First Night in Hotel, Mukachevo

Midnight

It is now just after midnight, officially Sat AM. There is so much to update- Mena & I are back in Kiev, in a new apt, to wait out the last week before flying home! OMG, I truly can't believe it!!

Mena's first night in the hotel with me was Tuesday night in Mukachevo. We did all the paperwork somehow that day and went to collect Mena from the orphanage for the last time at about 5pm. I really wanted to rip the bandaid off quick, so to speak, so the plan was to go in, change her clothes to the ones I packed, take a few last photos of the people who weren't there the day before and leave with as little fuss as possible. As soon as I walked to the door Mena was freaking out with smiles and a bounce in her step. She knew today was the day! The other kids were much more subdued than I was expecting, which was weird, but made it a lot easier, admittedly. Only one little girl was hysterical, crying and crying, "Marika don't go!" over & over. Natasha did her best to calm her down as we all left the room. It was us, Nadia, another lady who cared for Mena before too, the sweet orphanage doctor, and the director. We went into another little room that looked like a relaxing room for maybe breaks, and the blonde lady who cares for the babies was chattering to Mena, and was helping her undress. I kind of wanted to dress her myself, as symbolically she was my daughter now, but then I figured you know what? Big deal- I'll have the chance to dress her forever after this- I'm OK that this lady who will never see her again wants to do it one last time. So I just stood back and let her do it. Everyone was smiling and we took a few pictures, there was excitement in the air but also some sadness. By the very definition of success at doing their job perfectly, it meant loss in the end result for the people who looked after & cared for our daughter. Success because they had raised a beautiful little girl who was happy, chirpy, trusting & smart, so now she was prepared to leave them forever.

Finally it was time to say goodbye and we all began walking down the long, dim hallway. Nadia carried Mena, and at the end, handed her to me for the last time. All I could croak out was "Thank you, Nadia, thank you," over and over again while we both were crying. I hugged her so tightly, and kissed her cheeks, and she kissed Mena goodbye & then she had to leave, it was too hard. Last hugs & more soft tears from everyone, and then we opened the door and stepped out into the newly dark night sky and the rain. 

I held Mena on my lap in the backseat as we drove to the hotel, captivated by my new daughter as I watched the streetlights flash gently into the car, illuminating her face like film slides as the rain splashed against the windows. She was looking out, taking in everything with no fear of traveling to doctors for more needles the way she was so terrified when we went to get passport photos done the previous week. We arrived and went into our room. She was fascinated by everything! The buttons on the TV! The remote control for the air conditioner! The biggest bed she had ever seen! The nightside table with a lamp! She scooted around checking all of it out as I watched, giggling. She jumped into the bed and pulled up the covers to her tiny nose and was laughing & smiling. I thought to myself, yippee, bedtime is going to be a piece of cake! (If I only knew what awaited...) The plan was to let her settle down, then go to the restaurant downstairs for some borsht, then bedtime. She was enthralled by the 2 budgies in the cage in the restaurant, and less a fan of the goldfish in the fountain that all scattered & bolted when our shadows loomed above them in the water. She ate really well, and I encouraged dip-dip bread into soup to fill her up even more. She drank some warm milk & was so happy. She had the waitresses utterly charmed, she was so cute!

We prepared for bedtime and she changed into her new pyjamas happily. But then realizing what comes after pyjamas, it all became real & scary for her and the meltdown started. She kept pointing at the door, and was saying the same thing over & over as she sobbed so heavily her entire little body shook. I walked around the room trying to calm her down in my arms, then I decided to go get Natasha. As luck would have it she was just coming up the stairs with a cup of tea when I opened our door, so she immediately came inside asking what was wrong; I explained. We all got into the bed and Natasha was a lifesaver. Honest to G-d, if she wasn't there, I don't know what I would have done. She whispered to Mena non-stop as she calmed down, and we lay in the now dark, the relief flooding through me was immeasurable. She said she was telling Mena a fairy tale, and poems- in between telling her she was OK. She said that when she was hysterical she kept repeating, "the children! The children!" like she had to sleep in her own little bed with all the other little kids in her group. Natasha said, "Don't cry, all the children are sleeping, you are the only little one still up!" which gently took her mind off things. Finally Mena became drowsy and it was safe for Natasha to leave, so she quietly closed the door. I asked Mena if she wanted to snuggle close to Mommy and she nodded yes, and scooted over while I cuddled her and smoothed her forehead (how my Mom always did for me- and how I loved that!) and she drifted off. Then she changed positions and put one tiny little trusting arm over my neck and fell asleep on her tummy, face down into the pillow. 

