(One year ago this month, Pa and I made the trek to China to adopt our sweet Sister Susie. I am going to take the first seventeen TWENTY-NINE days of February 2008 to revisit that trip. Hop in for the ride!)
Airports invigorate me.
Just ask the Pa.
During our China trip, I usually walked about 10 paces ahead of him as we zipped through each of the twelve (!) airport stops.
He loves that about me.
Here he is (where I *let* him get a few paces ahead), at the Guangzhou airport--our first flight out of China:
This pleasant little flight...
Airports invigorate me.
Just ask the Pa.
During our China trip, I usually walked about 10 paces ahead of him as we zipped through each of the twelve (!) airport stops.
He loves that about me.
Here he is (where I *let* him get a few paces ahead), at the Guangzhou airport--our first flight out of China:
This pleasant little flight...
(Oh! We interrupt this story for a story-within-a-story...)
(Look! Do you see the big yellow sticker on Pa's left shoulder? That sticker stood for "Stupid American Who Speaks Only One Language And Can't Make His Way Around An International Airport Without The Help Of A Honkin' Yellow Sticker!!")
(It was a comforting thing...I suppose.)
(Though I can't for the life of me remember what the sticker really meant or how it helped us.)
(Unless it was just another form of the Chinese sense of humor.)
(Look! Do you see the big yellow sticker on Pa's left shoulder? That sticker stood for "Stupid American Who Speaks Only One Language And Can't Make His Way Around An International Airport Without The Help Of A Honkin' Yellow Sticker!!")
(It was a comforting thing...I suppose.)
(Though I can't for the life of me remember what the sticker really meant or how it helped us.)
(Unless it was just another form of the Chinese sense of humor.)
But that flight took us just to Hong Kong...
Where we boarded the next flight to Chicago O'Hare.
But more than just the thrill of jet-setting was the excitement of going home.
Home!
But before we reached the glorious It's Okay To Brush Your Teeth With The Tap Water place, we had miles to go before we slept.
Not a one of us (including the other four travel group families on the same flight) was looking forward to 14 hours on a plane with our babies.
And the biggest baby?
Me.
Shortly into the flight my head started pounding, migraine-like, and I did not recover until we landed in the states. Misery times ten.
And speaking of misery...
As we flew over Japan, we experienced some "turbulence," which should have been called "Mama! Mama! This Plane Is Inside Outside Upside Down!!"
So...when plates and hot coffee are flying all around?
That is not "turbulence."
And after things settled down, I confirmed that I was not the only adoptive parent on board that was praying rather fervently..."Dear God! We-have-come-this-far!! You are NOT going to kill us now!!! Do-You-Hear-Me??!?!?!?"
(I think he particularly liked it when I shook my finger at him.)
(As I sat in a big hunk of metal, thousands of feet above the ground.)
Suz was a real trooper, sleeping most of the time in the empty seat (oh, glory!) that just happened to end up beside us. Pa had the job of keeping her "happy" and fed. "Happy" meaning "not crying more than six times every hour."
And after 14 hours of baby food spills and formula feedings and spit ups and diaper leaks--that girl was One Stinkin' Disaster.
Fortunately I had the foresight to pack a change of clothes for her. None for us, of course. We were right back where we started, smelling up the place with our stench.
Landing at O'Hare was one of the Most Delightful parts of that day. Oh, the Blessed Relief of being Off That Plane.
But we had no time to savor the moment, as we were herded through customs and from terminal to terminal, all with luggage and baby in tow. By this time, our front-pack baby carrier was no good, as it had sat on the floor of the plane and was currently soaking wet (more stink).
So we had a baby to manhandle, all the while keeping our Very Important Alien Immigration Paperwork In Our Hands At All Times.
What? More paperwork?
Yep.
During a time when we were Incoherent, we still had some red tape to go through.
I mean, it isn't every day that you try to sneak a person into the country that you didn't leave with.
So I guess it makes sense.
But still. I don't know what was in that envelope or who I gave it to, but we were eventually free to catch our next flight.
It was all such a frantic blur--those moments between flights. We didn't get a chance to say a proper "goodbye" to any of our travel mates as we rushed to the next stop. Nor were we able to take any pictures of the Red Tape Parade.
And as the room continued to spin, one of my first thoughts after landing at O'Hare was..."Where are all the Asians? What is with all these different colors of hair? And why is nearly everyone white? And speaking English?"
It was reverse culture shock at its best.
The other thing I noticed was that there were people who saw our little family, and "got it." They knew we had just stepped off the plane from China. They knew that the girl we were holding was not our daughter by birth. She was our daughter by choice.
And that was a lovely, affirming thing.
And at that point, it hit me once again: We did it. We had laid out our values, and followed our dreams. And those dreams led us to a girl not with blue eyes and curls, but one from across the world.
We had touched American soil. Suz was a citizen; Suz was our girl.
