Sometimes, one photo can shift the entire course of your life.

That’s what happened to Steve and Rob Anderson-McLean. They weren’t scrolling through vacation spots or home listings. They were on an adoption website when six faces stopped them in their tracks. In that photo, they saw more than children—they saw connection, resilience, and a bond that had already endured more than it ever should have. Rob said it best: “We saw their picture and fell in love.”

Most people would’ve paused. Six kids? That’s a lot. But Steve and Rob didn’t flinch. These children had already been shuffled between homes, uprooted from each other, and placed in a system that didn’t guarantee they’d stay together. The couple knew exactly what that meant—and exactly what they had to do.

They weren’t looking for the perfect situation. They were ready to show up anyway. Because love doesn’t wait for ideal timing—it responds when it’s needed most.

A Broken System and Six Kids Caught in It

Before Steve and Rob entered their lives, Carlos, Guadalupe, Maria, Selena, Nasa, and Max had already seen too much.

They entered foster care in 2017 after suffering neglect and abuse. What followed was a cycle of temporary homes and repeated goodbyes. Each move chipped away at their trust. Each separation tested the only constant they had left—their bond as siblings.

In the foster system, staying together is more of a hope than a guarantee. Large sibling groups, especially ones with older children, are rarely kept intact. Statistics show that around 75% of sibling groups in foster care are split up. Agencies often prioritize individual placements, especially for the younger ones. It’s not about a lack of compassion—it’s about capacity, resources, and a system stretched too thin.

But for the six siblings, being together was survival. They weren’t just brothers and sisters. They were each other’s protectors, each other’s lifeline. And the longer they stayed in the system, the more that bond was at risk.

Steve and Rob knew what they were walking into. But they also knew this: separating those kids would only add to the damage. And they weren’t going to let that happen.

Love at First Sight

In 2018, Steve and Rob Anderson-McLean came across a photo on an Ohio adoption website. Six siblings—Carlos, Guadalupe, Maria, Selena, Nasa, and Max—were pictured together, their expressions quiet but strong. There was something in their eyes that stopped the couple cold. Rob later said, “We saw their picture and fell in love.”

Most would’ve hesitated. Adopting one child is a life-changing decision. Adopting six, all at once, is something else entirely. But Steve and Rob didn’t see a number. They saw a family that deserved to stay together.

They already knew how the system worked—how sibling groups were often separated, especially larger ones. Older kids get overlooked. Younger ones are adopted out first. The bonds between brothers and sisters, already strained by trauma, are often broken by red tape and resource limits. Rob put it plainly: “So many sibling groups are broken up because people just want to adopt the younger children. Steve and I knew these guys needed to be together.”

In July of that year, all six kids moved into the Anderson-McLean home. There wasn’t a perfect plan, just a deep commitment to give these children the one thing the system had failed to provide: stability.

The early days were full of firsts. Trips to the zoo. Playing in the yard. Simple things, but new to them. Steve remembered it clearly: “Having fun was new to them.” And amid all the quiet adjustments came one question that said more than any official paperwork ever could.

“Can we stay forever?”

It wasn’t just a moment—it was a shift. A sign that the kids were starting to believe in something they hadn’t felt in years: safety. Permanence. A home that wouldn’t vanish overnight.

Steve and Rob had made their decision the moment they saw that photo. But now, the children were starting to make theirs too.

Building Trust, One Day at a Time

The adjustment didn’t happen overnight. When Carlos, Guadalupe, Maria, Selena, Nasa, and Max moved in, they brought more than clothes and belongings. They carried years of disappointment, fear, and unanswered questions. After being bounced between homes for so long, stability felt unfamiliar. Trust didn’t come easily. Why would it?

But Steve and Rob weren’t just offering space—they were offering presence. They showed up every day. With meals. With consistency. With patience. They weren’t trying to replace anyone. They were trying to build something new.

The kids responded in small but powerful ways. A laugh during a board game. A question at bedtime. A little less hesitation when saying “Dad.” Simple things—but when you’ve spent years surviving, those are breakthroughs.

