Monday, June 27

We started today like any of our last 31 or so, with breakfast, and just a bit of hope that something would happen regarding our returns. Today we had a little more to hope for, as there was a package inbound that should contain at least the other family's visa. Our last information was still ambiguously “forwarded for delivery” in Guam, with no mention of the Marshall Islands. We were still trying to hold brave, patient faces.

The other mother insisted on buying us breakfast, saying she was trying to be patient, but was hopeful it would be her last chance to do so on the island. We guessed and surmised and estimated and hoped aloud. Wouldn't it be great to find it's just a goofy notation in the DHL system? Wouldn't it be swell if both packages were together, and we just had the one tracking number? Would it be awesome if we got a call right away saying “come and get it”?

The last struck a nerve, as she'd run out of both cell phone and Internet minutes. We decided the prudent thing would be to run to the NTA and grab some minimal cards, just in case there would be a need to call. The plan was to then call the embassy, just to be sure they had her cell-phone number, just in case they needed to call and we were out of the room, as we kind of had planned for today.

After the NTA visit, we decided to stop at the DHL office for a bit of info on the package. Perhaps they had an updated status, or at least an explanation of the verbiage on the web site. Also, we had a box of things we wanted to see about shipping instead of traveling with. The box was filled with handicrafts, stuff for us and gifts for others, and a bunch of towels and shirts and stuff used as packing.

The DHL guy was pretty friendly. He checked, and confirmed the package was not only in the country, but was going to be delivered this very afternoon. He also confirmed that there was no other package from the same embassy being delivered today, but told us there was another package from somewhere else. Nice security mindset, dude.

He also took a look at our box. He measured it and weighed it, and found the linear measurement led to a larger size than the 27lbs of weight, and said the fee would be based on the larger of the two measurements. He checked the chart he had and found the fee would be about $670 to ship the box to Minnesota. We decided that was insane, thanked him, and decided we'd find another way to bring the stuff home.

Knowing now that the package would be delivered, and that she was free to go home, the other mother wanted to visit Continental and see about changing her flight. She was curious about seat availability and costs and what she was allowed for baggage. Claire was also curious about bringing our box as baggage, so we zigged across downtown to the Continental office, next to Payless.

The counter women were very friendly. They confirmed that she was allowed one carry-on an a personal bag, and one checked-bag. They looked also at our tickets, and found that because we had purchased a different class of ticket, we were allowed two bags each. We only had one bag each on the way in, so we're good. We checked what the limitations of the box were, and it needs to be less than fifty pounds (done), and have a combined height, width, and depth of less than sixty-two inches.

She had arranged her travel through an agent, and part of it was with United connections, which the Continental people said they couldn't change. With that, and uncertainty that the embassy would be able to process the package and allow her to get it today, she decided to wait to change her itinerary.

We returned to the hotel to wait for word from the embassy. Also, because we were each expecting visits from our birthmothers at around 1PM. We waited for a while, and then went to the restaurant to wait, ordered lunch, ate lunch, and returned to the room.

Around 3PM our birthmother arrived. She and Claire spent a little time doing some jewelry work. We tried our best to let her know that we may have to stop and leave very abruptly because of the impending embassy visit.

Through a roundabout set of calls and checks and whatnot, we learned that the normal embassy receptionist had today off. I'm not sure why that would matter, but I guess what the other mother was doing was calling and asking for her, and when getting turned away, didn't ask someone else for any information about her package. We actually had an e-mail message that said to go to the embassy to get the package.

We made our way to the other mother's hotel room and interrupted her visit with her birthmother. She had been frantically packing, separating stuff she would be taking home and stuff she was giving to her birth-family into separate suitcases. We told her what we learned, and hastily gathered things up for a trip to the embassy before they would stop providing service. Her birthmother speaks English, and we hope made a nice explanation to our birthmother, who seemed to understand what we were doing, and we made a plan for lunch tomorrow with her and her daughters, and then we took off.

We took the other birthmother and her boy with us, but only to the detour in the road, where we dropped them and the giant rolling bag off so they could get a taxi in the other direction. We weren't sure what would happen at the embassy, and we didn't want any more complications than we would just have. We trekked as directly as possible, and got in with about thirty minutes to spare, according to the sign on the entry.

