My name is Kristine. I am a paramedic and first responder in the state of Kansas, a wife, a mom, and a caregiver to my elderly grandparents. I never imagined that I would be here, asking for help to bring my husband home – not from war or disaster, but from an immigration system that tore him from our family even though he has been here legally, working, paying taxes, and building a life with us for the past six years.

My husband’s name is Carlos Andrade.

Carlos has lived in the United States for six years. He is a highly skilled and respected Lead Mitigation Technician, IICRC-certified in Water Restoration. His employer was actively training him for promotion to Field Engineer and eventually Project Manager because of his dedication, his leadership, and his integrity. He is known at work for doing things the right way, respecting everyone he meets, and showing up for people at some of the worst moments in their lives, when their homes have been damaged or destroyed.

At home, he is even more: a loving husband, a devoted father, and a steady provider. He has paid his taxes, followed the rules, and worked hard every single day to build a life for our family in this country.

Carlos is originally from Venezuela. He has a withholding of removal because it is not safe for him to return, and he previously had Temporary Protected Status (TPS) until the program was canceled. We have also been in the process of making his status permanent: we have a pending I-130 and I-485 application for him to become a lawful permanent resident. We have done everything through the proper legal channels. In May 2025, immigration placed Carlos under intensive supervision through ISAP. No one could explain why. He had no new court proceedings and nothing had changed about his case. We complied fully. Every month, we showed up for his check-ins.

On January 28, our world shattered.

Carlos went in for his routine check-in at 9:00 a.m. Instead of updating his supervision, immigration officers detained him on the spot. After removing him from the facility, staff called my name, handed me a bag with his belongings, and led me quietly out a side door “so I wouldn’t scare the rest of the immigrants” who were still waiting for their appointments. He was transferred to Kay County Detention Center in Newkirk, Oklahoma.

I scheduled a visit for January 30 at 1:00 p.m. I was told to bring documents for his case and a bag of personal items for when he would be released. We truly believed this was a misunderstanding that could be cleared up. Then I got the phone call that changed everything.

Carlos told me that an immigration officer presented him with a form and said he had to sign to “cooperate with ICE or face federal charges and be deported either way.” They did not tell him what those supposed charges would be. Terrified and alone, he signed.

Carlos has legal protections because of his Venezuelan nationality and had been in legal status under TPS before it was canceled. None of that was respected. He was told he would be taken to the border and made to walk across into Mexico with nothing but his belongings and an expired passport. His flight out was scheduled for January 30 – the very day I was supposed to visit him.

I dropped everything, threw his personal items in a bag, and drove from Kansas City to Oklahoma. I managed to get his bag to an officer, but that was all I could do. I hired an attorney right away to file an emergency motion for a stay, hoping to get his case in front of a judge before they forced him out of the country.

We drove to the immigration office on Ambassador Drive in Kansas City to file the motion in person, as required. When we arrived, there was a protest outside. The protest had shut the office down due to safety concerns, and we could not file. While we were blocked at the door, my husband was being moved.

The next morning, I was finally able to locate him. He had been transferred to the ERO El Paso Camp East Montana facility in El Paso, Texas – a detention center that has made national headlines because of the recent death of an immigrant there that was ruled a homicide. Families report that many people held there cannot see their loved ones at all. Some do not hear from them for days after arrival because phones are so limited.

I cannot describe the feeling of knowing the man you love – who has done everything right – is being held in a place like that, far from home, without you by his side, and potentially on a path to a country where his safety is not guaranteed.

Despite all of this, I am fighting with everything I have.

I am working with an immigration attorney to:

*File emergency motions to stop or delay his removal

*Reopen and defend his case

*Protect his rights given his Venezuelan nationality and prior TPS

*Advocate for him to be allowed to return home while his immigration process and our pending I-130/I-485 are resolved

This has already required immediate and significant legal work, and it will be a long, expensive fight.

I am also a human being who has reached her limit.

I work as a paramedic in Kansas, responding daily to emergencies and trauma. I am also the primary caregiver for my elderly grandparents, who rely heavily on my support. This crisis has forced me to take time off from my job to preserve my mental health and to focus on saving my husband from being deported and left in a dangerous situation with an expired passport in a country that is not his own.

If Carlos is ultimately deported, we will be forced to consider moving to another country to keep our family together. That would mean abandoning my grandparents, pulling our children away from the only home they’ve known, and starting over somewhere unsafe or unfamiliar. Even getting Carlos somewhere relatively safe would require dangerous travel from the border to the Venezuelan consulate in Mexico City, a 12+ hour journey, just to renew an expired passport.

All of this is happening not because he broke the law, but because a system chose to treat a hardworking, tax-paying, family man as disposable.

Why I am asking for help:

I am creating this GoFundMe to help cover:

*Attorney and legal fees (filing motions, emergency stays, representation, appeals)

*Travel, lodging, and related costs as I try to see him, attend hearings, and deliver documents in person

*Costs related to any safe relocation we may be forced to make if he is deported (temporary housing, transportation, basic needs)

*Lost income from the time I have had to take off as a first responder to navigate this crisis and care for my family

We have already spent what we can. The legal process ahead will be long, complex, and incredibly expensive, but this is my husband, my partner, and the man who has committed himself to this country and to our family. I cannot give up on him.

Who Carlos is:

*He has been in the U.S. for 6 years.

*He works full-time, pays taxes, and wants only to live peacefully and legally in this country.

*He is highly respected at work and was actively being promoted. His company has written in support of him, describing his professionalism, integrity, and leadership.

*He is a loving husband, a father, and a provider.

*He has legal grounds to remain here and pending applications to become a permanent resident.

What your help means:

*Your donation, of any amount, will go directly toward bringing Carlos home and giving us a real chance in this legal fight. It will help us:

*Keep an attorney working on his case

*File the necessary motions and appeals in time

*Maintain stability for our children and my grandparents as we navigate this nightmare

*Worse case, get Carlos the funds needed to establish himself in a new country

*Fight not just for Carlos, but to shed light on what is happening quietly to so many families in this country

If you cannot donate, you can still help by:

*Sharing this fundraiser

*Sharing our story

*Keeping our family in your thoughts and prayers

We promised each other that we would be together – in this country or another. I am fighting with everything I have so that we can keep that promise safely, legally, and together.

Thank you for taking the time to read our story and for standing with us in any way you can.