27 and Counting

This is hour 27 of our trek home. At the moment Keza is curled up in my sweater, sound asleep on the floor in the Washington DC airport. The iPhone is in mom's hand and she is giddily welcoming Internet back into her life with the swipe of a finger. I am sitting here, double-tall-nonfat-toffee-nut-latte in hand (how I missed you, Starbucks) and am trying to process the gamut of emotions that have coursed through me this day.

Today we said goodbye to Africa. I'll be honest, it was not hard to leave Nairobi. But, as we sat in Ethiopia awaiting our second flight, the intercom sounded the call to board a flight leaving for Kigali. My heart constricted. Part of me never wants to leave Rwanda. I love that country. I could live there. I could. I'm not sure when it happened or how, but I love her and am sad to leave her behind. I suppose in way, though, she is with me right now, wrapped up in a little bundle at my feet.

The first flight was difficult. Keza was exhausted but fought sleep like a ringed professional. She cried and screamed 1 1/2 hours of the two hour flight. The second flight was awesome, minus being delayed in Rome which added 2 hours to the already 17 hours we would be in the plane. We got the best seats in the house after first class. We had no one in front of us, lots of leg room to stretch our limbs (so our swollen legs look much less like 'cankles' than they did the first time around) and a bassinet for the baby to sleep in.

Customs and Immigration took a total of 3 minutes. I asked God to give me a male customs officer (Why are men ALWAYS nicer and more helpful?..OK, don't answer that) and I got the nicest one of them all, I am sure. He looked through my paperwork, said how beautiful Keza was, and sent us on our merry way. I said, "is that all? Am I supposed to go somewhere else?" He said "Nope. Just go home!" Walking away from that counter I had tears streaming down my face. 2 years of waiting and hoping and work, so much work. 2 years of planning and money and stress. 2 years of anticipation and yearning and hope and disappointment. All of it, all of the prep work, all of the adoption work, came down to that moment. The moment I brought my daughter HOME. She is in the United States of America. Free and clear. She is part of me, my family, my country. Everything was so taxing and so much work and then, a stamp on our paperwork and 'BAM', it's done. It just feels surreal, like it's all one big dream. May I never, ever wake up.

We still have a long way to go. DC to Seattle and Seattle to home. I can't wait to see my boys. Every time I close my eyes I see them running up to me, I hear them calling, "Mommy! Mommy!" Tonight. 9:30 PM. I'm almost home.