Looking Back: One Year Ago Today–Our Embassy Appointment

Tuesday Oct. 19, 2010

(This is another day where I only had a few words written.  Oh c’mon, memory…serve me well!)

Today was a big day.  It was our interview day at the US Embassy.  Today would make it possible to finally move forward with the last few necessary steps to bring Blake and Lauren home.  Of course we’ve loved a chance to experience DRC, but home is the end goal!

We asked our driver to come super early.  Things here run on Congo time, which isn’t at all like overly anal American time.  Thankfully we planned like that because he was very late.  There were five families who were getting more and more nervous by the minute!  He did eventually arrive, but it was going to be close.  On our way there, someone chatted with Diana and she told us not to worry, that they would see us even if we were a little late. 

Nerves were just high that day, period.  There had been some confusion with the Embassy as to whether or not they had our children’s passports, and if everything was in order.  It should have been, as our passports had been delivered at our drop-off appointment, but we just weren’t 100% certain.  Just in case, we all formulated a plan.  That’s the kind of stuff you do when you have hours every day to fill, I guess.

Our plan? Shockaweblame.

You have to say it really fast, all mumbled together….shockaweblame.  That’s how we did it. :)

First step, shock.  What??  What do you mean that you don’t have everything?  Second step, awe.  (Okay, I confess…I can’t really remember what that step was about.  Hubby and I are discussing it right now.  Are we in awe that things were handled that way?  Or was it more of ah, like a disappointment.  If anyone from Group 2 is reading this and can help this poor mama’s memory, please do!  Anyways…)  Third step, blame.  We were told that everything was in order during drop off.  If things weren’t, then they’ve lost something, or weren’t responsible in checking everything. 

The Embassy is set up with a few doors off on the side of the room, and then chairs out in the main waiting area.  The waiting area is only maybe 8 to 9 feet wide.  One of our families got called back to one of the doors along the side, and they were in there much longer than Group 1 families had been last week, but they came out and said all was well.  Whew.  One down, four more to go. 

When it was our turn, they only called one of our children.  Hubby and I took Blake and Lauren back, though.  The consul looked very confused.  You could tell she didn’t know we were adopting two children.  We filled her in, though, and she went and retrieved the other binder.  She asked us several questions, all pretty simple and basic.  How many children do we have at home?  How did Blake and Lauren come to be available for adoption?  Just basic things about our family and this journey. 

When she got to Blake’s binder, though, she checked all his stuff and told us there was a problem.  His passport had a typo on it.  We knew that “Blake” had been spelled wrong and we had been pretty concerned about it, but Diana told us many times not to worry, that it was insignificant. 

The consul was not only concerned about the misspelling, but also that the name orders were reversed.  His middle name is a Congolese name and it was placed on the top line.  In the US, the top line is our last name.  We explained to her (remember, there was just a lot of turnover at the Embassy, that’s what caused the whole week long delay in the first place, and she was not familiar with this process) that that is just the way that the Congolese do their passports.  All of the children being adopted had passports like that.

She wasn’t convinced that it wasn’t a problem.  She said she would need to look into this, and that she was not able to approve us today.  We held our still sick little boy in our arms, knowing we needed to get back to medical care in the States ASAP, and I started crying.  She was sympathetic and kind, but insisted that she could not approve a child with “falsified documents.”  That didn’t sit so well with us.  Hubby kindly told her that we hadn’t falsified anything, and simply had a passport that was printed just like all Congolese passports are.  She quickly apologized and said that she wasn’t concerned that we were falsifying documents, but that these documents we had presented simply weren’t accurate. 

We left the tiny side room we were in, and soon realized that we weren’t the only ones facing this disappointment.  A friend of mine from the States used a different adoption agency, and happened to have her interview the same day we did ours.  I saw her in the waiting area crying, and found out that the same thing had happened with her daughter’s passport and she had been told the same thing. 

We were told to wait to see if anything could be resolved, so we sat there the rest of the afternoon.  It was terrible. 

We stepped outside a few times to call Diana, who was now back in the States.  She is amazing.  Have I said that before?  Simply amazing.  She dropped everything and began making phone calls trying to help us.  (She does not run an adoption agency.  She has a full-time high-powered job.  She facilitates these adoptions in her “free time!” )  Thankfully, by the end of the day (even after their normal closing time), we were told that the switching around of names was okay.  They now understood that that was the standard practice in DRC so that a Congolese name was on the top line.  So most of the families were relieved and told they could pick up their children’s visas next Monday. 

Us, though?  She was still concerned about Blake’s misspelling.  She told us she had to contact the State Department in Washington, D.C. and that she’d let us know. 

After more phone calls to Diana, she unfortunately told us that if we couldn’t get past this with them, we might have to proceed with Lauren and leave Blake behind in DRC while everything got straightened out.  I was sick. to. my. stomach.

It was now dark outside, we had been there so long, and Hubby and I felt defeated.  We had traveled 28 hours by plane, spent a week in country doing nothing to move our process forward because our interviews had been bumped back, missed our kids at home, had a sick baby who still hadn’t seen a trustworthy doctor, and we were being told he might not receive a visa.