How scary this first night must have been for her, I can't even imagine. The next morning she awoke all smiles and we prepared to leave for the main town an hour away where the passport office was located. Natasha thoughtfully went to the corner shop & came back with a couple of bananas & some yogurts for us while I packed up the suitcases and got us ready to go. Mena happily munched away at her breakfast, then it was bathtime. I had helped with this at the orphanage so I knew the routine: each kid sat down in the shower stall and was hosed down, shampooed, and then scooted out in a towel- a very cute military operation for a whole army of 4 year olds! I one-upped the tradition by putting a bath matt in the shower so she could sit on that as it trapped a bit of heat from the water, so I thought. Then it was time to strip down and hop in. This is where the next meltdown started. 

I showed Mena everything was OK by getting in in my nightie, and spraying my feet with the showerhead, trying to encourage her to try it herself. Hot water was in short supply at the orphanage, so I was hoping that feeling the luxurious warm water would entice her in even more, but it was a no-go. Finally I had to resort to lifting her in as she cried. I tried to be as chirpy as possible, washing her hair gently, as she sobbed. Then I gave her the soap so she could wash herself, which she did through the tears. At last we were all done so I wrapped her in a warm towel and cuddled her, as we rocked together on the end of the bed and I whispered how proud I was of her, that she was OK, and that Mommy would be there forever to take care of her. The sobbing subsided, and I gave her a tiny glass of juice and we continued rocky-rocky-hush. Poor little mite.

We left the hotel on time and drove an hour to the passport office that literally was on the Slovakian border- if you looked over the hill in the parking lot you could see villages in the country. It was a good ride, through the beautiful countryside and the hour flew by. Until we were about 10 minutes away and poor Mena projectile vomited her breakfast up over everything. She had never been in a car  that long, and clearly it was too much for her. Barf all down her new pink little coat, down her jeans, on her shoes, and all over my leg. We pulled over and tried to clean up, again, wonderful Vladimir, a dad himself to 2 sons in their late teens/early 20's, proved again the type of kindhearted soul he was- rather than freaking out over his bawdy car, his only concern was little Mena, and he helped handing me tissues and getting water out of his trunk. I had to completely change Mena at the side of the road and was so thankful for pinching the entire roll of toilet paper from our room when we left! I had nothing else in the way of clean jeans to change into myself, so I had to wipe off my leg and continue on in the car. Thank my stars it wasn't stinky! That was a complete miracle in itself, and a good thing too because just as we were practically pulling into the passport office, she threw up all over again, including the children's Gravol pill I had just given her. Sigh.

To make a long story short, the 2nd absolute miracle that took place that day was the fact that Natasha the magician, somehow she managed to get us Mena's passport in 2 HOURS, a feat that can take up to 2 WEEKS in some regions! I honestly don't know how she does it, but she is such an experienced expert, again & again all I can say is without her, I don't know what I would have done. 

That meant that in the very afternoon we would be on the 17 hour train journey back to Kiev- zero waiting. We bought our tickets and left at 2:30pm. It was a rainy day, but before we boarded we stopped at a supermarket to get sandwich things & snacks & drinks for the train. It was Mena's first time in a supermarket and I would need another entire post to tell you how much fun it was to watch her take in more food than she could even get her mind around- especially the cookie section! She also hugged the deli meat counter. (And a spooky thing she did- we were looking at cookies when there was a lady in a leather coat with long auburn hair with her back towards us. I was carrying her, but she reached/pointed at the woman and said, "Mama?" so certainly that the other woman turned around. Remembering? Maybe so- we had seen a photocopy of her birth mother's passport photo, albeit upside-down on a desk and the hair did look similar. Mena was less than 1.5 years old though when she was placed in care and clearly this lady was too old to be a mother when she turned around. But it was interesting!)

Saying goodbye to Vladimir at the train brought more teary eyes- for all 3 of us. What a lovely man this guy was, and what a rock he was the entire time for us. Cheerful each & every day, nothing was ever a problem, he even went above & beyond & helped us go grocery shopping- helping us by speaking to people in the store when we would show him the Point-it book. He had very little English himself, so what a guy for stepping in to try & figure things out with us. And he knew money was becoming a serious problem, and in pure kindness we began to notice him "forgetting" to charge us for stuff like waiting the 2 hours at the orphanage etc. I hugged him so tightly as he wished us every happiness in our life with Mena, and every dream to come true for her future. I could barely speak I was so touched. We will never forget him or how good he was to us.

And so began the 17 hour ride to Kiev.