There were concerns, too. Steve worried that Carlos, the oldest, might have a hard time adjusting to having two dads. He was a teenager, already carrying so much. But that fear faded quickly. “We thought with Carlos being a teen, he might have a hard time, but it has not bothered him one bit,” Steve said.

By showing up for the kids as they were—not who anyone expected them to be—Steve and Rob helped them feel safe again. The house wasn’t just quieter. It was softer. The kind of quiet that comes when someone finally exhales.

Adoption Day: A New Chapter Begins

On May 23, 2019, the waiting ended. After months of parenting classes, court hearings, paperwork, and late nights filled with both hope and anxiety, Steve and Rob sat in a courtroom surrounded by the six children who had already become their family in every way that mattered. All that remained was a signature to make it official.

For the kids, that day wasn’t just about legal status. It was a turning point—something permanent in a world that had rarely offered that kind of certainty. Carlos, who had spent so long looking out for his siblings, finally got to lay down that burden. “I’m not a foster kid anymore,” he said. “I don’t have to carry that title around. I finally have a real family.”

Even Max, the youngest, felt the shift. In the middle of the celebration, he looked up and asked, “I’m adopted. You can’t be unadopted, right?” His question wasn’t naive—it was honest. A quiet echo of the fear every one of them had carried for years. Steve answered without hesitation: No, you’re ours forever.

That courtroom moment wasn’t about formality. It was about closing one chapter and opening another. Not perfect. Not without challenges. But finally—safe. Real. Permanent.

They walked in that day as a foster family. They walked out as the Anderson-McLeans.

Life Today: Chaos, Laughter, and the Love They Chose

Life after adoption didn’t slow down—it sped up.

With six newly adopted children and two sons from Rob’s previous marriage, Parker and Noah, the Anderson-McLean household became a full house in every sense of the word. The quiet moments? Rare. The laundry? Endless. The love? Constant.

Steve left his job as a wedding planner to become a full-time stay-at-home dad. He traded reception halls and timelines for school drop-offs, homework help, and packing lunches for eight. Rob, still working as an engineer for Norfolk Southern Railway, stayed just as hands-on, balancing work life with bedtime stories and family dinners.

They made changes, big and small. One of their first purchases? A minivan, quickly dubbed the “soccer dad van,” built for hauling a crew that large around town. The house filled with noise—laughter, sibling squabbles, inside jokes, the kind of joyful chaos that only a big family knows.

But more important than any routine were the shifts happening inside each child.

Carlos stepped into life as a big brother without the weight of survival. Maria and Guadalupe started thriving at school, their natural leadership and curiosity finally given space to grow. Selena’s sense of humor brought everyone together. Nasa, fascinated by how things work, found new outlets for her curiosity. Max, once quiet and unsure, started laughing louder, running faster, and holding on tighter—not because he was afraid, but because he finally felt safe.

Every Friday, they hit the trampoline park as a tradition. They visit the zoo, go on family outings, cook dinner together. These aren’t grand moments. But after what the siblings had been through, they matter more than most people realize.

Steve and Rob didn’t just adopt six kids. They built a home where healing is possible—one day, one hug, one breakfast together at a time.

What Makes a Family

Family isn’t built by blood alone. It’s built by choice. By presence. By staying when it’s hard, listening when it’s quiet, and loving even when you’re still learning how.

Steve and Rob didn’t take in six siblings because it was easy. They did it because those kids deserved a chance to grow up together—not scattered across homes, not wondering what tomorrow would bring. Just together.

That choice changed everything. Not just for the children—but for the dads too. What started with a photo turned into a life filled with trampoline park Fridays, backyard soccer, missed shoes at the door, and more noise than either of them expected. And they wouldn’t trade it for anything.

Their story isn’t about perfection. It’s about showing up anyway. About believing that love is enough to start the healing, and commitment is what keeps it going.

And maybe that’s the takeaway. You don’t need to be perfect to be a parent. You don’t need a picture-perfect plan to make a difference. Sometimes, all it takes is the courage to say yes—to open your heart, open your home, and keep saying yes, even when it’s hard.

Because sometimes, the strongest families are the ones we choose.

Featured Image Source: Steve Anderson on Facebook