We headed back to the guest house, forced ourselves to eat some dinner, filled in the rest of the group, prayed that we would just continue to trust that God would work it all out, and headed to bed.

(Since we spent the entire day at the Embassy, and it is illegal in DRC to take pictures in public, we didn’t take a single picture today.  Sorry for the long entry of text only!)

Looking Back: One Year Ago Today–A Shopping Excursion

Monday Oct. 18, 2010

(I’m pretty much writing this whole day from memory.  I had five whopping words written in my journal.) :)

We laid pretty low again today.  Another adoptive mom and I were wanting to do some shopping at a local market and James agreed to take us. 

We spent a really long time waiting for our driver to come, and James, my friend, and I hung out at the guest house just talking.  We talked a lot with James about what Congolese and American cultures were like.  It was so interesting!  We learned about dating/courting/engagement/marriage, about how Christmas is celebrated (Christmas celebrations are only about Jesus, no Santa involved), how housing is obtained, and more.

He shared that he just assumed American life was like what he had seen in the movies.  We assured him our lives were nothing like the movies!  He laughed at some of our silly customs and holidays (I mean, really…the concept of Groundhog’s Day is pretty crazy!) and we just enjoyed talking and sharing our lives with each other. 

The driver eventually arrived and James took us to a local shopping area.  I guess in my mind, I was thinking more open air market with local goods being sold.  I was hoping to find some pottery, fabrics, artwork, etc.  Instead, he took us to several small shops that sold the same kind of plastic toys and household goods you can find in some stores in America.  It really surprised me to learn, too, that these shops weren’t even owned and staffed by Congolese, but by Asians.  Most items for sale were placed behind floor to ceiling windows with every item numbered.  If you wanted to purchase something, you told the clerk that you wanted a #37 and a #76.  A few items hung from the ceiling or the walls.  It wasn’t at all what I had pictured. 

We didn’t shop for very long.  First, it wasn’t exactly what we were looking for and second, we didn’t feel super safe.  I’m sure that people had to wonder who we were and why we were there and we got lots of stares again.  Because we were just mingling in among the people, that was my first experience with a military presence.  I saw guys with guns today.  They were just wandering around in the streets like everyone else.  I have to admit, it sent a few shivers down my back. 

We did stop in one Congolese clothing shop.  I say “shop” because that’s what it was, but this shop was nothing like any store in America.  It was maybe the size of a bathroom, master closet, or laundry room here.  You could fit no more than five or six people in there and there were probably one dozen outfits for sale.  That’s it.  It was dark – the only light came from the outdoors.  It was pretty cool to see authentic Congolese clothing and my friend bought a traditional dress.  I didn’t buy one because I’m a really indecisive spender (like I’ve determined that Groupon and Living Social are not for me.  By the time I’ve done the research and  finally decided that I want something, it’s no longer available!)  I just couldn’t think of a time or place where I’d wear it.  I wish I wouldn’t have been so stinking practical and would have just bought it, both so that I could have supported their local economy and to have it to show my children.  They really were beautiful, and so different from anything at home. 

Once we returned to the guest house, Hubby and I had some problem solving to do.  Blake was not staying on his bed in the night.  He’d roll off and we’d hear him fall on the ceramic tile.  We’d get up out of bed, make sure he was okay, put him back in the middle of his mattress, and repeat this process probably at least a dozen times every night.  Needless to say, it was getting old.  We tried one night with him sleeping in our double bed with us, but one night was more than enough to know that wouldn’t work.  I have never seen a kid so antsy.  I literally stayed awake counting the seconds between each kick or flop.  I’d get to about 12 and he’d do it again.  Every 12 seconds on average.  All night long.  No one slept that night.

We started looking for something we could use as a makeshift crib.  David and Barb had an old suitcase they had brought.  It wasn’t even theirs; it was their niece’s (if memory serves me right?) and they had “borrowed” it after their giant duffel bag was destroyed during their cross country flight in the States.  They didn’t want to take it back home and gave us permission to cut the inside pockets and straps out and let him sleep inside the suitcase (with the lid open, obviously!) 

Ah, peaceful sleep at last!  He did GREAT in there and I think he felt comfort having a more confined space.  Isn’t he cute!?!  

Looking Back: One Year Ago Today–A Slow Day

Sunday Oct. 17, 2010

The antimalarial that our doctor prescribed for us was just a once weekly pill.  We take them on Saturday nights.  I woke up this morning feeling really lousy and nauseous from my antimalarial.  It reminded me of the morning sickness I felt with my pregnancies.  Yuck.

Blake was still sick, so he and I stayed home while Hubby and Lauren went to Congolese church. I really wish I could have gone, but it’s best that I didn’t. He said it was very hot and very loud and very long, but also a really cool experience.  Here’s some pics he took:

This was a just a young kid playing the drums.

This guy’s shirt says “Stop rocking fake s**t.”  That’s the danger of wearing shirts that aren’t in your language.

David actually got to preach!  (With James’ translation help, of course.)

We spent the rest of the day hanging around the guest house, playing games with our friends, and enjoying getting to know Blake and Lauren better.  They’re pretty cool kids.