Andrew was alerted we were at the gate, and after a little waiting for him to prepare himself inside, we were escorted in. He was surprised to see all of us, but said we could all listen in, since we'll hopefully be doing the same thing in a few days, and it was fairly informal. She got her son's passport back, with the right stuff stamped or glued to the inside that would satisfy immigrations when she reached Hawaii. She also got a packet of information she wasn't to open, but was to surrender to immigrations in Hawaii. He also gave her a letter asking for assistance from the airline as she was traveling with a newly adopted family member.

He told us he had no news about our package, but when we said we knew it had been approved, he confirmed that. It irked me a little bit, because he could have easily said “I know your request has been approved, but I have no shipping information” instead of “I know nothing,” Shultz style. He also said they hadn't lost one yet, and didn't think they'd start now. He made some small talk hoping everyone's trip had been a good one, and wished the other mother safe travels and a good future.

We made our exit and made good time back to the hotel. She resumed her frantic packing. Somewhere during the day, she'd noticed she couldn't find her small camera. She had two, a big SLR style, and a small handheld, both digital. She hadn't thought to off-load her images, so everything she'd taken with the camera was still in it. She'd asked the hotel and they helped by having security search her room. They put an announcement with a promise of reward on the television, and she had asked us, and I searched our room, twice. After returning, I suggested I could run to the other end of downtown, to the Tide Table, where they had had lunch yesterday to see if perhaps the camera had been forgotten at the table during the drama of yesterday. I did that while Claire stayed to help tend the children while the other mother packed.

The nice gal at the Tide Table hadn't seen a camera. She asked another gal there, and they looked through a few drawers at the cashier station. She also went to the hotel's front desk, and they looked and didn't find one, either. She told me that no one who works the lunch time was still there, and that sometimes when they find things they take them home and bring them back the next day. Goofy, but whatever. She said she'd ask the staff, and I said I'd return in the next few days to check again.

I returned and found that the other mother's birth-family had joined the party. She had called her family, and they had arranged changes to her flights, and she was going to be on the next plane off the island. It's tonight or Wednesday or beyond, and she didn't want to miss any opportunity. She jammed things into her bags until they stretched their seams, and I started putting things into the car.

There wasn't room for the whole family, but we did take the birthmother and her other son with us. There was a lot of catching up during the quick drive to the airport. Of course, we've driven to, near, or past the airport a handful of times since arriving on the island, but this one seemed to take the longest. Of course, that it was already dark, and that there was a deadline just made it seem like it was taking longer.

They do stop check-in about ninety minutes before departure, so we only had about forty-five minutes to get there when we left the hotel. We took thirty, but she got to the counter before they stopped servicing check-ins. They looked through her bag, deemed it safe. Then deemed it overweight by seven pounds, so she pulled some stuff out of it, and it was accepted. They took way too long trying to get the bag checked all the way through her travels to Boston, but since she had a more than one-day (by hours) layover in San Francisco, the system was giving them guff.

While we were waiting, we ran into Lauren, the artist gal, who was seeing-off some of her friends. She said glad-to-meet-ya and farewell, and big congratulations for making it this far, and good luck in the future, and all of the other right things. We learned that she's leaving the island for Italy on Friday, so we said “good luck if we don't see you again,” too. She said she'd definitely be in touch, as she's very intrigued by my offer to help her come up with a website for selling her art.

The other adopting mother was at wits end from the endless waiting, and asked me to see if they would just let her collect and re-check her bag in San Francisco. The gal at the counter apologized for not informing her that they had been able to get the bag confirmed all the way through, but they were having a problem printing the baggage strip. She was good to get on the plane, and they'd bring her the strip when they got their printer working. The plane wouldn't leave without both her and her bag, but she needed to get through the gate soon, before they closed it, and there was a problem because a checked-in passenger failed to board.

We said our bittersweet farewells. She expressed unending gratitude for helping her stay sane during the last three weeks since her husband and daughter left. Her boy had been sick and energetic and didn't like to sleep much at a stretch, so she was frazzled and exhausted, despite appearances. She said good-byes to her birthmother and her son, and we pushed her through the doors to the airplane.

