All was well until one of my children got sick while we waited at the gate. I completely expected it. I had this feeling that this day wasn't going to be easier than the day before.
There are times, and I believe they happen in any adoption, where the spiritual warfare is so great that there are only two choices to make: cry and pray or laugh and pray. The prayer part has to happen regardless of the other chosen response. Thankfully today I was able to laugh (inwardly) and pray as I tracked down the nearest janitor to ask for a trash bag to use in case said child got sick again. I thought to myself, "Well, this 100+ gallon size bag should carry us through to Phoenix and fit nicely inside my backpack along with the stack of at least 200 paper towels he gave me."
My sick child refused to take the Dramamine that I brought with me prior to the flight so I knew this was gonna be another fun adventure. I purchased Sprite and some pretzels from a vendor nearby and we stood in line to board.
Thankfully 10 year old children are more self-aware and so when they vomit on an airplane, they have pretty good "aim." Barf bag number one filled. I called for a flight attendant to discard the bag and when she came she acted like she couldn't believe I didn't want to sit and hold the bag for the duration of the flight. "No Ma'am, I don't exactly enjoy holding other peoples' vomit and that large trash bag you have been carrying through the cabin seems like a nice spot for it. Besides it smells no worse than the "food" some of these folks paid to eat just moments ago."
Well, let's just say the vomiting continued, but I'm done talking about it.
We landed in Denver. Phew. Off to find our next flight. The gate number was really high and having flown through Denver on multiple occasions the thought occurred to me that the really large number could be indicative of a very small aircraft.
Yep. When we rounded the corner in the wing of the terminal directing us toward those larger numbers, I spotted our personal-size aircraft. Okay, it wasn't horribly small, but everything's relative when you have a sick child. "Perfect," I thought, "the motion on this little plane is totally going to help settle my child's stomach." Oh, and the fact that we were seated in the last possible row...conveniently located adjacent to the restroom. Oh my.
As we descended into the desert valley that is Phoenix, Max commented, "Wow, it's pretty." Inwardly I laughed as I thought, "I couldn't disagree with you more." I didn't think telling him that his new hometown is actually not that beautiful would help things so I kept my opinion to myself.
One short, vomit-free flight later, we landed at our final destination! Never thought it would really happen!
It seemed to take forever and a day to get off that airplane. Excitement levels were rising, as were nerves just a little. Kate was mostly cool, calm and collected as she was probably thinking, "Been there, done that, and just happy to be home again." Max was more eager and yet hesitant as we walked through the terminal knowing at some point we would be greeted by Dad, Charlee, Andee, Grandma and Grandpa.
Walking through Sky Harbor never felt so good to this mama. We made it.