Home Now

It's five thirty Vermont time, and boy are we all jet-lagged. Last night at six, I lay on the bathroom floor moaning and wondering why I felt as if I had drank an entire bottle of cheap booze the night before when I haven't touched alcohol in the time since we heard about our miracle news from Rwanda. There just hasn't been time to drink. Still, I felt as if I had alcohol poisoning and all I could do was moan and complain all day. Not the best homecoming possible, but then at least we got home. Ariah fell asleep with me on the bathroom floor while trying to decide about dinner, crying because she couldn't decide if she wanted noodles or rice or broccoli or green beans. After 15 minutes of painstaking deliberation I took it as indication that she was too tired to do anything but sleep. I managed to move from horizontal to vertical long enough to make it to the bedroom, and we zonked out for the night. That left poor Scott on duty with Pacifique, but he's used to taking care of everything after we have a baby, so to a degree it is par for the course. With Ariah, I had a nasty recovery from the surgery that brought her into the world, and with Trace... well... Of course I wasn't able to do anything. Dad was up with Pacifique twice in the night- but the boy is still asleep for the tenth straight hour otherwise. That is a blessing, since we wondered if he would be all backwards schedule-wise form the time change.

We arrived in Wednesday night, midnight, after a admittedly hellish day on the plane. Flight leaving Addis was late departing, and four people in three sardine can plane seats is uncomfortable at best. There were times I had both children in my seat and the man in front of me nearly decapitated my knee cap when he rammed his seat back into me. Neither Scott or I were able to sleep as the seats are configured so that the only place your head can go is forward when you doze and we all know just how conducive that position is to sleeping. The flight was uneventful but long and when we arrived in Dulles we had about an hour and a half to clear immigration and customs, get our luggage out, check it back thru, check into United Airlines and RUN thru the airport for our Boston flight. We made it, running thru security and cutting in front of people, out of breath. The only truly hairy point was going thru customs with Pacifique. We hand the immigration officer our four passports, and he looks at Pacifiuqe and says, "I need the Yellow envelope". Silence, then he repeats. "Do you have the yellow envelope that came with the visa?" My breath catches standing here in the immigration line, people behind me, the final port-of-entry that we have been anticipating for so long, and I say, "You are kidding, right?" followed up very quickly with a "You officers probably don't joke, do you?" The officer is getting very uncomfortable and nervous. He is kind, not irritated at all, just exceedingly worried for the situation. We go over the details while my heart moves to my throat. "They gave us the passport and visa only, no yellow envelope. No one mentioned a yellow envelope. Scott went to pick up the visa.. .I wasn't there." Finally after about what feels like a suspension of time for at least 5 minutes, Scott digs in the black back pack we have been lugging around Kigali and Addis for over 2 weeks. The one we decided after much deliberation to include our adoption paperwork in even though we were technically finished, rather than get rid of the load and include it in with our checked baggage. He fishes around and pulls out a yellow-tinted manila envelope. "Is this it?" And the officer breathes a sigh of relief. My god, Oh, man my nerves... I could kill the guy right at this point. I guess he just doesn't pay attention to the details like I do. Like if the Consular in Addis handed me Pacifique's passport along with a hermetically sealed yellow envelope, I would likely inquire, "What is this big fancy envelope for with my son's photo on the outside for? Ah, but the point is we had it. If I ever become a Embassy Consular, I will be certain to tell people what that fancy important envelope is for. I will stress it to them, in case they decide to toss it before traveling home to lighten their load.

We board the plane with a minute to spare only to sit on the tarmac for an hour due to bad weather in Boston. Then we fly the hours flight only to land in Harrisburg, Pennsylvania to refuel. Yes, you read it right. There was no logic my brain could wrap itself around. We must have been doing figure eights all the way to Harrisburg, if you look at the map DC and Harrisburg are about a 10 minute walk apart. And refueling? We got fuel and found there was a ground stop in Boston, so there we waited for another hour and a half or so. I cannot tell you how anti-climactic that flight was... being so close to my folks waiting at Boston for us, but not being able to get there. When we finally did arrive, we determined what I suspected: there was not enough time for the Airline to get our luggage to the connection, so we are still without bags. Sigh. No wonder we all feel as if we haven't quite arrived yet.

Regardless of arriving late and my butt feeling like a mammoth rock had grown out of it sometime during the night, handing Pacifique to my mother was worth everything it took to come to that point. Watching her do exactly what I did when I first laid eyes on my son and he was put against my chest was the moment I had been anticipating with tears for three days solid. Upon arriving home in our dooryard at midnight, pulling all the last bags out of the van, I looked at our son asleep in his car seat, infant head cocked to one side. Jesus God (yes, I know I am swearing) did we go to the end of the world to pick up this little man, to bring him all the way back here to our little humble home in Vermont. I have been traveling the world over for two years and have finally found what I was being called to. A person, a human being, an entire life that I knew without a doubt was there, calling us to find him. Many wondered what I was after, why, doubted if I really knew. But I did, I have felt this particular child, this particular soul for nearly two years now, and we finally found him. Amen.

More later...

mama Jaya