Stevie

Hi, my name is Stevie. I'm two and a half, full of attitude and sunshine, and I have a story that many never expected would be written. My mom is writing it down for me because, for a long time, I didn’t have a voice. And now that I do, we want you to hear it. My beginning was not gentle. Before I ever took my first breath, I was exposed to drugs in utero, including fentanyl. I entered this world fighting battles many never face. The NICU became my first home, tubes, machines, nurses, and whispered prayers that maybe, just maybe, I would stay.

Doctors weren’t sure I’d live. Nurses weren’t sure. Even DFCS expected my story to end inside that hospital room. But God knew better. At five weeks old, an incredible NICU nurse reached out to DFCS and said words that would become a turning point:

“This little girl is fighting. With help and the right family, she can thrive.”

That same day, DFCS called the woman who would become my mother. She didn’t hesitate. She didn’t ask for details or time to think. She said yes. Before she ever held me, she chose me.

My mom came to the hospital daily to learn how to care for my fragile body. When the doctors finally felt hopeful enough to release me, she carried me out with shaking hands and a heart full of love. Life at home came with therapy appointments, weight checks, feeding support, and milestones that looked different from other babies my age. Even now, nearly three years later, I am still in feeding and occupational therapy. But today, I am thriving.

I am smart. I am funny. I love Spidey and playing pretend with my sisters. And I love spicy Doritos. (Yes… spicy.) I am sunshine with fire in it. I wasn’t expected to survive, but here I am, proving every day that miracles exist.

My story is being shared as the first feature in our Espino Family Christmas Series with JJP, not because fostering or adoption is simple, but because it is needed. There are still children waiting. Babies in NICUs. Toddlers in temporary beds. Teens aging out. Children are wondering if they matter.

Organizations like Georgia Kids Belong (America’s Kids Belong) work every day to advocate for children like me, ensuring they are seen, supported, and not forgotten.

Maybe you can't foster or adopt, but you can share stories, support foster families, pray, donate, advocate, or simply keep your heart open.

Every child deserves belonging.
Every child deserves permanence.
Every child deserves love that stays.

Thank you for seeing me, not for the struggle I began with, but for the life I’m living now: a daughter forever loved.

— Stevie (and Mom)