The return to 3G

One year.  It's already been one year since I was doing this with these two...

And Adam was doing this, with these two...

That moment you touch down, turn your phone on and see the beautiful words “Verizon 3G”.  Deep sigh of relief.

Money belt and passport free, we made it to our hotel after a painfully anguishing journey from Frankfurt to Dulles.

It didn’t matter though, we were in America.  America, where outlets don’t require adapters, showerheads are affixed to walls, clear tap water runs from every faucet and even signs in Spanish make you feel at home.  We weren’t quite home yet, but it was a beautiful thing the day we landed in Washington, D.C.  One year ago. 

But the interesting thing is that for as homesick as I was and as eager as I was to return to my family, a year later I can’t wait to go back.  I would so quickly jump on a plane back to Ukraine if given the chance.  Naturally, that country will always hold a special place in my heart as it is part of our family now, but it’s more than that.  I truly fell in love with it, with the people, with the way of life.  There is so much that I miss.

The daily adventure of having to “figure things out” like how to buy groceries as you have to create labels for the produce you purchase in grocery stores there.  And you better not take a picture of the sign (or anything else for that matter) to carry with you to the scale in order to make typing in the name of the item you wish to purchase a bit easier lest you be stopped by security, made to feel like a criminal, and asked to erase the picture from your iPhone’s camera roll.

The drive back and forth from the orphanage daily.  Narrowly avoiding pot holes unlike anything we have in America.  Becoming so accustomed to the ride that you could anticipate the dips, valleys and bumps with your eyes closed.

Sitting in awe on the dinkiest stool ever in the kitchen of the teeny apartment that you now call home as you Skype with family and friends a world away for FREE with internet speeds beyond any I’ve ever experienced in America.   There are some benefits to being a post-Soviet country!

Incredible 50 cent cappuccinos from the back of the man’s car parked each day in front of the SDA.  The street vendors eager to not only make a deal, but also make a friend as they visit with so many couples beginning their time “in country” in pursuit of the child or children they hope to welcome into their family.

Meeting in person the people you’ve “known” via social media for a quite a while who are walking the journey alongside you.  The way those people become friends solely based on the fact that you are both there to find Ukrainian children to whom you will give your last name.

And the borscht, oh the borscht.

As I relive all the memories in my mind, I am astounded that one year ago we were a family of six on paper but still not yet in person.

The anniversary of the day we went from a hand-sewn, notarized, blue stamped paperwork family to a real-life, flesh and blood family is tomorrow.

His mercies are new every morning and GREAT has been His faithfulness to get us this far!