Looking Back: One Year Ago–Together Again

Saturday Oct. 16, 2010

After my rough night last night, I was very grateful for a good night’s sleep.  Barb called around a little and one of the local missionaries, Tim, agreed to help us out and came to pick up me and David. We arrived at the hospital and you could see that Hubby was relieved to see us.

We started to make the transition again for me to stay the day and Hubby to head back to the guest house.  I got tears in my eyes when I realized that David wasn’t just making sure I got to the hospital safely, but that he planned to stay with me for the day. I had no idea.  I tell you what, these people we are with are just amazing.

Tim was a wonderful advocate, explaining the system to us and being proactive. Blake seemed a little bit better and we decided we were going to push to be discharged. Well, there is no discharging in Congo. If you want to leave, you leave. But still. We needed to be able to treat Blake at home. Fortunately, when we saw a doctor (not the same one Diana and I met with the previous night), he recommended going home on his own. I guess the doctor last night really did just see us as a chance to make some money. 

Just before noon, Hubby (he hadn’t left yet…there had been too much going on that morning), David, and I packed up, paid our $465 bill, and headed out to look for a cab. Praise God, we were going back to the guest house, our home away from home!  But as we walked down the street, 3 white folks with a black baby, we got lots of stares. And we noticed zero cabs. We went out on the road and stood for a moment but became increasingly nervous. Cabs aren’t marked as cabs. How were we to know what was a cab and what was a person trying to get us into their car to drive us to who knows where and take everything we have and leave us for dead? So, we decided to walk back to the hospital and call Tim. He was unavailable then but said he could come get us in 30 minutes if we could wait. Yes, yes! We could wait. 

It was wonderful to arrive back at at the guest house and just settle in to life here again with the four of us. Blake was still sick, and he still fought his medicine, but he was eating and his fever was being managed with Tylenol. Hopefully his amoxicillin would work. I did some laundry in the tub and we gave the babies a bath.  It was great to go about normal routines again. Saturday evening was pizza night – and we each got half of a pizza to ourselves!!! After being used to being rationed, it was heavenly. We all crashed pretty early.  It had been a long couple of days.

Looking Back: One Year Ago–Another Very Tough Day

Friday Oct. 15, 2010

In the morning, Diana and I went to the hospital to relieve Hubby. Evidently during the night, Blake’s fever spiked very high again. Hubby’s night was awful.  In his own words, it was one of the worst of his life.  He was feeling very emotional and helpless. Blake was just so very sick and we still didn’t know why, or if he’d be okay.  I got settled in at the hospital and Hubby and Diana stayed until we got an x-ray for Blake but then they headed back to the guest house.  Hubby needed to rest a little and would take care of Lauren during the day. Thankfully, James (our translator) stayed with me for most of the day, but we didn’t talk much and it was still a very lonely feeling. It was very intense, the feelings we had for Blake. Here we just met him, but we loved him.  We felt very worried and protective of him. It was scary watching him so lifeless and not feeling confident in the care he was getting.

This is the only picture we took of Blake in the hospital.  His IV was in his left hand.  He sucks his left thumb and was beside himself that he couldn’t get to it.  Poor baby!

The hospital room itself felt almost like solitary confinement. It was a small room and very tall. There were windows at the very top that were open to the outside, but there was no way to see out of them. You could hear the street noise, but rarely did you see another person. The entire day I was there, I saw the nurses once – they came to give Blake his medicine around 2:00. The room was incredibly bare.  Stark white walls.  One table.  Two old style hospital beds.  One plain chair.  Thankfully, one air conditioning unit.  It either blew full force, or not at all.  We’d go back and forth between the two.

I left a couple of times to use the bathroom, always making sure that James wouldn’t go anywhere.  The bathroom was just around the corner from Blake’s room.  All day long a gentleman sat outside in the hallway.  He was friendly and we’d nod and smile each time I walked by. 

Around 5:30, James took a phone call and said that “Jim” said they were on their way and that he could go. The thing is, I don’t know a “Jim.”  Perhaps I misunderstood and he really said a different name?  That’s what I’d like to believe.  James really seems like a good guy.  He left right after that call.

For several hours I sat in a hospital room with my very sick baby.  In the Congo.  In the evening.  All by myself.  Waiting for someone to come. 

Needless to say, it was pretty stressful.

I tried to pray, to journal, to comfort and encourage Blake (although he was so lethargic, he just slept most of the time).  I could hear people fighting outside on the street.  I could hear car doors.  Each car door I heard I wondered if that was Hubby.  As time went on, I began to worry that something had happened to him.  Meanwhile, I watched the mosquitos beginning to swarm.  The window in our room had no screens.  It seemed ironic to me that he was in the hospital with “a little bit” of malaria (although the hospital’s malaria test turned up negative, so who knows) and we were sharing our room with dozens of mosquitos.  I just kept thinking that  if he didn’t have malaria when he came in, he’ll probably have it when he leaves.

