A funny thing happened on the way to Ethiopia...

our lives were changed forever. First and foremost, we were united with our dear baby. But in addition to that, we also experienced a country and people that will always be with us. Come along as we chronicle our trip to Ethiopia to bring home Luci May Rediet.

Here we are in the airport before we left. Our last picture as a family of 5...
I envisioned getting a picture of us in the airport as a family of 6, but I was too emotional and exhausted to remember. The trip there was an adventure in itself. Omaha to Detroit. Detroit to Amsterdam. Amsterdam to Addis(with a stop in Khartoum, Sudan). Here are Tate and I in the beginning when we were still bright-eyed and didn't stink...

Though international flights may cost an arm and a leg, it is kind of nice to be able to watch movies to your heart's content. I loved "Confessions of a Shopaholic". It gets my vote for an Oscar this year. I think Tate watched over 20 movies total on the whole trip. He was pretty stoked about this perk of the trip.
Then after about 24 hours of traveling, we arrived in a country I have loved from afar for over a year now. The birth place of coffee but most importantly, the birthplace of my daughter. We arrived minus one of our bags, the most important one. Of course it was the one with my clothes and Lulu's clothes. We met up with our travel group (people who we deeply love now) and were off to the Union Hotel with a bazillion suitcases and tubs tied on top of a van.

The next day we learned why it's called the "rainy season" right now in Ethiopia. It comes down hard and fast and out of nowhere. When it cleared a bit we went on a little tour of the city. Armed with one word in the official language Amharic ("thank you"), we set off in a taxi. Thankfully the hotel arranged a taxi driver for us who knew some English and who waited for us at each stop. Otherwise, we'd probably still be in Ethiopia right now. Here we are at the National Museum with our taxi driver in the background (in orange)...
He arranged for a tour of the museum for us which was fascinating and very helpful, but a little challenging for an 11 year old boy. Tate was so great about it and it was one of the many times that I was immensely proud of him on the trip. As we were driving off he asked us what we tipped the man who gave us the tour. Oops. That would be nothing. He kindly turned around and drove us back so Bill could sheepishly walk back in and make amends.

It was incredible to get a little bit of a feel for the city...

We went to bed that night knowing that the next morning we would be meeting our daughter. Notice I said "went to bed", not "went to sleep". There wasn't much sleeping. At least not for me. Bill was snoring like an old Granny.

My head was swimming with thoughts of the day ahead. Here is Rediet's referral picture...
How could I sleep when I knew that the baby who we had only seen in pictures would soon be in my arms?