First, this story is not for the squeamish. Also, if you are about to fly for the first time with a baby, you may want to pretend you didn’t see this one and then read it when you get home.
Well, we just got back from a great trip to Sedona, Arizona, where we all had a blast hiking, swimming and sightseeing. Baby MB had a blast making friends with any nice looking strangers at restaurants and learning to crawl. Yes, the trip was amazing. Just the right amount of fun and relaxation and no major problems on the plane over. Our son slept very well in the provided crib. We even began thinking of taking another short trip before I head back to work in September.
“We’re so glad we did this!” We said as we packed the car to head home. We congratulated ourselves on our excellent planning skills, our packing ability and even our choice of restaurants. Yes, we got cocky. And as always, when you get a bit too full of yourself, life has a way of putting you back in your place.
The day of the flight started out fine. The sun was shining, the scenery was even more beautiful than usual and the baby was smiling a beautiful, drooly grin. It was like the first 10 minutes of a horror movie – you know, before all the bad stuff goes down? It’s the moment where you want to yell, “Don’t go in there! It’s haunted/full of serial killers! No, don’t run to the attic! Run DOWN the stairs, DOWN!”
I started to feel nauseous on the 2 hour drive to the airport, but put it down to not eating a proper breakfast that morning. By the time we returned the car and got into the security line, I was worried about passing out. I was pale, shaky and dripping with sweat. I thought for sure that they would pull me aside for extra screening, like an episode of Border Security. Luckily, I was travelling with a baby, so apparently this look was pretty standard.
I ate a bagel, and things seemed slightly better. We got on the plane. I fed the baby during take-off and he fell asleep. Amazing! And then it happened. I suddenly felt unbearably nauseous. For the first time in my life, I barfed on an air plane. I was embarrassed, but that was not the end of it.
About 15 minutes later, I looked over at my husband, and he was the worst shade of gray-green. That’s when it hit me – we had food poisoning. On an air plane. With a baby. On a four hour flight.
I will spare you most of the details, but I will say that we alternated trying to entertain the baby with trying to curl in the fetal position, while searching for more air sickness bags. Also, the seatbelt sign was on for nearly the whole flight, we were on the inside two seats and the only two things that entertained the baby were bouncing on my stomach and grabbing the people in the seats around us.
So, yeah, it was the worst flight we’ve ever had. The WORST. And 3 days later, we are only just starting to feel better. The one good thing about the whole scenario, is that Baby MB is fine.
So, my friends, if you are getting ready to fly with the baby, just remember: It can’t get worse than this! (Probably. I mean, no promises.) Oh, and check the air sickness bags when you get on board…just in case.