Right now I’m sitting in a room that I once absolutely despised. It was supposed to be my little girls room. It was supposed to be everything pink, whimsical, and all things pretty. It was supposed to be filled with high pitched laughter, tutus, nail polish, and Barbies. I was so absolutely sure that adopting this little girl was exactly what God told me to do.
I was wrong. I filled out all of the paperwork, mailed checks, and slowly checked off all of the boxes of everything that I was supposed to do. Then one morning, right before I was to drop off my two older boys at school, I received a phone call. I was so excited when I answered the phone because I knew it was the adoption agency. I hurriedly ran to my closet and shut the door to make sure it was completely silent and I could hear every word. As soon as I heard the voice on the other line, I knew something was wrong. I knew we had been denied. I asked every question I could think just to hear the voice on the other line say, “You’ll have another chance”, or “We can try this instead”, but every answer was “No”. There was absolutely nothing I could do to change the situation.
I was instantly brought to tears, but I had to take my boys to school. I was able to hold it together long enough to drop them off. Once I got home I didn’t know what to do with myself. It was like I was in shock. I was so sure of this whole process that being denied was not even something I ever thought was going to happen. It was something I never prepared my heart and mind to deal with.
I decided I needed some fresh air. I took my youngest son and the dog for a walk. And then it hit me. Right on the corner of the street I was sobbing. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t hold my emotions in for another second.
I had her entire room ready. She had a beautiful antique four post bed covered in a floral duvet with super fluffy pillows. A vanity and a night stand to match. I didn’t want to overdue her bedroom because she was used to sleeping in a room full of girls without much of anything else, so I left the walls bare. I wanted her to come home and go shopping with me to finish decorating her bedroom the way she wanted it.
It took me a long time to heal. Longer than I ever imagined. I was so angry at God, at my circumstances, at my life, but I truly believe everything does happen for a reason. I have learned to accept that my life is a blessing with three boys. I have also learned that God did know what he was doing because life with three boys is so completely overwhelming, especially when I am doing it all mainly by myself.
One day I woke up and decided to make something beautiful out of her room. I decided to become a LuLaRoe Fashion Consultant, so now her room is filled with dreams, goals, women’s laughter, and gorgeous clothes. It’s filled with confidence, women empowering other women, and a place for women to gather and have fun.
Sometimes painful experiences teach us lessons that we didn’t think we needed to know, and while I still am hurt, I know someday everything will make perfect sense. For now I am just going to enjoy each and everyday.
“The pain that you’ve been feeling, can’t compare to the joy that’s coming!” -Romans 8:18