Warning: This is long.
The very same night that we moved the boys, we started working on priming the bedroom for it's new color. We had lots of cooks in the kitchen for this job but the boys were so excited to be helping that I couldn't say no.......at first. After three pairs of ruined pants and many brushes of primer in inappropriate places I nixed my three helpers and decided to finish after bedtime.

So, backing up: In December last year Bobby and I had really been praying for some direction regarding our adoption. In July of this year it will be 3 years since we started the process. Waiting that long had really begun to wear on my emotional stability. It's just a hard roller coaster to ride for that long. We received word via a very knowledgeable, reliable source, unrelated to our adoption agency,
that quote "if you are waiting on a referral of a girl, healthy, 0-3 years old from El Salvador, it's NOT going to happen". Apparently the government is not issuing certificates of adoptability to those children. Don't know why. Doesn't make sense. Big blow. We contacted our agency and had a meeting set up for the end of January.
Another pic of all the sorta helpers:
We headed out on an almost 8 hour drive to our agency to meet with the CEO. He confirmed what we had been told and spoke of all the uncertainty in adoption in ES. His wife, who is the head of our agency's domestic adoption program sat in on the meeting. She suggested that, even though they don't usually do so, that we put our name in the domestic hat and just see what might happen. I had already researched this option and am not joking when I say that 4 other agencies had told me, "Birthmothers do NOT choose families like yours (with that many biological kids)". Several would not even consider our application. My agency normally wouldn't, but since we'd been waiting so long they made an exception.
I (along with a very, very talented and dear friend), put a scrapbook together of our family. Our book was sent out by our agency at the first of February. We didn't share that we were exploring this option. We just wanted to keep it to ourselves for the time being because we knew the chances were slim and we didn't feel like explaining it, to tell the truth.
In the meantime, still living expectantly on God, my mom, my sister and I finished the painting. (This pic was taken yesterday so I've obviously added some extra things.......like curtains ,a rug, and a chandelier that I was told EVERY girl needed in her bedroom).
On February 9th and 10th my email inbox was flooded with friends from my bible study and church group sending well wishes, prayers, and encouragement regarding our adoption. I thought Dr. Phil was going to show up because I was convinced someone had set up an intervention for me. He never showed though and I was thankful. If I were going to be on television for an intervention I would like to have a cute, new outfit. I didn't. So it worked out for the best.
Her little bathroom is now pink and this is a really bad picture of it:
Friday, February 12 was just as normal as any other day. I had to be at two places at once since the boys were having Valentine Parties in their classrooms. I started out in Cade's room and then after about 30 minutes made my way back down to Grant's room to monitor his sugar intake. I kept hearing a strange noise and then it registered......my phone. My phone is ringing that special ring that I set it to just in case one of these years my agency actually calls me with some type of information. My phone has NEVER rung it's special ring. NEVER. Until this day. I answered quickly and I'd be lying if I said my heart wasn't beating as fast as it was when I won the blue ribbon for fastest sprinter in the fifth grade, or if I said there was no way my pits were sweating. It was my agency with "the call".......a birthmother had chosen our book. What? A BIRTHMOTHER HAD CHOSEN OUR BOOK!! I may have said, "Shut your mouth!" or "Shut up!" Whatever I said wasn't a nice thing to say to the woman who is calling to give you great news! She didn't seem offended.
I then cried, in the hallway of my son's school, like someone had just shot my puppy. I couldn't believe it. After all the negative feedback, after all the neigh sayers, after all the waiting. Our family was picked. God's fulfilling his promise. There is a light at the end of the tunnel.
And, just to add a little more praise where praise is due: Bobby and I had prayed specifically that a hispanic woman would choose our book. We had been picturing our daughter with brown skin and brown hair for so long we couldn't imagine anything else. I had asked Bobby, "What if they give us a white baby?" He said, "White baby? I've never thought about having a white baby." Which cracked us both up since we are, in fact, white!
And just as God would have it a Puerto Rican woman chose us....and her baby is fathered by a man from Honduras. 100% hispanic, just as the desire of our hearts.....one beautiful, newborn, Hondurican baby girl!! (Don't look up Hondurican. I made it up. But I feel certain that I like the way it sounds and I may just coin it as a new nationality.) Yeah for some pink for this testosterone laden family! Looks like come May the look of this family is going to be forever changed!
Stay tuned....this story might not be over just yet :) Next up: Mission Trip posts. It takes a person a long time to sift through 2,500 photos in order to blog about them!