Well, it was 8:45 and pitch dark before anyone showed up. I was beyond relieved to see Hubby walk in that room!!! Diana was with him. We hadn’t seen a doctor that day, so being that she spoke French, she asked for more information.  She and I were taken upstairs to an office to meet with a doctor while Hubby stayed with Blake.  The doctor pulled out Blake’s x-ray and pointed out some problem areas in his lungs.  He told us that Blake was very sick and probably couldn’t go home for many days. 

The problem was that we didn’t know if we could trust him.  Was that true, or did he just see it as an opportunity to make money?  It could have been pneumonia and been bad like he was telling us.  It could have been malaria.  It could have been a viral infection.  It could have been something else altogether.  We just didn’t know.  Back down in Blake’s room Diana was explaining to us that if it was a viral infection, there’s really nothing we can do and that we should all be prepared to catch it and be sick. So being the planner that I am, I asked her what we do if we all get sick. She said that she didn’t want any adults coming to the hospital. We needed to tough it out. She told me about the time she was here and caught pneumonia and had blood running out her nose, but she just kept on. And about the time the travel agent was here and got malaria and thought she was going to die she was so sick.

Um, yikes.  Bless her heart, Diana is one of the most amazing people I know, and I think she was trying to encourage me to stay strong, but after one of the most stressful days of my life, and already worrying enough about my son…well, I just couldn’t go there.

Our plan was to have Hubby spend the night with Blake again.  We got him all settled in and Diana and I headed back to the guest house in a taxi she had waiting.  This wasn’t a yellow cab, though, like in the States.  Taxis are unmarked in Congo, and are just someone who offers to drive people around for a fee.  It’s very hard to know if you can trust a taxi driver, and she was pleasantly surprised that he had waited for her.  We asked for his cell phone number in case we would need his help again and he wrote it on a scrap piece of paper for us.  Not super official.

When we got back, I pretty much broke down in David and Barb’s room. They were very supportive and encouraging. They had saved me some dinner, which I couldn’t eat much of, but I thought that was nice of them.  Through my choked-back tears I talked the guest house manager into keeping her office open just a little later than normal so that I could use the satellite phone to call home to my mom. No matter how old you get, sometimes you just need your mom.  I was nervous to call her because I was so emotional and I didn’t want her to be upset or to worry, but it was very comforting to talk with her. She just encouraged me to hang in there, that it would all be okay, and that there were lots of people praying for us there.

I got back to David and Barb’s room and they had talked. They were formulating a plan for the morning.  Barb had the really wise idea to call one of the missionaries we knew to go with us to the hospital to be an advocate. James is great, but he only translates. We just didn’t understand Congo’s medical system and needed more help. Plus, David and Barb asked if they could keep Lauren for the night and they offered me Ambien to help me sleep. I thought about it and accepted on all counts. I got Lauren settled for the night with them (she had been sleeping through the night just fine, so it shouldn’t be a big burden for them), took my Ambien, said my prayers, and slept like a baby.

Looking Back: One Year Ago Today–A Very Tough Day

Thursday Oct. 14, 2010

Today was a tough day.  Blake was acting really lethargic. We had some concerns about his health from the moment we first saw him, and had multiple conversations where we’d look at each other and say, “Do you think he’s okay?” But today, not only was he lethargic, but he spiked a fever, too. Pastor Peter called a doctor friend he knew whose office was just next door and he came to see Blake. He suggested we take him to a lab for a malaria test. Hubby and David (our escort, who is a pastor here in the States) went to the lab. Hubby was so surprised when they pulled up to a hole in the wall kind of a building, and even more surprised when they were taken to a room that more closely resembled a dark closet. Hubby was very nervous, and could see in David’s eyes that he was nervous, too.  I think he would have gotten up and just left except that thankfully, they pulled out a clean, new, sterile needle from a sealed wrapper. It hit Hubby pretty hard when they asked him if he wanted the malaria test and he said yes, without even asking how much it cost.  How many parents were standing just outside that building with sick children, but were unable to afford the test?  We take so much for granted! 

Blake’s test came back positive for malaria.  Actually, we were told he had a little bit of malaria, which sounded a lot like being a little bit pregnant to me.  Either you have it or you don’t.  Anyways, the medical system works completely different in Congo and you don’t need prescriptions to get medicine.  You simply go to the pharmacy and buy what you need.  The same doctor that visited us this morning suggested we get Blake started on an antibiotic, antimalarial, and vitamin. So we went to the pharmacy and got those.

We learned quickly that Blake HATES medicine. I’ve never seen a kid like this before. Screaming, kicking, gurgling, choking, etc. And unfortunately, he needed a lot of it.  We finally got it all in his little system and he vomited.  We had been pretty stressed all day, just worried about him, and I think that about put us over the edge.  We didn’t know what to do! 

Thankfully, there were some Canadian nurses on a mission trip staying at our guest house and they told us to redose and showed us some tips to help him take it. But as the night went on, Blake only got worse.  He threw up his 6:30 bottle too and refused any Pedialyte or formula. The nurses said he sounded like he had fluid on his lungs. Another little boy in our group just got home from the hospital with pneumonia. We were very scared and nervous, wondering if perhaps Blake had it, too.  After much discussion with the nurses, and lots of prayer, Hubby, David, and Diana took him to the hospital and because it was already very late, Hubby planned to spend the night there with Blake. I was feeling very anxious about the whole situation, but I was able to talk with my friend whose son just came home and I asked about what the hospital was like. She set my mind at ease and said that it’s relatively clean and she felt safe, just not to leave him alone…ever.

