Congo Adventures Day 3 Part 1--Addy's Almost in OUR Arms!!

Gotcha Day

Forever Day

Family Day

In the adoption world, there is so much discussion about what to call this day. But to us, the title doesn’t really matter. What matters is the memory of this day and the incredible joy it brought to our family. After 20 months of the adoption process and eight months of staring at her pictures, Addy Rose was FINALLY going to be placed in OUR arms!!

This is a day we will NEVER forget....

Tuesday, October 23:
 
We had been told we would be picked up at 10:00 a.m., and we planned to meet A downstairs for breakfast at 8:30. But there was absolutely no way we were sleeping past 6:00. We were far too anxious and excited for the day to begin!

As I got ready to shower, I realized I had forgotten my shampoo and conditioner. Throughout the week, I would discover that I was missing a few other essentials as well. So much for packing a month ahead of time with three curious kiddos at home! (When we returned home, I eventually found several of my carefully packed items hidden under our bed.)

With no other option, I jumped into the shower and reached for the hotel shampoo, only to discover it was little more than water with a tiny bit of soap. No lather, no cleaning, no yummy smell — just water running through my hair! And the conditioner? I might as well have dumped a little yogurt on my head and called it good.

After the shower, I spent a good ten minutes trying to comb through a head full of knots. I kept telling myself, “At least I can blow-dry it and make the knots and grease look okay.”

I climbed out of the cold shower, grabbed my converter, plugged in the blow dryer, and...

Ahhhh!

Ten seconds later...

POP!

Yep. My blow dryer blew up.

For those of you who know me well, you know I have very particular, picky hair. It’s half naturally curly and half straight. Once it’s blow-dried, it tends to be very dry, but without a proper wash and styling, it can get VERY greasy.

UGH! My hair hadn’t been properly washed in a few days, and now my blow dryer didn’t work?!?!?!

Before traveling to Congo, I knew we would be dealing with heat and humidity, and I certainly didn’t expect “looking good” to be a major priority. But I had still hoped to look somewhat decent for the pictures that would capture the precious moment when our daughter was placed in my arms for the first time.

And then I caught myself.

Here I was, on the morning I was FINALLY going to meet Addy, upset over shampoo, conditioner, and a blow dryer.

Wasn’t THIS the moment I had been waiting for?

The whole idea of looking perfect for the camera suddenly seemed ridiculous. I was in Congo. I was about to meet my baby girl for the very first time. Did it really matter what I looked like?

ABSOLUTELY NOT.

After that much-needed reality check, we headed downstairs for breakfast.

Our first glimpse of the breakfast buffet once again reminded us that we were living in luxury during our stay in Congo. The spread was AMAZING! Fresh fruit, eggs, potatoes, three or four different kinds of meat, yogurt, CREPES, and more pastries than we could possibly need. We ate and ate and ate — partly because the food was delicious and partly because we had been warned that we might not get another chance to eat until much later in the day.

Shortly after breakfast, we found ourselves in the lobby with two suitcases and two bags full of donations and goodies for the children, waiting to GO MEET ADDY!

Naturally, we were downstairs by 9:55, completely ready for our 10:00 pickup.

10:00 turned into 10:30, and we reminded ourselves that we were now on Congolese time.

10:30 turned into 11:00.

Ummm...maybe he said 10:00 but actually meant 11:00?!?!?!

FINALLY, at 11:30, D SHOWED UP!!!

YAY! We were off to meet our kiddos!!!!!!

NOT.

D had only stopped by to tell us that he was running late and would need another 45 minutes or so.

Back to pacing the floors.

The anticipation was KILLING us!

Finally, around 12:30 p.m., C, another member of the in-country staff, arrived to take us to our children.

THIS WAS IT.

We were FINALLY on our way!

The ride to the house was educational, eye-opening, fascinating, and, at times, just plain strange. Seeing Kinshasa in daylight gave us an entirely different view of the city from the one we had experienced the night before. There were people EVERYWHERE — men, women, and children of all ages, simply going about life as they knew it.

 
 Of course, we didn’t drive straight to the children.

Our first stop was at a gas station, only we didn’t actually get gas. Another moment when I desperately wished I understood French! C got out of the car, went inside, and returned with a handful of money. We pulled forward a little, and there was some sort of exchange between C and a man at the station. Then we drove around the block, headed back the way we had just come, and stopped at another gas station farther up the road.

This time, we actually got fuel.

Great! Surely now we were headed straight to the kids.

We drove another few miles, dodging potholes, people, and cars, before stopping AGAIN, this time in the middle of a shopping district. C got out and went into a shop. About ten minutes later, our driver climbed out of the vehicle and disappeared into another shop.

The three of us were starting to get a little annoyed.

We had waited MONTHS to meet our children, and now that we were finally on our way, it felt as though we were stopping at every possible place between our hotel and the transition house!

 

A good twenty minutes later, they both returned to the car, and we were back on the dirt road.

A few miles later, we stopped.

AGAIN!

This time, C explained that we were stopping so we could buy the water we had said we needed. Fair enough. We climbed out of the car and headed into the supermarket.

I honestly don’t know what I expected, but the store looked surprisingly similar to any supermarket we might see in the United States, only smaller. Since we were already there, I figured I might as well replace my missing shampoo and conditioner, and A wanted to get a candy bar for her daughter. I also grabbed a small roll of cookies to bring home to E, A, and O.

We walked to the checkout with five items:

• A 12-pack of liter-sized bottled water
• One candy bar
• A travel-sized bottle of shampoo
• A travel-sized bottle of conditioner
• A small roll of cookies

C handed everything over while the cashier calculated our total in U.S. dollars. Bobby pulled out some money, expecting the total to be around $20.

Not $20.

Not $40.

Not even $60.

SEVENTY DOLLARS!!!!!

For FIVE ITEMS!

We almost had a heart attack.

Bobby hurried back out to the car to get more money, only to return and find out they wouldn’t accept his $20 bill because it had one tiny fold in the corner. So back to the car he went AGAIN, this time looking for a perfectly crisp bill.

Once we finally paid and climbed back into the car, the three of us could hardly stop talking about what had just happened. We had spent $70 on a handful of basic groceries!

Not only did the price seem absurd to us, but it left us with an even bigger question: How on earth could local families afford ANYTHING???

(Remember this $70 grocery bill when we meet Wilson later in our adventures.)

We continued climbing a large hill on the outskirts of the city, inching closer and closer to our children. The three of us had grown unusually quiet. Our hearts were racing with anticipation, but our eyes were also glued to the windows, trying to take in everything around us.

We turned this way and that for another twenty minutes or so, slowly making our way through the city and occasionally stopping due to traffic jams or stalled vehicles.

Then we turned into a small alley surrounded by houses. I had absolutely no idea that this little road, lined with boys and girls who were too poor to attend school, was leading us directly to the house where our children were waiting.

There was no announcement.

No “We’re getting close.”

No “We’re almost there!”

The next thing we knew, we pulled up in front of a large metal gate. A gatekeeper greeted us with a huge smile and began opening it.

And there it was.

The BIG YELLOW HOUSE.

The same house I had seen so many times in photographs. The house I had imagined visiting over and over again. The house where our sweet girl had been living while we waited, prayed, and dreamed about finally bringing her home.

The second I saw it, I KNEW.

WE HAD ARRIVED!!!!

After twenty months of waiting, eight months of staring at her pictures, an international flight, a sleepless night, one blown-up hair dryer, hours of waiting, and more unexpected stops than I could count...

Our baby girl was just beyond those gates.

And in a matter of moments, she would FINALLY be in our arms.

To be continued...