Ethiopia Day #9

Well, day nine of the trip finally arrived... and no amount of preparation could have prepared us for the trip that lay ahead! The storm that arrived by late afternoon should have given us some indication!

We packed Tuesday morning (with a little help from our daughter who loves taking things out of the boxes where they belong!) and managed to somehow pack all of our new (breakable) souvenirs in carry on luggage and between socks and t-shirts in our checked baggage. I think Fernando said "why did we buy so many ceramic pots?" about fifty times!

We checked out of our rooms at four p.m. but were not picked up for the airport until close to seven. The guest house presented us with a coffee ceremony (roasting coffee beans indoors! Insane!) and one last meal (pizza again) before we left for good. Our flight was to leave after 11 p.m. that night... and I was already feeling tired before dinner. Not a good sign!

We made it to the airport easily enough, and through the first security checkpoint. I felt under a magnifying glass with Mari, as though the crowds of Ethiopians were judging me, or thinking negatively of our family choice. But everyone I actually spoke to was nothing but kind - encouraging - even thankful.

An hour and half later, we were still in the ticket line. My arms were about to break and I finally wrapped Mari in a scarf as a make-shift sling. As soon as I did, her intestines revolted. Feeling the activity, I headed for the nearest bathroom to change her. Well, I will spare you all the details but suffice it to say she had never had a "leave the diaper" blowout before now, and this time, she managed to soil every piece of clothing she was wearing (socks included). Now remember that she hates to have her diaper changed (read: screaming and kicking). Now imagine a cold echo-y bathroom with no door (the entire ticketing terminal can hear us) and hard plastic changing table. Now imagine the poop smearing all over the table while she screams and writhes. In. It. I actually used her pants to try to sop up the mess. (Yes, I threw them away).

Laughing yet? NOW imagine an Ethiopian guard coming in at the sound of Mari in distress. She smiled knowingly at me, and proceeded to help me pin down my child while I finished the insane cleanup job. It was equal parts humiliation, hilarity and foreshadowing of the 30 hours to come.

We went through five outfits, at least two dozen diapers, an entire 100-pack of wipes, and visited every bathroom in each airport and plane we stepped foot in.

Violet slept well on the first and third flights, but we couldn't sleep with a baby in our arms. So sleep we didn't. The second flight was the true winner - nine and a half hours of an awake 11 month old. We sat next to a couple with a two year old and the girls interacted some. We were paid a huge compliment when the couple asked where our son was - they thought we were just on vacation with our daughter. They couldn't believe we had just met and raved about how "connected" we were as a family. Maybe it was the sleep deprivation - but those were the most beautiful words I had ever heard.

Amsterdam was as wonderful as we remembered it - we grabbed a quick meal (ironically, pizza) and Fernando let me try to rest in the "Baby Care Lounge" - an amazing quiet spot in the airport, full of low lights and curtain wrapped pods for families traveling with small babies. Detroit was standard - but we flew through customs and immigration at record speed. And in a very anticlimactic moment, Violet immigrated successfully to the US! We barely made our next connection - the last flight - a 4 hour leg to Phoenix.

In case you haven't heard enough whining yet, I began feeling sick before the first take off and by the last touch down I was beyond miserable. Every take off and landing pressurization propels me into further misery and what felt like the sinus infection from hades. (My ears ended up taking over a week and a half to actually "pop".) That last four hours was ridiculously painful and the exhaustion had set in deeply in both of us - we couldn't stay awake and our heads bobbed and snapped in and our of consciousness with every movement of the plane.

I took NO photos on the trip back... and that's a good indication of exactly how much fun I was having. Thankfully though, friends in Phoenix were waiting patiently with cameras in hand!

We landed late (sorry everyone!) and went to the bathroom to attempt to look fresh. The reality was that everything smelled like poop and I could barely walk in a straight line. (Just for fun, Violet had one last blowout in the Phoenix airport. By then all I could do was laugh. And change her outfit. Again.)

All the pain and exhaustion was forgotten as we walked down the exit ramp and into the greeting area where our friends and families had gathered with flowers, balloons and big signs.

And in front of them all stood our son Daniel with a big bouquet of flowers. He ran towards us yelling, "Baby Violet! It's my sister!" and beelined for Mari.

The next few minutes were a blur of tears, smiles, hugs and familiar faces that have never looked so beautiful. (Check out the "Arrival" video that Fernando created! It captures the emotion so well.)

We got our bags and headed home... with TWO kids in TWO car seats. Daniel comforted his sister all the way to Fernando's parents house where we stopped for a quick meal before heading to our home. Violet crawled our house with glee, and Daniel was two paces ahead of her, introducing her to the cats and each piece of furniture. Once we got them to bed, we crashed. And I am not kidding... I will NEVER forget what it felt like to lay in my pillow. That heavenly sinking in feeling. It was glorious.

And just like that... this side of the adventure came to a close and the next chapter began.

Here we go!