The Last DayLeaving Ethiopia was bittersweet. I truly did enjoy my time there and I knew it would be awhile before we would be able to get back. But, at the same time I was SO ready to get home to Cuddlebear and Belle and the comforts of home. It was also scary because I knew the plane rides were not going to be easy. Turns out I was right.
M* had a major meltdown in the airport when we were trying to get through customs. I was actually nervous that they might not let us through. Thankfully we did and we soon found ourselves walking around the terminal. Our first flight went well and M* slept the entire flight. We arrived in Dubai and I was excited bc Emirates had comped a room for us for the long layover. I knew it was only a few hours but I figured we could shower and sleep.
Unfortunately, Dubai was really scary for M*. I think this was the peak of his tantrums. We got on the shuttle from the airport to the hotel and it was pretty full, and the poor thing just couldn't handle it. He screamed, and crawled onto the ground and held on to the seats so tightly that I couldn't even remove him. Everyone was staring of course and most were upset because he was screaming so loud. There were a few other adoptive families actually on the shuttle coming home with their Ethiopian children. You think this would have given me comfort, but watching them with their quiet children only made me feel worse.
The hotel wasn't any better. Sweet M* was wide awake so we took turns trying to entertain him for the 3-4 hours we had there. But, he was angry and hyper and it was difficult to find anything that would hold his attention. It was so exhausting. By this point I started feeling really bad for Captain Crazy. He was crying because he was so tired and needed sleep, but couldn't because of the noise. ugh... it was rough. It was about 2am Dubai time and Sweet M*'s screaming was so loud that a women actually came and knocked on my door and wanted to know what was going on bc she was scared that a child was being hurt. My heart sank and I felt like someone punched me in the gut as I opened the door to show her it was just my poor son having a hard time as a newly adopted child. This was the lowest point for me for sure.
The plane ride from Dubai home was lengthy and M* only slept for maybe 2 hours the whole time- and not consecutively. I literally had to hang out in the bathrooms with noise canceling headphones so the crying wasn't so loud for the other passengers. Passengers were coming downstairs from first class complaining, flight attendants and people on the flight were offering all sorts of help- we took all of them up on it- but nothing worked. Eventually, that plane landed safely.
I can't even explain what a wonderful feeling it was to be on the ground again. To be walking off that plane knowing that my kids were outside the gates waiting for me and that in a few hours I would be home. WE MADE IT!!!