The Escalator Ride

I had waited for that moment for what seemed like an eternity. We stepped off the train and approached the bank of escalators directly in front of us. Which one should we choose? I'm guessing the middle one would be best. I had never before put so much thought into which escalator would transport me to the Baggage Claim area at the Atlanta airport.

But, this time was different.

In my arms was a sandy-blonde haired boy with brand new jeans and sparkling white little tennis shoes and an enormous green apple that had been in his clutch since we left the Moscow Marriott at 4 o'clock that morning (18 hours prior, to be exact).

At the top of the escalator at the airport that day was a throng of family and friends--all bearing posters and balloons and steeped in anticipation...waiting to meet this new addition to our family.

Our first child.

It had been a long road to this moment. Years of trying to conceive, followed by the death of my mother which sparked in me a "life is too short" attitude...nudging us down the adoption path. There had been seminars and paperwork and medical visits, shots to guard us from illness while traveling abroad, home studies, background clearances, financial reviews and yes, even a letter stating that our dog had received all the appropriate vaccinations. We were ready.

I got the call at work that the Russian courts had offered us a date to return and bring our child home (we had been on Trip 1 a few months prior). I was at work and my coworkers jumped up and down in delight--as excited as I was that it was happening. We were going to be parents.

After an agonizing week in Russia discovering that Daniel had been hospitalized with chicken pox and we could not see him until it was time to take him home... we finally became parents. Appropriately, he became ours on Mother's Day 2004 in the waiting area of a hospital in the middle of nowhere Russia. It was time to go home.

I travel quite a bit for business and had taken that steep escalator ride many a time. Each time I traveled during the adoption process, I would slowly ascend to the top and dream that Daniel was in my arms and we were finally coming home.

Well, this time, it was for real.

Finally...it was happening. A neat twist to the story was that the same coworkers that had shared in the joy of "the call" that day happened to be returning from a trip as well. They were the first to meet Daniel and got to make the "trip" up to the family and friends area with us. The doors to the train opened announcing our arrival at the terminal. We chose the middle escalator and my son was holding on tight to me with the bright green apple in his grasp. I glanced upward at the natural light pouring in knowing that, in just a few more moments, I would introduce this precious child to some really important people in our lives.

The slow creek, creek, creek echoed the pounding of my heart. Here we go.....my pulse quickened as we waved at the video camera being held by Keith as he captured the moment. The escalator came to the top, leveled out..................

and we saw them.

Balloons and banners and posters and people that we love cheering with relief. It was over. We were home. I approached my father and tears of relief poured forth. My sister, who was pregnant at the time, could not hold Daniel because of the chicken pox but she cried and shared in the joy of the moment. Friends embraced Daniel like he had been ours forever. It was one of the most special moments of our life.

I recall this story because I got the joy of watching some of our best friends take that ride yesterday. Their long journey to parenthood ended in the delivery room of a California hospital as they welcomed little Jackson into the world. Their arrival at the airport was important to me because I had been there. I had felt that relief and the needed embrace of familiar faces.

In a true role reversal, Daniel and I were now sitting on the floor, Keith was poised with camera ready and we waited...and we waited...and every cluster of new arrivals caused our heart to skip a beat. Then we saw them. Melissa and Jimmy...after years of being the "favorite aunt and uncle," the couple who everyone said "would make such great parents." There they were, stepping off the escalator with a bundle in their arms. Tears overcame me as I walked over and embraced my friend. They had done it. They navigated the turbulent waters of adoption and arrived home safely with their baby boy. We hugged for what seemed like an eternity as we shared in the happiness of the moment.

For many, the escalator to Baggage Claim at the Atlanta airport is nothing more than that. But for us and many other families, it serves a much bigger purpose. It is the "hospital room," the nursery window, if you will. It's the place to beam with pride and introduce your child to those you love.

It's a very special ride, indeed.