Even When the Journey's Rough...

**This post is a re-run from my old blog. After yesterday's somber post, I decided I needed something fun, and this one is a good reminder to me that even when the journey's rough, the result can make it worth the ride.**

At the beginning of the month, we loaded up the car and headed for Maine.  We planned to take the scenic route; we couldn't get into the house until 3 o’clock anyway, and we’d been on the MassPike enough lately.  Less than 20 minutes into our drive, we came to a detour, or rather, a road closed and no clear detour indicated.  We went around and around the curvy, hilly roads, and eventually made our way into the next state.  The curvy, hilly roads were too much for Emmeline, however, who realized she needed Dramamine.  We couldn't find it in the car.  Next to her, Teddy threw up.

We stopped at the next biggish town (which didn't come soon enough) so we could get Dramamine, water, and a map.  Things were tense.  We stopped for gas. We drove off, spent a few minutes on a major highway, and pulled off to consult the map again.  Eric asked, “Where’d I put my wallet?" just as a car pulled up beside us and a very nice woman proceeded to tell us how she’d seen Eric’s wallet cling to the top of the car for a few minutes, then fly off onto the highway, scattering its contents in the breeze.

We drove back to the highway. Tense doesn't even describe the mood in the car.  We pulled to the side and with a stern warning to Emmeline to stay put, Eric and I walked along the side of the road, looking for all the important cards and things that had drifted into the weeds.  They must have been scattered for a mile.  We found everything important, however, and set off again.

The rest of the drive was fairly uneventful, thank goodness. And, of course, the end result was wonderful… a week’s vacation at one of my favorite places, with some of my favorite people.

 It reminded me of our trip to Ukraine to adopt Emmeline.  I’d never traveled to a foreign country (except Canada, which doesn't count because it’s only a few hours away).  I loved the flight, and I felt very worldly.  Even the hotel room, with its two narrow single beds, and the spigot shared between the bathtub and the sink, couldn't completely quell my excitement.  Until we went to what was then called the National Adoption Center.

We looked through stacks of binders with out-of-date pictures of children, so many children.  It was so much more overwhelming than I had expected.  At last, we decided to travel 16 hours by overnight train to meet a 4 year old girl.  Of course, it all turned out so well… that little girl became our daughter a week later. But there was a time during the early days of the trip when I was so terribly homesick, so confused, so tired and uncertain.  Our facilitators back home called my mom and dad and told them I could use a cheery call from home.  Somewhere, there is a picture of me sitting on the bed in pajamas, talking on the phone and crying.  I’m not entirely sure why Eric took it, but it does serve to document the trip from every angle.

It wasn't long before things felt right, we were in love with our daughter, the process was going smoothly, and we found a fantastic restaurant where we ate every night until we left the region.  When I remember our time in Ukraine, I don’t dwell on that brief low.  The rest of the trip and the ensuing years of parenthood make it all worthwhile.  Just like our week in Maine, which I remember as early morning walks on the beach, wave jumping in the afternoon, talking around the table (a favorite pastime in our family), and eating all our favorite vacation foods, I know there was more to Ukraine than a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad time.  There was laughter and love, lots of UNO, discovering new foods, and discovering new things about our daughter every day.