, we were approved.
Then we got the call about Elijah—a newborn with no family available. The moment Mireya held him, I saw a spark return. We told ourselves not to get attached, but we did.
Months later, his birth grandmother, Ms. Reenie, was found. She loved him instantly, but due to safety concerns involving her adult son, she wasn’t approved to take him. She was heartbroken, and I felt for her.
A year later, when we adopted Elijah, she gave us a photo album of his mother and stayed in his life as “Grandma Reenie.”
Now Elijah is a happy toddler, and our home feels alive again. We didn’t get the baby we expected, but we found a different kind of miracle.
