Welcome to Charles De Gaulle International Airport

With sweat beads accumulating on my face and completely exhausted from that horrible hour and a half hell descending into France, it was such a relief that these flight attendants were so happy to lead us off the plane. Although I lugged a squirming 1 1/2 year old and a 20+ lb. carry-on bag on each shoulder and would've preferred they offered to take one of my bags, all the same, we were getting out of that tiny 'closet' that we were trapped in for 9 hours. I could not wait to get to the waiting area where the girls would get to see their daddy and I would finally get to hug my husband and have someone whom the girls knew help me out.

As we approached the end of the tunnel leading into the airport I could feel the butterflies of excitement and my pace quickened. The opening to the airport appeared and I didn't even notice that I was carrying all this weight, I didn't notice all the stress I was feeling, it didn't matter. Not until we got out of that tunnel, much to my surprise.

Thinking that Pat would be the sole person left standing there awaiting our arrival, we were greeted by a tall blond French woman who spoke very little english. I searched and looked but there was not a soul! Pat wasn't there. Oh my god, what was going on?!! The women exchanged words in French, which I didn't know any, and the tall blond proceeded to take my daughter from my arms and the hand of my older girl.

With our experience in the past I was terrified. She left me standing with my two carry-on bags, turned and gave me a smile and nodded her head in the gesture for me to follow and started to walk. And she walked really fast. Running through my head were thoughts of fear, what had we done? Where was Pat? Why was this woman walking at such an obscene pace and coddling my baby and playing with my older one and not even talking to me. Where was she taking us and again, why was she not trying to stay near me and not trying to tell me anything? The only thing I could think of of course was that people had complained about me on the plane and made accusations and that I was going to be in trouble.

We walked for a long time and I was keeping my eyes glued to this woman. My legs are somewhat short and her one step equaled 2 of my steps so for me to keep up I was practically running but so tired that I didn't know how long it would be before I fell over. Thank god the bags on my shoulder were balanced in weight because I would've fallen one way or the other.

While we walked/ran I stopped with my panic briefly to take in the sights of this airport. It was amazing. I cannot remember it in detail, just that it was the most amazing thing I had ever seen. It was huge and there were escalators everywhere and I seem to remember tubes around some of them. It was thee most 'sci-fi' thing. But that was just brief. I returned to my panic because it seemed as though we were walking forever. And again those ugly thoughts returned.

Finally, I saw lots of people hovering around this desk like thing with swinging doors just past that. She was taking us to customs. Geez, if only SOMEONE could've told me that I may not have been in such a state. Although I didn't realize that I was at the Customs station until they wanted our passports and went through my bags, asked me what seemed like 50 questions about our visit, how long we were staying and how much stuff I had in luggage.

The people at the customs desk spoke pretty good English and were like interrogators. Very serious, very militant. They scared me too. Once all of this was done, they gave me our passports and said, 'Welcome' and left it at that. I just stood there not knowing what to do next. This woman who had my kids then grabbed my arm and pulled me through the swinging doors.

Holy s***! So that's where all the people were. All I could see were heads. There were so many people. This woman handed me my girls back, gave me a big smile and a hug and told me to enjoy our stay and disappeared back through those doors. I was in shock. Here she had left me to stand in front of this crowd of people who were belted off by a one of those rope lines and not allowed near those doors. I must have looked like I was completely lost and scared. I mean, here I am in front of 100's of people not knowing what I needed to do with my two girls in a foreign country and speak not a single word of French. Upon scanning this crowd while pulling my girls closer to me, these people looked as if they wanted to storm the door. Like a crowd at a football game or concert. I was a lost puppy.

After the initial shock wore off and I replayed everything that had transpired in the last 40 minutes of disembarking the airplane, I realized that people were not allowed to go greet the arriving passengers. At this point, the thought occurred to me that I had to find Pat in this crowd. Oh my god, there were so many how would I ever find him? I bent down to the girls and told them to start looking for their dad. The older one looked at me like I was nuts. So began the search.

Of course I was looking in the wrong places, in the middle of the crowd. It never occurred to me that Pat would be standing anywhere else. I was just so exhausted and confused with all of it. Him and I hadn't talked about all of this. He himself arrived alone, and managed to make it to his destination but it was no easy fete for him. I kept looking and looking and getting more scared thinking that he wasn't there, that maybe he had thought we missed the plane or that he was at the wrong place or that he got the times wrong. Any fear that one might have when their loved ones don't immediately jump out to greet them. After all it did take a long time for us to get to just this point. I couldn't hear anything because it was so loud but a movement caught my eye off to the right. I looked and there he was. All by his little lonesome with a smile, longer hair, and a look of relief, love, and fear as well.

He crawled under the rope, I dropped those carry on bags, grabbed our girls and we hit eachother like a fender bender on the hightway and hugged. I wanted to cry I was so relieved to see a familar face. But after the hug is was a little awkward to talk. We had barely spoken in a month, he had been without the girls and I for over a month. It was just a feeling that neither him or I knew how to deal with. He knelt down, gave the girls big hugs and kisses, picked up the younger one, grabbed the older ones hand and said, "Come on hun, we have to hurry or they will destroy all of your stuff that came off the plane".

Again, the pace that that blond woman was keeping returned. Pat was in a hurry and I was lugging those damn bags around again struggling to keep up. Ugh. While we were walking, he was telling me over his shoulder that security only gives passengers ten minutes to pick up their bags or they will destroy it. They do this for protective measures or something and in case anyone has a bomb or something. It really wasn't a good idea to add to my confusion but I went along with it. We arrived at the baggage claim and the keyboard player was there to greet us and ask which stuff was ours. He then left to go get the car. I was just so lost and flustered with all these events.

Pat assured me that once we left that I would be able to relax and would really love what I was about to embark on. All I could think was 'man I hope so!'