Marian Helper Winter 2015-2016

12 M arian H elper • W inter 2015-16 •  marian.org M y wife and I were happy with our lives. We had good jobs. We traveled, helped with our church, and volunteered in our community. We weren’t looking for a “next big adventure.” But God had other plans. One night, three years ago, my wife, Kimmie, had a dream in which God told her of a baby girl who needed us to adopt her. We would later come to learn it was the same day our future daughter, Charlotte (“Lottie”), was born. When Kimmie shared her dreamwith me that morn- ing, I was shocked to say the least. I’m in my 50s and have two children in their 30s frommy first marriage. Kimmie, who I married in 2010, was unable to have children. Starting a family wasn’t on our agenda. Prompted by her dream that night, we prayed and we researched, and then we took classes to become foster parents with the goal of adopting. These classes exposed us to a cold and painful reality in our society today. So many parents are incapable of taking care of a child due to poverty, substance abuse, mental illness, and domestic violence. At the same time, there aren’t enough people willing to step up and rescue these children. Our local agency is constantly saving children like Lottie, but they have nowhere for them to go. What Kimmie and I have come to believe is that it’s no longer enough for us all to simply declare ourselves “pro-life.” One way or another, we — all of us — need to be the answer to the question: “Who will love and protect these children once they’re born?” Days after finishing the mounds of paperwork and class- es, we got the call to come get our foster child, a 6-month- old girl. She was severely underweight, practically skin and bones. She had gone through two foster families. Neither wanted to keep her because, as her state-appoint- ed attorney said, she was a “holy terror.” We were told she wouldn’t sleep or eat and that she would cry non-stop. Add to that, her motor skills had not yet developed as they should have. She couldn’t even roll over. When we were handed Lottie, she smiled at us. It was love at first sight. That evening, we sat her down in the highchair, and so began our life together. We got her to eat. By the second night, she slept for seven hours. She was crawling within a few weeks. Our excitement over her success was tempered by our heartbreak every time we learned more about her past and all she went through in utero and during her first six months. She had no foundation of love. She would turn anxious and fearful. The specialists advised us to hold her as much as possible. That was not a tough assignment. Still, even with all her anxieties, we have never seen the “holy terror.” Then one day, after about amonth of Lottie being in our care, we finally heard it—she laughed. Not just laughed; she belly laughed. Our hearts broke and soared at the same time. At nine months, she was doing great. She had gained weight. She was walking and talking. But nine months was also when the roller coaster began in the court sys- tem. Relatives of Lottie, including her biological parents, stepped forward to reclaim her. But just as soon as they stepped forward, they would disappear again. This went on. Meanwhile, the thought of someone else raising Lottie terrified us. We feared for her wellbeing. We despaired at the thought of living without her. Over and over again, I prayed, “Jesus, I trust in you.” For two years this went on. For two years Kimmie and I were legitimately fearful that Lottie would some day be taken away — that we’d never see her again. We reminded ourselves to focus on Lottie and trust in Jesus. A fewmonths ago, we were eating dinner and Lottie looked at us, a twinkle in her eye, pointed to each of us and said, “Daddy, Mommy, and Lottie. We are a family.” My wife and I scooped her up and did a group hug. “Yes,” we told her, “we are family.” Then, a miracle. This August, out of the blue, we got a phone call. The parents had finally signed their rights away. Lottie was all ours to adopt! Within the year, we will officially be a family, and nobody can take her away. Lottie still battles with her anxieties, but they are dimin- ishing. We are grateful to God for every moment with this child. Our child. Andrew Leeco is associate editor of Marian Helper magazine. F amily matters — the story of a father MH OUR GIFT FROM GOD By Andrew Leeco