Welcome home!

To celebrate the fact that we were finally going home, I ordered room service for dinner. Authentic Guatemalan goodness. I can't remember what exactly was on my plate, but I think cardboard covered in ketchup would've been just fine with me that night. I do remember that, for the price, it should've come with a side of pure gold. 

The next day, we received Ellie's visa and I had to raise my right hand and swear that everything I had told them was true. That was it. No confetti, no congratulations from the embassy worker, no high fives. Just a "you're done" and a call for the next number in line. 

But inside, I was shouting with joy. Even though our process had been incredibly short compared to most, and our outcome was amazing, the past two weeks had been more than I was prepared for. I finally saw the proverbial light at the end of the tunnel.

I packed our things that night. Ellie slept soundly most of the night, but I didn't sleep much at all. Isn't that the way it goes?

We flew home the next day. My first experience flying with a baby. We managed to have an entire row to ourselves, so I spread out bottles, diapers, and blankets and made myself at home. There were a few other families flying home on our flight as well, and the flight attendants seemed very well versed in baby needs. Ellie did great. She slept most of the way and just before we arrived, I made sure to change her clothes for her big debut. A girl needs to be well-dressed (and free of spit up) when meeting important people. 

We made it into Atlanta at rush hour on a Friday evening.  I cried as our plane landed and whispered to Ellie "Welcome home!"

And here's where I need to mention that I didn't have a stroller or baby sling with me. Kyle had called Delta and requested there be one waiting at the gate for me. However, there was nothing when I arrived. I was too impatient to wait and figured how bad could it possibly be to just carry her? So off we went through the airport.

If you've ever come into Atlanta from out of the country, you know what's involved. Add to that a couple more stops through immigration and you have a very. long. process. I walked the length of the airport with a not-quite 3 month old in my arms, a carry-on bag on my shoulder, and pulling a large suitcase. I was finally able to drop our luggage off in another spot where it was sent to its final destination for pick-up.

(Note: When we came in from Guatemala last year, this process had changed and we only picked up our luggage once!) 

We stopped at customs and immigration and eventually, somehow, miraculously made it up the escalator where throngs of people were waiting. Through them all I spotted three excited little boys holding a bright pink sign that said "Welcome home, Ellie and Mommy" 

I cried again.

It was over. She was home. God had surely been with us, and His fingerprints were all over our journey. We strongly believe that before the creation of the world, God planned for Ellie to be part of our family. Before we even knew that adoption would touch our lives, He had already planned for us to parent this beautiful child. 

Adoption is such a picture of the gospel, of our adoption into God's family.  Galations 4:5 says that "God sent him to buy freedom for us who were slaves to the law, so that he could adopt us as his very own children."

“It’s important to realize, then, that we adopt not because we are rescuers. No, we adopt 
because we are rescued. And in this way, the gospel uniquely portrays, compels, and ultimately sustains adoption." - David Platt

These are horrible pictures (of pictures) and, sadly, the only two pictures we have from our arrival. It was a bit chaotic getting out of the airport with four children under 5 years old and all of our extended family.