How not to do Gotcha Day: Part Two

continued from part one The video is not working, sorry! When I get a moment I will try and fix it. I may need to re-upload or something, so I need to figure that out.


Part Two

Todd was supposed to leave to take care of last minute paperwork details, but the person  bringing the paperwork had not yet arrived, so the two of us had some time doing a final visit with all the children.
Just like in past visits, two little girls (M and L) were completely infatuated with him. Leaving them behind is so hard. M wants a family SO badly, she just sits there begging us to be her Mama and Papa. She isn't available for adoption, so her reality is that she will go her entire life always watching others go home with families, never having one come for her.

So... needless to say, it was bittersweet being with the children for our last visit. Since Todd hadn't left yet, he was able to help me dress Elisha in her new clothes. I had picked out an outfit I hoped she would love. Sure enough, she did! She ooh'd and aah'd over the pink pants with bows on the ankles. She put on the dress and started prancing around the room. And then, I brought out the boots... oh how this girl loves a cute pair of shoes! She's so funny. Really, I'm in a bit of trouble I think, because after three boys, I truly have no clue what I am doing when it comes to having a girl, and this one is all girl. She pranced out of the bedroom and everyone fawned over how cute she was.

Our train was at 11:55, and at 11am, Todd was told the person had finally arrived and they could go. Now we were starting to feel slightly stressed, knowing that the time crunch was upon us. He left, and I had another thirty minutes with all the children. I let Elisha just do her own thing, and sat back and watched the kids for my last bit of time with them.

At 11:30, I was told we'd better get Elisha ready and just go; we'd have to meet Todd at the train station. Elisha happily came with me to put on all her snowgear. We rushed to get her into all of her layers (she would be outside for about 45 seconds total, but the doctor insisted she wear a snowsuit!) and the doctor had all sorts of questions as we dressed her. "Do you have food for her?" "Did you bring her more clothes?" Yes, yes, I've tried to prepare for this moment. The Russian doctor stopped and thought for a moment, walked out of the room, and back in with a jar filled with lunch for Elisha and a satisfied look on her face.

As we were rushing, we sort of rushed through our goodbyes as we ran down the steps and into the orphanage's waiting van.  A ten minute drive quickly had us at the train station. We sat and waited for a few minutes, and finally the car with Todd, our facilitator, and the orphanage director pulled up. We all got out and started grabbing luggage. I wanted to take some photos, but at this moment, the train was just pulling into the station. As we turned to quickly head for the train, Todd stopped and said,
"OH MY GOSH. I LEFT THE PAPERWORK."

He had left ALL of our embassy paperwork at where he had just been signing the final documents.

And THAT is when the circus began. Alexander, our facilitator, ran and hopped into his vehicle and sped off.
Svetlana, our translator, ran in all her high-heeled glory toward the train just as it was coming to a stop to talk with someone on board.
Todd, Elisha, and I, along with the orphanage director, just walked toward the train, unsure of what would now happen.

So, we started to climb onto the train, expecting it to pull away from the station. Instead, it waited. And waited, and waited. Without our knowledge, the train conductor had agreed to hold the train until our paperwork arrived. When does THAT happen in America?!

The three of us just stood in the entry of the train, thinking we should go find our seats. Elisha, bless her little heart, stood there right along side not, clearly unsure of what was happening. I could tell she was sensing all of our panic and confusion, as she started getting fussy, so I picked her up, which made her happy. Then she started a game of "Pull Glasses from Mama's Face" so I had to hand my glasses to Todd.

We stood there about twelve minutes, and suddenly, there was Alexander, running out of his vehicle and toward the train, a bright white envelope in his hand. The papers were passed up to us and the train instantly began to move.

Certainly not the goodbye we wanted.

So that, my friends, is how NOT to do Gotcha Day.

We had all our luggage, a child, a stroller, and me without my glasses, and had to make our way through five different cars (including the restaurant car) in order to get to our kupe (train cabin.) Somehow we survived, and Elisha was a trooper through the whole thing. We got settled and instantly gave her the lunch from the orphanage, which she promptly gobbled up.

We'd spend the next seventeen hours on the train, in awe of a kid who takes everything in stride. She ate well, she played well, she slept well overnight. Our train arrived in Moscow at 5am, so we had to wake her early. As I was waking her, I said, "Elisha, your mama and papa are here" and she immediately got a smile on her face as she opened those beautiful little eyes.

In that moment, I decided a less-than-ideal Gotcha Day didn't really matter.. Her. Here. With Us. is the true story worth telling.