Unconventional

My life has never been the stereotype for normalcy.

Teenagers don’t normally become home owners because their parent dies unexpectedly. 22-year-old girls aren’t normally fighting to walk down the aisle instead of using a wheelchair. Normally, relationships don’t start when you’re married to someone else.

The only thing I ever really did in the quote-unquote “right” way, was going to college, then getting married, and then trying to start a family. And after eight years of infertility and pcos . . . well, we all know how that one worked out.

So if you follow me on Instagram, you might have been surprised by a new face that’s popped up recently. This is Hayla.

While I’ve known Hayla for most of her little life, she came into our home about a month ago. We’ve been using the term “foster” parents/daughter because it’s the easiest to explain to a five-year-old and to the rest of the world that doesn’t need to know all the details.

Now there is a bedroom covered in everything Frozen, Caillou constantly on the TV, and lots of giggles from a little girl playing tag with three dogs up and down the hallway.

My heart is so full. Not just from Hayla herself, but from the way her mere presence has shifted and blossomed the relationships in my life. I couldn’t love Josh more than I do when I watch him ignite her imaginative whims with loud and obnoxious games, and when he soothes her tender, fragile spirit, curled up together on the sofa with a bedtime story.

Last weekend, my ex husband and Josh both attended an event and a comment was made that it seems like we’ve all ended up exactly where we were supposed to be. I think they’re right.

We all end up where we’re supposed to be, in this unconventional life. And I am so unbelievably grateful that this unconventional life I was blessed with is mine.