Lauren and I went to bed, and I just laid there praying for our sweet son.  Having a child in the hospital would be hard enough if we were in the States where we understood the healthcare system, and trusted that he was getting good care.  Knowing my husband and son were in a hospital where they couldn’t communicate with any doctors, and not knowing at all what was wrong with him and if he’d be okay was just. plain. hard.

Looking Back: One Year Ago Today–Heading Out and About

Wednesday Oct. 13, 2010

(Remember…our friends’ names have been changed!)

I was completely surprised at how well Blake and Lauren slept! We were pooped last night and really needed a good night’s sleep. Thank you, Lord! We fed them at 9:30 p.m.and they went right to sleep. Our room only had one double bed, so we had them sleep on an extra twin mattress on the floor (with a mosquito net, of course).

It was 5:15 before we heard anything from them. Lauren was awake and very restless. We’d never heard her cry, and knew that sometimes children who had been orphaned don’t cry (when a baby’s cries go unanswered for so long, they just quit crying…it’s rather sad) so we didn’t know if she was hungry or not. We decided just to go ahead and feed her. Blake was up soon, too, once we started moving around the room. It was so wonderful to wake up and see their sweet, beautiful faces!

After breakfast, our task for the day was to head to the US Embassy. While there were 9 families total, we were divided into two groups…Group 1 and Group 2. (Not the most creative names, but hey, it worked.) Group 1 had their interviews at the Embassy. It’s a long story, but originally, those were Group 2’s interviews. Due to some staff turnover at the Embassy, there was a lot of confusion during the time that Group 1’s original interview dates occurred, and due to issues beyond Group 1’s control, they weren’t able to complete them as planned. The Embassy moved the interviews around, switching Group 1’s interviews to our original date, and moving Group 2’s back one week. But because the Embassy waited to do that until just a couple of days before, almost all of us just kept our same flights. We still held out some hope that maybe if we were there in person, they’d go ahead and see us. If not, that meant that our entire first week in country would not be of any benefit to helping bring our kiddos home. We knew that the process to finish our paperwork would take anywhere between 2 and 6 weeks, so one whole extra week with nothing moving forward was not ideal.

We learned quickly that getting places in Kinshasa is difficult. And hot! We all “crammed” in a van. I put quotes because when you see the Congolese taxi vans, that’s crowded! Like rip the seats out, put benches in, cram probably 30+ people on the benches with several more people hanging out the doors crowded.

The US Embassy was smaller than I had pictured. We went and waited while Group 1 had interviews. It was tough for those of us in Group 2 because we could see that it only takes 6 minutes or so to do each interview, but it didn’t work for them to just “fit us in” and we knew we’d have to wait a week for our rescheduled interviews. While we were there we tried to register online that we were in country like they want all Americans visiting DRC to do, but that was taking forever, so we were really more just along for the ride.

Oh, so here’s a story…

While we waited in the Embassy, Lauren pooped for the first time since we met her. I went to the bathroom to go change her. Our escort, Barb, asked if I needed help, but I said no, I’d be fine. Well, I got her on the diaper deck and started to change her and ohmygoodness, she exploded! Poop shot out her bottom and flew about five feet across the room! I have never seen poop like that before in my life, and I’ve seen poop! I mean, Lauren is my fifth child! I got the giggles and called for Barb after all. She opened the door, stepped in it, and almost fell! Poor Barb will probably have remnants of that in her shoe for a looong time! At home, we rank the disgustingness of our kiddos’ poops by how many wipes it took to clean. Usually the really bad ones are four or five wipers. This one? No joke, probably at least a 20 wiper! Not the surprise I was hoping for today, but at least we got some good laughs.

After the Embassy, our group walked just a block or so away to a market that Diana (our American attorney) said was for westerners, but we were one of very few westerners. The people there were mostly Congolese. We got lots of stares. I have to admit, it was eye-opening to truly feel what it’s like to be a minority.

After the market, the group split up and Hubby went to a different market, one for locals, to buy rice and beans for an orphanage. Some of our group went there a couple of days ago (Group 1 arrived in Congo a few days before those of us in Group 2 did, so they had already experienced some of Kinshasa) and didn’t have the best experience. They discovered that if you make eye contact and converse with people, a large crowd ends up gathering around you. I guess it got a little mob-ish and frightening until Pastor Peter got back to the van and got them out of there. We all agreed not to send our entire group back to that particular market, just to avoid drawing attention to ourselves again. But because it’s much more affordable to buy the supplies we needed to take to the orphanage there, a couple of guys went, Hubby included. I went back to the guest house with Blake and Lauren. Go figure, that afternoon there was a huge rainstorm and Hubby was very delayed. When it rains, the city kind of shuts down. Roads flood very easily, and travel becomes even more difficult. It was kind of nerve-wracking being apart and I was so glad to see him arrive “home” that night!

