When LC found out she was pregnant, she never could have imagined how much her life was about to change — not just because of her baby, but because of the community of strangers who would become her lifeline. 

“I’m the youngest of three girls,” she shared. “My sisters already have kids, so when I got pregnant, it was kind of a big deal. But there’s a lot of distance in my family right now. My parents haven’t even met my baby yet. That’s been hard.” 

Prior to her pregnancy, LC was living in Texas, struggling to find work after losing her job. Rent and bills piled up until she had nowhere to go. “I ran out of money,” she said. “My ex — my daughter’s father — told me to come back to Michigan. He said he’d help me get back on my feet.” 

“I thought that meant we’d start over,” LC remembered. “I really believed he was going to be there for me.” 

For a while, it looked that way. She found part-time work and began piecing her life back together. But when she told him she was pregnant, his response cut deep. 

“He just stared at me,” she said. “And then he said, ‘You can’t have this baby. We’re not ready for that. Either get rid of it or leave.’” 

They argued for weeks until the pressure broke her down. “I was scared, and I didn’t know what to do. I said maybe he was right.” 

Three times, he scheduled appointments for her at an abortion clinic. Three times, she couldn’t go through with it. “Every time, something inside me said no. I couldn’t do it. I told him, ‘If I go through with this, it’s because you want it, not because I do.’” 

The last appointment was the same day she was supposed to move into a maternity home. He came to pick her up, expecting her to follow through. Instead, LC told him she was keeping the baby. He drove off without another word. That was the last time she saw him for months. 

The maternity home was ready for LC while she struggled with doubt. “I cried every night at first,” she said. “I didn’t know if I’d made the right choice. I didn’t know how I was going to do this on my own.” 

But the staff welcomed her with gentle smiles and simple kindness. There were other women there, too—each one with her own story of fear and unexpected courage. Slowly, LC began to settle in. 

“I started to realize I wasn’t alone,” she said. “We’d eat dinner together, talk about our days, pray before bed. It was the first time in a long time that I felt safe.” 

Still, practical worries never stopped coming. Her car insurance was overdue, and her job search wasn’t going well. She had no savings and no family nearby who could help. “I was just trying to survive,” she said. “Then one of the staff told me, ‘Call LoveLine. They help moms like you.’” 

When LC reached out to LoveLine, she didn’t expect much. “I figured they’d give me a few resources, maybe a phone number or two,” she said. “But instead, a real person answered. She connected me to my case manager, Lisa.” 

Lisa listened patiently as LC shared her story—how she had lost her job, left her relationship, and was trying to rebuild her life while preparing to welcome her baby. “Lisa didn’t make me feel embarrassed or like I’d messed up,” LC said. “She just said, ‘Okay, let’s figure this out together.’” 

LoveLine paid for LC’s car insurance, which she had been days away from losing. When she expected the support to last just one month, she learned that six months had been covered instead. “I just sat there and cried,” LC said. “I wasn’t expecting that kind of help. It felt like a huge weight lifted off my shoulders.” 

Over the next few months, Lisa stayed in touch—checking in, praying with her, and helping her find resources for baby supplies and budgeting. LC says that consistency made all the difference. “She’d text just to say, ‘How are you doing today?’” LC smiled. “Nobody had done that for me in a long time.” 

The months leading up to her daughter’s birth were filled with small miracles—each one arriving in God’s perfect timing. When LC’s car was on the brink of repossession, an anonymous donor stepped in with a $1,000 payment. “It came out of nowhere,” LC said. “I was down to the wire. I still remember Lisa calling me and saying, ‘We’ve got you covered.’ That was God right there.” 

Though LC’s faith had always been part of her life, something changed during those months. “Before all this, I only talked to God when I was desperate,” she said. “Now I talk to Him every day—when I’m grateful, when I’m stressed, even when I’m tired. It’s like He’s part of my daily routine.” 

Her daughter arrived just hours after her due date—a healthy, perfect baby girl. “She’s a prompt baby! Everything went exactly according to my birth plan,” she recalled. “No IV, no medication, just the way I wanted,” she said. 

Holding her daughter for the first time, LC felt something she hadn’t felt in a long time—peace. “Everything just went quiet,” she said. “I looked at her little face and thought, I almost missed this.” 

Motherhood brought new challenges, but also new purpose. LC had always wanted to help others, and after finishing her social work degree, she started applying for jobs. “I was seven months pregnant when I went to the interview,” she said. “I told them right away, ‘I’m due soon, but I’m committed to working hard.’” 

They hired her on the spot. 

Her supervisor told her to take her time adjusting after the birth, assuring her that her position would be waiting when she was ready. 

Now, as she balances maternity leave with the joys and sleepless nights of new motherhood, LC is preparing for the next step—finding permanent housing and childcare so she can return to work. “It’s a lot to juggle,” she said, “but I’ve learned that when I trust, things fall into place.” 

When LC talks about LoveLine, her voice fills with gratitude. “They didn’t just pay bills,” she said. “They reminded me that people still care—that I wasn’t forgotten.” 

Each act of generosity—every car payment, every check-in, every word of encouragement—became a thread in a larger safety net woven by strangers who believed in her. “The donors who gave? They have no idea how much they changed my life,” LC said. “Because of them, I can keep my car, keep my job, and keep my baby safe.” 

She remembers one moment vividly: holding her newborn late one night, scrolling through old photos on her phone—the ones taken in those early, uncertain weeks. “I looked at how far we’d come,” she said softly. “From almost losing everything to having everything we need. That’s what love looks like in real life.” 

LC’s journey isn’t perfect, and she’s the first to say so. “I still have hard days,” she said. “I still get scared about the future. But now, I know I’m not doing this alone.” 

Through every unexpected turn, she’s learned that motherhood isn’t about having all the answers—it’s about choosing love even when the path is hard. “People talk about reclaiming motherhood,” she said. “For me, that means believing I can do this—that my baby deserves a mom who doesn’t give up. It’s not just an aesthetic.” 

As her daughter grows, LC dreams of the stability she’s building step by step: a home of their own, laughter echoing through the rooms, a life filled with ordinary, sacred moments. “I want her to grow up knowing she was wanted,” LC said. “Even when it was hard, even when it was scary, I chose her.” 

She pauses, smiling down at the tiny face nestled against her chest. “And every time I look at her, I know I made the right choice.” 

When LoveLine staff ask LC how she’s doing these days, she doesn’t hesitate. “We’re good,” she says. “We have everything we need.” 

Those words—everything we need—echo like a quiet benediction, the kind that wraps itself around a story still unfolding. LC’s journey is a testament to what happens when compassion meets courage, and when ordinary people—donors, volunteers, staff—say yes to showing up for a mom in crisis. 

In her own quiet way, LC is now paying that love forward. She mentors a younger woman at her maternity home, helping her navigate the same fears she once faced. “I tell her, ‘You’re stronger than you think,’” LC said. “Because someone told me that when I needed it most.” 

For those who’ve given to LoveLine, LC’s story is proof that their generosity doesn’t just meet needs—it changes destinies. 

“It’s not just about money or supplies,” LC said. “It’s about hope. You gave me hope when I couldn’t see it for myself. You helped me believe I could do this. Your selflessness and donations have a greater impact than you might think. Even if you think it’s something small, it can have a big impact. And it proves to me that there are good people in the world and that God will provide for you if you ask for it from literal strangers.”