Re-Entry Part 1. . .

Leaving Horizontina wasn't incredibly emotional for me. I shed a few tears during our last week there, but I didn't feel a huge sense of loss. I knew I had so much to look forward to! I think I was so concerned with Adri and how she was going to travel that I didn't spend a lot of time thinking about what we were leaving behind. I knew I'd have time later to process it all.
The drive to Porto Alegre was fairly uneventful. Emma is our little rockstar traveler. She sits in her seat and is easily entertained by a piece of paper, or just one book, or just looking out the window. She's so easy to travel with. Adri did OK. She's not a huge fan of her carseat, but she's going to have to get over that. She actually did surprisingly well for having spent so little time in her carseat in the previous months. When we got to the airport, I suddenly felt the urge to buy everything written in Portuguese. I wanted the books, the mugs, the t-shirts (even the ugly ones). I wanted to grab anything that would remind me of the country where I spent three years, knowing I'd likely not return for a long time. I fought the urge and walked away. If there's something I really want, I can always have someone pick it up for me. Truth is, I didn't really need anything. The flight to Sao Paulo was just OK. Adri cried a lot and I had many sympathetic looks. Brazilians are so gracious and they love children. Nobody seemed annoyed, only concerned that she wasn't happy. We were told we couldn't use our carseats on the plane because of a law. We told the flight attendant that we've always used Emma's carseat and that it's always been OK. She didn't argue and let Emma stay in her seat. I held Adri for the flight. After a while of hearing her cry, the flight attendant came and told me that I could put her in her carseat if that would make her happy. I loved that. In the U.S., a law is a law. Nobody gets a freebie. In Brazil, a law is a law, unless someone doesn't want it to be. Then it's OK to not obey it. I smiled at the lady and held on to Adri, knowing her carseat wouldn't make her happy anyway.
The overnight flight was somewhat of a nightmare. In my mind, I imagined Adri going to sleep before we boarded and then Emma going to sleep shortly after. Then I was going to think about all the things I was going to miss about Brazil and then dream about all the fun, new experiences we'd have in the U.S. Then I was going to sleep and wake up in my home country. Well, Adri was asleep when we boarded and Emma did fall asleep shortly after. But then Adri woke up. I nursed her and then tried to get her back to sleep. No go. After an hour and a half, I finally put her in the bassinet. We had to wait until we were at cruising altitude to put her in it. The lights were still on and the flight attendants were serving dinner. It was after 11pm. Adri kept looking around and just couldn't seem to get comfortable. It was almost midnight, so I picked her up and nursed her again, thinking she'd fall asleep. After a few minutes, her eyes were closed and I relaxed. Just then, Emma started coughing. I turned to her, thinking I'd somehow shush her so she wouldn't wake Adri up. Her coughing got harder and I thought that maybe I should get her a drink. Suddenly, something white came out of her mouth. Then she just started vomitting all over. I quickly turned to Kevin on my right (who had fallen asleep about half an hour earlier), hit him once on the chest and then dropped Adri in his lap. She immediately woke up and wanted to observe her surroundings. Emma was crying, covered in vomit. I caught some of it in my hands, but that was useless. It was all down the front of her pajamas, carseat, and the floor in front of her. A sweet flight attendant gave me some club soda and washcloths and we got her cleaned up as much as possible. It was nasty and everything smelled of orange juice and pao de queijo, the cheese bread Emma had eaten for supper. Finally, after 1am, Emma's eyes were closed again and Adri was in her bassinet. Shortly after, she was asleep. Sometime after 2am, I fell asleep, only to wake up again before 3am to Emma's coughing. I didn't really think she was sick; I just thought her coughing had made her puke. The second time made me wonder what was going on. She puked all down the front of herself again. I caught even more in my hands than the first time and Kevin had jumped up to help, catching some in his hands, too. Our eyes were half-open. Our hands were covered in our daughter's vomit. I felt like a zombie trying to clean her up. Fortuneately, I had a change of clothes in her bag. She fell asleep in my seat while I cleaned her carseat. Finally, she was asleep again. Kevin was asleep. I crashed, only to be woken up less than half an hour later by the flight attendant. She told me I needed to get Adri out of the bassinet because the seatbelt sign was on due to turbulence. She left and I sat there, angry that she had woken me up and angry because there was no turbulence. I went to the bathroom, not really wanting to wake Adri up and knowing if I did, I wasn't going to get to use the bathroom any time soon. I returned to my seat and sat with my head in my hands, exhausted and wanting desperately to sleep and let my girls sleep. I prayed and cried. I was so tired. Just then, I heard the seatbelt sign ding; it went off. I closed my eyes and fell into a deep sleep. . . for about twenty minutes or so. Emma started coughing again. I was more prepared and had one of the airplane blankets completely covering her. It was mostly bile by the third time, so not as disgusting, but vomit nonetheless. She took a drink of water and went back to sleep. By then, I couldn't really fall asleep. Adri woke up about an hour later and I nursed her. Emma then woke up and I took her to the bathroom to go potty. She complained that her stomach hurt and then she bent over and vomitted in the toilet. Fourth time, not much left in there. We returned to our seats and waited for the landing in Dallas. I don't remember having a real moment to grieve leaving Brazil. I wanted to. It just didn't happen. Suddenly we were on the ground in the U.S. Kind of anticlimactic. One of the first things I noticed was how bright and clean and beautiful and new the airport felt. I heard so much English. I held Adri close to me and we stepped in line behind thirty other Americans who were re-entering the country. In Brazil, the elderly, handicapped, pregnant women, and families with small children take priority in lines. They skip ahead to the front and everyone respects that. We got in line and I looked at Kevin and said, "Welcome to the U.S." While there are many things I'm going to love and look forward to, I will definitely miss the priority line!
I heard so much English. I couldn't block it out. I wanted to. It was overwhelming. I didn't want to listen to everyone else's meaningless conversations. I was exhausted. The agent who stamped our passports looked like he hated his job. He didn't even smile when he said, "Welcome home." Gee, thanks, Sir. We claimed our luggage, rechecked it, and headed for the SkyLink. As we were going up the escalator, two men behind me began speaking in Portuguese. I listened and enjoyed hearing their conversation. I turned and spoke to them in their language. As we walked off the escalator, it hit me. The tears came and I couldn't stop them. The realization was like a tidal wave. I'm never again going to live in a place where Portuguese is spoken more than English. I won't hear it every day. I can't explain the emotions. All of it ran through my mind - leaving the U.S., learning the language, the frustrations of it and then the beauty of being able to communicate with Brazilians, and now it's over. How did it all pass so quickly? Will I lose what I've learned? Who have I become? I know I'm a different person than I was three years ago. I'm just not really sure who that person is now.taking the next several months, or years, to figure that out:) More on the re-entry to come. I have a lot to process and we've had a very busy week. We're here though, and so very thankful for that.