Leaving…

It is hard to imagine that three years ago this morning I boarded a plane and left to go bring my son home from Russia.

The summer of 2005 was very trying in regards to Russian adoptions, as Peggy Hilt had just murdered her youngest daughter (and I mean just).  We packed our bags knowing that we NEEDED extra prayers to get through customs as potential adoptive parents and knowing we would be scrutinized every step of the way.

To put it bluntly, our second adoption trip was absolute hell and I would never, in any lifetime, wish it upon anyone. If it could go wrong it did and I was just too plain worn out and tired to break down and cry (until, of course, AJ started beating on my head in airport security).

The only good thing to come out of that trip was that we finally and better later than never, brought our son home with us.