Looking Back: One Year Ago Today–The Moment We’d Been Waiting For

Tuesday Oct. 12, 2011

After switching planes in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia, we were all settled on our new flight and headed on to Brazzaville, Republic of Congo.  It is their capital city and is directly across the Congo River from Kinshasa…our final destination.  Brazzaville looked more like what I was expecting Africa to look like.  As we sat on the plane there for about an hour, watching some passengers get off, and some new ones board, my tummy was going crazy.  I was getting more nervous by the minute. The flight attendants were upset with us because we were moving seats now that the plane was not as full so that we could be together as a group.  Well, that, and for some reason they didn’t want us even standing up during the 1 hr. stop. You try sitting there with your stomach in a knot not doing anything for an hour! 

But soon, we were on our way.  It was less than a 10 minute (14 mile) flight over the Congo River to Kinshasa. It seemed like a waste of jet fuel to just go that far. But that’s what happened, and soon, we were on DRC soil.  It truly felt like a miracle that we were there.  The months of waiting and wondering what this would be like!  And here we were!!! 

The plane had to do what seemed like a 17 point turn around on the runway – there was only one strip for the whole airport. So you land on the runway, come to a stop, and then turn around and go right back down it to get to the terminal.  They have these trams that meet you at the plane to take you to the building, and we hopped on that and rode to immigration. This was the portion of the trip that I was most fearful of.  We had heard about what a horrible experience the Kinshasa airport is, and while it is completely unlike anything here in America, I was surprised – the first portion of it was air conditioned, I didn’t see men armed with machine guns, and most of the people were friendly. There was some concern with our yellow fever cards because the month and day dates were reversed, but we were able to show them how that’s just a cultural thing.  While we write August 11, 2010 as 8/11/10, they’d write it as 11/8/10.  While it freaked us out momentarily that they weren’t letting us pass through and giving us all sorts of looks and telling us there were problems, they did let us through.

We soon met Bob*, the guy that works with DGM (Congo’s immigration) – and we were so happy to see someone sent by Pastor Peter! (I’m calling him Pastor Peter because he is an amazing man…truly a rock to all of us!  In the Bible, Jesus called Peter the rock that He’d build the church upon.)  It was crazy to me that I was the one in the group with the best French, and I struggled to put together any French I could (it had been like 14 years since I had studied French!) so I could communicate with Bob.  Thankfully, I had a pocket dictionary where we could look up what we wanted to say and point. 

It took awhile for our bags – it was a little stressful because of the language barrier and the fact that it was very hot (the air conditioned portion of the building didn’t last long!) Finally, we got our bags, but people kept carrying them off after our American attorney, Diana (I would call her Wonder Woman because she is that amazing, but that would feel a little strange to read an ongoing story about Wonder Woman.  I googled Wonder Woman’s real name, and apparently it’s Diana.  Who knew!?!  Anyways…I digress…)  told us not to let them leave with your bags! She had told us just to sit on them if necessary!  It was quite a scramble. But again, we made it through just fine.  Pastor Peter and Diana pulled up in a van outside the airport to pick us up – it was wonderful to see them!! We left for our guest house. At this point, I was so grateful that we made it through the part of the trip I was most nervous about, and I was just filled with excitement.  Well, excitement and sweat.  Yes, the sweat.  Did I mention it was hot?  But who cares!?!  We were here!!!  We really were here!!! 

It was about an hour journey to the guest house, and the streets of Kinshasa were fascinating to watch.  Some things stood out to me right away.  First, I was amazed by all the dirt. Roads weren’t necessarily paved, and there really wasn’t any grass.  Just dirt on the roads, dirt along the side of the roads, dirt everywhere.  The streets were very narrow. However, there were very wide “shoulders” with tons of people selling things, just hanging out, etc. There were people everywhere.  The buildings were very old and run down. We did come to an area of Kinshasa that felt much more urban, but there were still people everywhere.

The traffic was downright crazy. The first one there wins. It seemed crazy to me that in a city of upwards of 10 million people, there were no stop lights!   Some intersections had multiple police officers trying to direct traffic, but there were cars everywhere.  It was like a giant game of chicken.

But soon, we arrived at the guest house!!  There were several families there already, one of whom lives in our hometown and I had met a few weeks before.  It was great to see them all, and see them with their children!  We were told Blake and Lauren would be there in about an hour. Diana showed us our room – it was air conditioned and had a private bathroom! Wow! We sure weren’t expecting that!  It was very humble, but nice.  The only problem we saw was that there were ants everywhere. They had left water in pitchers for us. We were grateful as we were very thirsty, but we noticed that one pitcher was left open and ants were swimming in it! (We found out later, they do this on purpose to attract the ants to just one container.)

