26 July 2010

Oh, it is late in London, Julia is having trouble getting to sleep, and I am having trouble staying awake. I feel so compelled to be present with her these days. How can I sleep when she is awake.

An interesting day which ended so well.

Julia and I got off the plane at 6 in the morning after sleep a woefully short time. Julia slept as we landed -- figured -- ate her breakfast as we taxied to the gate, and was not that crazy of getting off the plane when we did. She was thursty and wanted water. No water to be found just off the plane. We walked forever which I usually don't mind but Julia hated, good mid-western girl that she is.

Then came immigration. I had our passports, perfectly in order, but could not prove that Julia was my daughter. Funny thing was that had we had the same last names, there would have been no question. But as our names are different (and next time, I will include Buchko on her passport because it is on the adoption papers), the officer doubted me. He asked me how I intended to prove my parenthood. I had no answer. He asked why we were here, I told him a wedding but I could not provide him with an invitation. He motioned with his head at Julia and as her, "Who is this woman?" He was high above her and not looking at her. She did not take to this at all, and said, "No, I don't want to answer." He asked if there was SOMEONE in the UK who could vouch for me, and I COULD give him Anthony and Harriet's phone number. He was very grumpy -- I must have either been his first or last customer (?) of the morning. He shoved a detainee paper at me and told me to sit down.

He went away and called Harriet and from what I heard later, she gave him an earful. He came back contrite and very sweet. I resent having to present more than other parents for this sort of officer, but I will carry adoption papers the next time we travel. Why make it harder on ourselves. And I don't want to damage Julia fragile hold on family and belonging.

We found our taxi driver, who chatted constantly as we went to St Albans. I learned the history of the ring road, the new terminal at Heathrow, a St Albans seed distributor, and some opinions about Alice's new in-laws from Canada who he had driven the week before.

We arrived at our tiny flat met by a very charming landlord. The tiny house was still being cleaned but the housekeep, finished one room and then we went in there and waited out her cleaning. We laid down and eventually fell asleep. Contrary to the jet lag myths, we fell into a deep sleep and I finally woke up at 2 in the afternoon.

Julia and I went for a long walk, met Cheshire back at our flat, and saw Alice for a little while. The three of us then were picked up for dinner at the family mance. Dinner was very good, dessert was incredible, and the talking was so very comfortable. It was all very wonderful and hopefully I will crash in a few minutes and sleep for a long night.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

Dear Suzanne,

I know this must have been horrible--especially after such a long flight, but I do find some silver lining it. With the terrible sexual and labor traffic in children internationally, at least the guard wanted to make certain your sweet dinosaur girl was safe! And once he was sure, he backed off immediately. Still, triple stickers for you having to deal with that!! Love, Mary T on the island to your immediate west.

norie said...

i should have warned you of this suzanne...the exact thing happened to me coming home from germany last year...they finally let me go but with an admonition to bring her adoption papers next time...thank goodness cecelia was not yet aware of these differences...this year i brought the papers and then was never asked for it...so i called out adoption agency to ask them if they knew what should be done in this situation and they said to have the airport authorities call the u.s. embassy next time...my name is even listed and signed on her passport as "mother"...ugh...