When my Mom called and asked if I would like to fly down to Vancouver for my older sister's baby shower in August, I thought nothing of it. I figured as I was off of work on maternity leave and had nothing on my agenda, why not go? I agreed and asked my Mom to book me a flight.
I guess what I didn't really think a lot about was the fact that I now have a little human-being attached to my hip (or more accurately, my boob).
My flight to Vancouver was on a Wednesday, and due to Chris's busy summer work schedule, he was not able to fly down until the Friday evening. When I finally realized what this meant (yes, I would be taking my newborn baby on her first flight, by myself) my anxiety kicked in.
In the grand scheme of things I am a pretty laid back individual. I like to think I'm easy going, but also am well aware of the fact that I can become quite stressed out, and have struggled to deal with that stress in the past.
As I considered what this trip meant, I began to fear the worst; my baby would scream non-stop the entire flight, the person next to me would be insensitive about my breastfeeding in public and make a scene, Brooklyn would have a diaper blowout all over my lap, or better yet, she'd vomit all over my neighbour.
My level of stress grew exponentially the days leading up to the flight, until the day of, where I was the definition of a loose cannon. Funnily enough, my baby had ALSO become a loose cannon that week, spending 1-2 hours in the evening crying and even demonstrating her intense screaming power, before we would be able to calm her down enough to get her to sleep.
Racking our brains, we attributed these new 'meltdowns' to gas and colic. I cut dairy out of my diet and ensured that I was not ingesting any caffeinated beverages to try and help the problem.
The morning of my flight I finished my last minute packing (how does a 4 week old baby take up half of a large suitcase for a 5 day trip?) and tried to calm my nerves. I even got Chris to pick up Rescue Remedy, a natural product that is supposed to ease stress and calm you down. I don't really think it helped me much - but if it did I would be terrified to see myself without it.
Chris took us to the airport and I could hardly say a word, in fear that I would burst into tears. My throat felt swollen and I couldn't stop chewing my fingernails. When he left us at the security check gate, Brooklyn sleeping soundly in the baby Bjorn carrier, I couldn't stop the tears. Getting on this plane was the last thing I wanted to do. I wanted to run away, back to the safety of my home where I could nurse, and deal with my baby's meltdowns in privacy.
We loaded onto the plane at the pre-boarding call (one nice perk of flying with an infant) and I got settled into my seat. The person sitting next to me was a young woman, and she really didn't acknowledge us much at all - a good sign I figured. I unloaded Brooklyn from her carrier and set her up on the nursing pillow on my lap, prepared to nurse her during take-off to help alleviate the pressure buildup in her ears.
As the plane started down the runway Brooklyn remained dead to the world in slumber, and would not stir. I figured I would let her rest, and simply 'pop her on the boob' when she woke up and got cranky. Take off came and went and Brooklyn slept on.
I was able to relax slightly - 50% of the battle had been won, now we just needed to survive the landing and the rest would be manageable. Halfway through the flight Brooklyn woke up (barely) and had a little snack, before passing out again. Landing neared, and again I positioned Brooklyn in the nursing position, ready to go. But yet again, she amazed me, and slept soundly through the entire landing. She didn't wake when I buckled her back into her carrier and unloaded from the plane, nor did she wake when we met Nana (my Mom) at the luggage carousel. I finally woke her up to change her wet diaper and feed her before we started the drive home.
So, you could chalk the flight up to 100% success right? Well, not quite.....part way through the flight I was getting pretty warm where Brooklyn was laying against me, and felt damp with her sweat. When I repositioned her, I discovered that I had been leaking some milk. I guess 'some' would be an understatement; the milk from my right breast had soaked through the nursing pad, through my bra and all the way down my shirt. I think that's what you would call bad luck. Fortunately enough, my tank top was black and disguised the dampness quite well. I just had to walk around smelling sickly sweet and knowing I was soaked in my own breast milk. Honestly, I was hardly phased. How do you know you're a Mother? You can walk around covered in milk and decide that it's not really that important to change, because nobody can see it.
I was feeling pretty smug by the time we got to the car; thinking of how all of that stress and worry had been for nothing. As I climbed into the car with Brooklyn in my arms, I managed to clunk her head against the back of the driver's seat. As she wailed (out of shock more than pain, as she really only bumped the seat), all of my pent up emotions and lack of sleep came to the surface, and I broke down, crying twice as hard and three times as long as my baby girl.
Would I still consider the day a success? Sure. We managed to make it through our first solo flight with minimal speed bumps, and my child doesn't have brain damage. I still feel like the worst human being in the world thinking about it today.
Oddly enough, the day after our feared travel date, Brooklyn went to sleep without a peep at 11pm and slept for 6 hours straight. Go figure. Monster Mom = monster baby. Dually noted Brooklyn.
So what did I learn from this experience? Again, I really do not have control over anything. I was prepared as I could be, and really, just had to roll with whatever punches Brooklyn threw at me. As long as I did not forget my boobs (pretty much impossible I figure) I would be OK.
The return flight (which Chris and I took together), mimicked the initial flight, with Brooklyn sleeping through take-off and landing and waking briefly to eat halfway through - and I was prepared with extra nursing pads this time!
To say I was proud of my baby would be an understatement! Will I fly with her again? Yes of course, it's unavoidable where we live. Will I stress myself out leading up to the event? No. It helps no one (if anything, it made it worse for Brooklyn) and accomplishes nothing.
Take two deep breaths, and just enjoy the ride.
Brooklyn napping on her Dad.
" To him who is in fear, everything rustles" - Sophocles
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