We had only been there a few minutes and had started to unpack when someone called our name and said, “Your babies are here!” EEK!!!! Ohmygoodness, the moment…the one we’d been waiting for!!!  We were about to meet Blake and Lauren!!!  I started shaking, grabbed the cameras and went to the common area. Everyone had their children but us. We missed their “gotchas!”  I was bummed that we had missed that, but I began frantically looking around the crowd for Blake and Lauren. They were on Mama Grace’s lap and she was sitting along the wall. Totally overwhelming. Amazing!!! I started crying. There aren’t words to describe what it was like to see the babies!  No more needing to kiss their picture on our refrigerator.  They were here and I could be with them!!  I was so grateful to Mama Grace (their foster mother).  I just cried, staring at my babies, and saying over and over again through my tears, “Merci beaucoup!”

So, my first impressions?  Blake looked limp – his head was just hanging backwards. Both of them were very tiny…much smaller than I was anticipating. But oh man, were they beautiful!!  She handed them to us.  It was so amazing to hold them after all this time!!! Lauren was really content and Blake fell asleep on my shoulder after just a couple of minutes. It felt surreal.  After months of loving them from afar, we were finally together. 

Together forever. 

We took pictures, ate dinner, hung out in our escorts’ room, Skyped with the kids and my mom (who was also in tears, getting to see her new grandson and granddaughter!), had a little meeting with the whole group (there were nine families altogether, plus Diane, and two escorts), then went to bed. Oh, what a day!!  Thank you, God, for the blessings!!

*For the sake of security, and because I don’t have permission from these people to put their names out on the internet, I have changed all names.

Looking Back: One Year Ago Today–Heading Out

(If you’re wondering what this is all about, I explain here.)

Monday, October 11, 2010

We were packed, ready, and had a whopping three or so hours of sleep under our belt.  My brother Matt arrived very early to take us to the airport! We loaded everything into his car and headed out!  I was co-pilot and unfortunately missed the parking garage at the airport, so we got to circle around the airport again to find where we needed to go.  We were getting nervous about time. We had plenty, though.  Honestly, I think we were just nervous about the day, period.  Thankfully, check-in went fine. Our checked bags were primarily filled with formula and were over a little on the weight limit, but they allowed us to have 52 pounds per bag. Matt had an extra bag with him with a few more cans of formula, so we asked if we could throw one more can in and the guy let us. : ) Saying goodbye to Matt was hard, and I had more tears as we hugged him and left to head through security.

I was very nervous at the airport! This really was happening!  Our flight was delayed and we were afraid we’d miss our connecting flight in DC. We sat there, checking our watch every two minutes or so.  Honestly, there was a part of me that just wanted to go on home and forget it. Of course, the larger part of me knew we were in exactly the right spot.

Once we were on the plane, though, it felt like God was carrying us. I listened to a mix CD a friend had made on my iPod, and it was very comforting. I definitely felt peace about everything.  Our first flight wasn’t too long and we landed in DC and found out that our next flight was only a few gates down. What are the odds? Thankfully, even though our first flight was late, we weren’t at risk of missing the one to Africa.  We headed to check in for our next flight, and met one of the moms we were traveling with in the bathroom in DC. I had talked with her a couple of times by phone, and had a good idea that might be her.  (Her giant carry on bags and her sweet southern accent gave her away!)  It was so comforting to see her and we exchanged a big hug!

Ethiopian Air wanted to check Hubby’s carry-on because it was over their 15 pound limit. Yikes!  We had carefully packed everything so that even if we never saw our checked bags again, we would be okay for the trip.  Our carry-ons had all of our clothing, snacks, diapers, and some formula.  Mine was over, too, but only by about 10 pounds.  His was over by about 30 pounds.  We “fought” for awhile to get to keep it with us but still pay the penalty. Thankfully, they agreed to let us do that.  Best $60 we could have spent, just for the peace of mind!  We settled in and met the other families traveling with us. They were such a nice group of people, and we were grateful to be able to make this journey with them!

We had a good but very long flight to Ethiopia. They played this Ethiopian music constantly – I liked it at first, but after hours of it, it got a little old. We watched some not so great movies. I enjoyed some quiet time (well, kid-free time anyways…my last for quite a while!) reading and listening to music.  It was difficult to sleep on the plane, so I only slept in a couple of thirty minute segments or so.  We spent one hour in Rome to refuel the plane, but we weren’t allowed off the plane.  It would have been cool to see Rome, but I guess that will have to happen at another time.  From Rome, we flew into Ethiopia.  I was surprised; it looked very urban.

Our flights lasted over 28 hours, so stay tuned for our arrival in DRC!  That came on 10/12/10!

Looking Back: One Year Ago Today–Preparing to Leave

I’ve wanted to blog about our journey to Congo and back for some time now.  Sadly, it’s a whole year later. 

I’m finding myself very nostalgic as I think back to this time last year.  I figured if I ever am going to post about our trip, it would be fun just to relive it here and now just as it happened a year ago.

Perhaps this will just be for me; perhaps some of you will enjoy reading along.  Regardless, even if it’s just for me, I’m looking forward to reliving the journey, and I hope and pray that Blake and Lauren will find it a blessing to know what our journey to them was like. 

