The wind howled that night outside Fire Station #14, rattling the windows as I sipped a lukewarm coffee during my shift. My partner, Joe, came in joking about my caffeine obsession, but our banter was cut short by the faint sound of a baby crying outside. Stepping into the biting cold, we found a newborn wrapped in a worn-out blanket, left in a basket by the door. As I held him in my arms, something indescribable stirred deep inside me. We called Child Protective Services, but I couldn’t stop thinking about that little boy. When no one came forward in the following weeks, I made a decision that would change my life forever: I started the adoption process.
Adopting Leo wasn’t easy. Between paperwork, home inspections, and social workers questioning whether a single firefighter could raise a child, it was a tough road. But with Joe’s support, I faced every challenge head-on. Months later, I officially became Leo’s dad. Life turned into a whirlwind of mismatched socks, bedtime stories, and chaotic breakfasts—but I loved every second of it. Watching Leo grow—his curiosity about dinosaurs and his passion for adventure—filled my days with joy, even as I juggled life at the fire station with fatherhood.
