In the days anticipating our trip to Guyana, and on the plane rides, too, I kept imagining what it would be like to share in the reunion of Afeefa with her family. For myself, I was already grieving the "goodbye" that was soon to happen. I had watched my kids say goodbye to Afeefa the morning we left, and seeing their tears and their grief definitely triggered the sadness in me, too. But, I was also feeling a sense of quiet peace and joy, especially when I thought about Afeefa's mom, and the long-awaited reunion that we were about to witness. I imagined arriving at the airport to Afeefa's family, jubilantly waiting for us. I imagined tears of joy freely flowing, and Afeefa somehow recognizing her mom and happily leaving my arms, and going into the arms of her own dear mother.
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| (This is a picture Kristin took right before we entered the airport) |
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Kristin and I had talked about our arrival, and while I had "fanciful" visions of what it could be, I also was keenly aware of how attached Afeefa was to me, so I wasn't sure how things would go. Nonetheless, we prepared for a great reunion. Kristin had the camera ready and we hoped to capture the moment on film.
But before the reunion could take place, we had to go through customs and get all of our luggage---which was a lot because we had all of Afeefa's clothes and toys and things for her therapy. While standing in the customs line, I suddenly realized that I wasn't sure which line to stand in because I had a US passport, but Afeefa's was a Guyanese one. Just as I began puzzling over which line I should be in, a security guard approached me and Kristin. ( I guess two tall, blonde women with a Guyanese child in tow looked a little suspicious.) He began to ask all sorts of questions: "Is this your baby? Why do you have her? Where are you going with this baby? How long have you had her? Does her family know you? etc... Do you know the address to where you are going?" I could answer all of those questions, but the last. I didn't bother taking Afeefa's home address with me since I knew her family would be meeting us there. Apparently my lack of ability to answer that question, however, caused the guard to need to take me and Afeefa out of the customs line, leaving Kristin on her own.
He escorted us out of the airport and said, "Do you see the child's mother?" No, I didn't see her. I didn't even really know what she looked like. After looking around for a minute or two, however, I saw Afeefa's mom come running toward us----yes, this had to be Afeefa's mom. She seemed excited, but not emotional the way we Americans would be at such a moment. And Afeefa's response to her and the whole situation was one of fear and not knowing what was happening. I tried to hand her off to Afeefa's mom, but she held tightly to me. This was not how I had hoped for this special reunion to take place. Furthermore, we didn't even get "the moment" on film. The officer took Afeefa's mom, me and Afeefa back to where our luggage was, and shortly thereafter we were reunited with Kristin (who made it through the customs line on her own with no issues).
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| Kristin, Afsana (Afeefa's mom), Me and Afeefa, and Abdul (Afeefa's dad) |
After gathering our things, we were greeted by an entourage of Afeefa's family members and friends. We gathered together for pictures in front of the airport, and then were on our way to Corriverton, Afeefa's hometown. Kristin and I were "in the zone," as we hadn't slept in 20-some hours, and the shock from the cold to the sweltering heat, the different language (we expected to hear English, as English is the official language of Guyana, but everyone speaks creolese--very interesting from a linguistic standpoint, but when you're half asleep, somewhat challenging.), and just the whole surreal feeling of the day, made for a long car ride. I also kept wanting Afeefa to go to her mom or grandma, and they would attempt to hold her, but she just needed me. Afeefa's mom handled all of this so well----she understood Afeefa's attachment to me and was so good about all of it. For me, all of it was just a bit overwhelming. I had mentally prepared myself to stop being the mom the moment we met Afeefa's family, but it was clear that Afeefa needed me to still be her mom for a few more hours before that transition could happen. And frankly, as much as I felt ready to step back, it was not easy to do.
I think Kristin was able to enjoy---or at least take in the Guyanese landscape on our ride, but I truly don't remember seeing any of it. The only thing I have a clear recollection of is the quaint little fruit stand where we stopped and enjoyed our first "real" bananas and coconut water. Other than that, I was consumed for the whole ride with Afeefa---holding her and contemplating the reality that this was the end of being her "mom." Several hours after leaving the airport in Georgetown, we arrived---Afeefa was home at last.