We waited just a few moments to see if she'd come back out, forgetting something at the last minute, but she didn't. In Marshallese style, since we said our farewells, we left the airport.

We were happy that she was off. We were a little sad we weren't traveling together, as we'd talked about over the last month or so. We were also a little awkward as we gave her birthmother a ride all the way to Rita, at the far side of the island.

We know adoption is a big deal, for both parents. We're very excited to work with our birth-family to stay in contact in the future. What we haven't considered, until leaving the airport, is what to say or do about the moments after it becomes really real, when we get on that plane.

There have been moments of really real already. We started with a brief meeting, when Grace went home with her birthmother. We had a babysitting night, but again she went home. Then at court, and every day since, she's gone home with us. While we've had some hasty time -crunching departures, we've tried very hard to never “dismiss” our birthmother,  or shut her out. We've run into her a few times, and always welcomed her to visit for a while, and have always tried to make the visits good ones..

We've also tried to respect the separation she must be feeling, and haven't thought anything bad about when they go for a stroll around. Even after the disappearing trick by the other birthmother yesterday (which had been discussed and resolved between the two before the departure), we haven't had any negative thoughts about our birthmother taking Grace for a stroll around the area we're in. We're not trying to break any bond they have, and she seems truly happy with the one we've developed.

We've seen the glee and sadness when she says good-bye to Grace, though. There was the one playful time when she held Grace as they said good-bye to us when we left their home, but it was all in good fun and short-lived. There's always a pouty lip when our birthmother leaves. I believe it's part pantomime, since we've got our verbal barrier, but I believe there's that same bittersweet sadness and glee when she says good-bye.

Tonight, though, it was not our birthmother. What do you say? Even more, what's culturally appropriate? At home, we might give a “how you doing?” Which, in fact I did, but either she didn't hear me, or didn't think I meant it for her. In most settings, just the expression provides comfort, even if it's just an acknowledgement of difficult times.

There was some light banter as we drove across town. Some small talk about things we saw along the way. Some recounting of things we'd done at places we passed. Eventually, we made it to the right street and then the right alley and then the right house. They hopped out with thanks, and just walked off. I slowly backed out the alley onto the street, and we made our way back to the hotel, talking a bit about all of what had just happened, and wondering what to do or say or how to act when it came to be our turn to leave.

Grace had endured much more action today than any other day since we arrived. That includes trips across the lagoon, and visits to the doctors, and racing around to see the first couple off. She was denied her long midday nap, and had been cranky at the airport to make us pay for it. She had fallen asleep in the car, and was totally out by the time we got back to the hotel. Claire changed her diaper and clothes, and she barely stirred, so we decided to stay in.

I ran to the restaurant to order a take-out pizza. I ran into bubu who asked if we found the camera. I said we hadn't. She thought it was our camera, but I explained that it was the other family's camera. I also surprised her with the news that they had gone home just a short time ago. She nervously asked when we were leaving, and I said we hadn't received our papers, but it could be any time in the next week. I wanted to say that we'd have more notice and wouldn't necessarily jump on an airplane just hours after we got the news, but I know Claire's pretty anxious to go home. If things happened in the right order, we'd probably be jumping on the next plane after we hear that our package has arrived, too.

I told her also that Grace was fast asleep after enduring a day of crazy excitement. I apologized to her for the quick running out on our birthmother this afternoon. She said she knew why, and would make sure that our birthmother knew we had wanted to spend more time with her. We have plans for lunch tomorrow, which she said she'd make sure were also clear, and that the girls were invited, too. There was a little confusion about that after the “moms-only” lunch yesterday.

I ordered the pizza, and returned to the room. It'll take about thirty minutes to cook, and they would call. We plugged in a fresh disk of The Big Bang Theory, and knocked off an episode. Grace was still sleeping, so I ran down to the restaurant to wait, rather than have them ring the phone and disturb her. It wasn't but a couple minutes and bubu came out of the kitchen with it. We chatted for a  minute or two, clearing up the camera thing and lunch again, and she wished Grace and Claire a good night.

I returned, and we watched a couple more episodes while we ate the whole (small) pizza. We were pretty hungry, and only then realized we'd skipped lunch and snacks all day. Exhausted, we turned in, hopeful for travel news tomorrow.