As a disclaimer, I did journal throughout the journey, though I’m finding that my “journal” is really more of just a bulleted list of happenings and thoughts of the day.  In order to post some coherent thoughts, I will be rewriting it as I go.  I hope this extra work required can actually happen and doesn’t stop me from posting anything at all…because you know how I am with my blogging these days.  (I’m just sayin’!)

Hmm…maybe I better hope someone reads along after all.  You all can hold me accountable!

Well, without further ado, one year ago today…

Sunday, October 10, 2010

Tonight we said goodbye to the kiddos. It was by far one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. We were packed and ready and spent some time here just hanging out the five of us. We read books, wrestled, prayed together, and enjoyed lots of snuggling.  After dinner, we took them over to the neighbors (where they were spending the first week of who knows how many) to get all settled in. We hung out over there for a little while and took some pictures of our family together.

In the back of my mind, I couldn’t help but wonder if these were my last moments with my kiddos. This is a big journey we’re going on, and there were no guarantees! I hated thinking like that, but just couldn’t help it. We tucked them in for bed, and left in tears. It was so very hard to come back home and sleep in our own bed. If we weren’t going to be able to be with Josh, Sarah, and Megan, I felt like we should just be on our way already. We didn’t sleep much. We were hoping to get to bed early. Ha! : ) There was still lots of last minute packing, organizing, etc.  I think it was sometime after midnight when we finally crashed.  Tomorrow would be the start of a life-changing journey.

He might be getting older, but…

I had a moment today that I almost completely forgot about (already!) and it's so very sweet, that I just can't let that happen. I decided to blog about it to keep it as a record of a bright spot. I apologize to all of you who are looking for more newsy updates, but this is what today brings.

I peeked in on my oldest during his lunch time at our school (we still homeschool, but are part of a co-op/school for homeschoolers). I happened to catch him just as they were finishing and cleaning up. I watched him bend over, pick up some trash from the floor, pause to look at it, and then fold it and gently place it in his pocket.

Why, you may wonder, is that such a bright spot that it deserves one of a handful of posts for the year?

Well, because the "trash" that he folded and put in his pocket was the napkin I sent with him in his lunch with a note from me telling him that I loved him and hoped he had a great day.

Such a sweet, sweet boy. I love him like crazy!

Time flies when you're having fun

We've been home now for 7 1/2 months! I'm thinking it's time for a new headline on my blog. "We're home" somehow feels a little old and stale.

I'm guessing it's not just me. :)

So yes, we're home. And yes, we're in love. Life is wonderful yet crazy, busy yet full of regular routines, and at times challenging yet blissful. I really can't imagine my life without these five children. We are so incredibly blessed.

Since we're home safe and sound, let me introduce you to my two "new" sweeties!

First, Blake-man. He is a cutie pie!!! I like to say about him that he is very chill...until. Until he loses it, and then watch out! He can get MAD! But he also has a smile that could totally light up not only a room, or a neighborhood, or a city, but probably an entire continent. It's that cute and contagious! Blake loves all things drum related and he likes to dance. He loves playing with his brother and sisters, and is a total cuddlebug. He's working so hard at walking, but still gets around by crawling. Sometimes he likes to "chase his tail" and crawl around in a circle. It's pretty cute.

He had a rough start, as when we met him, he was only 12 1/2 pounds and could hardly hold his head up. He was quite ill at the time. We spent two nights in an African hospital (not exactly fun), and worried about his health for most of the 3 1/2 weeks we were gone. Once he got home, he tested positive for two strains of malaria, and soon caught the chicken pox from his sister. I'd say the first few months home with him were difficult, as he just battled so many viruses and just didn't feel well. This spring he seemed to turn a corner, and we commented that we loved getting to know the real Blake. The Blake that didn't feel like poop all the time.

And our Lauren girl. Ahh, Lauren. She's our little wild woman. But man, what a cutie! When we met her, we called her "chill." She just seemed so easy going. Once we got home, a friend from church met her and said to us, "Oooh, she's sassy." We said to her, "Nope. Not really. She's incredibly laid back." Well, silly us. She started crawling on Christmas night and it was like her whole personality changed. She suddenly realized there was a whole world out there that she could explore, and nothing was going to get in her way! While she had been sick before we got to her, she has been healthy as a horse since we've known her, with the exception of the chicken pox shortly after we arrived home. She's steadily making progress in all areas of development, and is not just walking, but running all through the house.


She's certainly my first child that has demanded so much attention. If I don't watch her for two minutes, she manages to pull all of the books off the shelf, play with the plug on the computer, and stick her arm down the toilet. Whew. Some days she wears me out, but my prayer with her is, "God, please don't let me squelch her spirit. I know you've made a fearless and strong-willed little girl for a reason." While she won't sit still for two seconds, Lauren is a loving little girl who loves to laugh, push doll babies around in a stroller, play peek a boo, and experience new things and places. She adds a lot of excitement to our family and is such a blessing!


So after 7 1/2 months, I've finally introduced you. Maybe in another six months, I'll share some about our journey there, life as a family of seven, and the burden my heart feels for the children left behind.

I have so much I want to say, it's just finding the time to say it that is the challenge. I really want to write more, though. I find it calming, and I love having a record of God's wonderful blessings in my life. Like these precious five: