Fear of Flying
(aka Travelling with Child)
by Bernadette Noll |
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The first time I flew with my daughter, Lucy, she was only three weeks
old. My husband couldn't accompany us because of work obligations so we
flew solo. It was a sudden trip which, in retrospect, was quite
fortuitous. Even though I was still a preemie as far as parenting went,
I didn't have time to second guess going it alone.
Had I had too much
time to think about it, I just may have backed out. We have flown several times since in her mere six
months of life and have come to realize that with a little plotting and
some careful packing, it's pie in the sky.
Curb side check-in gives you a good excuse to make out in front of the airport.
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In considering what was essential for such a sojourn I realized three
things:
1) I would need to travel light because my carry-ons were
instantly increased by the poundage of my daughter.
2) I would need to
pack for the unexpected: delays, cancellations, stopovers, etc.
3) And I
would need to pack in a way that would give me at least one free hand.
I had learned, in only three weeks of motherhood, that not only did
parenthood entail doing more than before, it demanded that it all be
done one handed. While I was not quite expert at this, this trip saw me quickly become adept.
The spare hand was granted by way of a diaper bag big enough to hold
her stuff and mine and — an absolute must — sporting a shoulder strap. In
addition to the usual array of baby demands, traveling would require
surplus supplies. Plastic grocery bags would guarantee that I had a
disposal system no matter where I ended up changing her. An extra
changing pad and several extra diapers would hold us in case of
unscheduled layovers. I quickly learned that one cannot be too cautious
when determining the number of diapers needed. A schedule delay on our
first flight nearly ate up the allotted extras and by flight's end I was
carefully rationing those remaining. I now pack twice as many as I
think I might need.
I threw in two complete extra outfits and a couple
extra undershirts. One too many leaky diapers and no extra clothes
could make for a very unpleasant day indeed, for me, for my girl, and
for everyone around us. I packed two blankets — one for over her and
one for under her when I had to lay her down on a seat. Last, but
certainly not least, I threw in a couple of toys: rattles, mirrors and
other accoutrement. The bag was a bit on the heavy side but I was
flying under my mom's hard rule of "better to have it and not need
it than to need it and not have it".
For transport throughout the airport and onto the plane, a pack proved
indispensable. As a newborn, I used a front carrier and as she got
bigger I switched to a backpack. Wearing her instead of carrying or
strolling her allowed me free range motion and easy navigation wherever
we went and whatever we did: going to the bathroom, accessing my ID,
handing over my boarding pass, eating a meal, drinking my coffee, etc.
Steering a stroller can be somewhat cumbersome in the crowded confines
and tight aisles of the airport and plane, not to mention it can cause nasty bruises on fellow passengers, causing
even nastier stares. Not only did I want it to look easy, I
wanted it to actually be easy. And with a pack, it was.
Once the diaper bag was loaded, I put Lucy
into the pack for a trial walk around the yard. I felt somewhat silly
doing a trial run, but in the long run it saved me immeasurable time and
discomfort. In this run I realized that the beads I wore on my neck
were great entertainment for her in her pack. Now I make sure to wear
some kind of bauble, beads, or scarf, not necessarily as accessory, but as
play thing for her.
Flying definitely
dehydrates. I packed a bottle of water for me and Lucy. Flying and breast feeding were sure to leave me completely
depleted if my liquids were not replenished. I planned to feed her
during take-off and landing to prevent the painful popping of ears which
is an ever present fear and the cause of tears in so many traveling
kids. Her bottle of water was a back-up in case she wouldn't eat.
My husband drove us to the airport and checked us in at the curb. We
surrendered a romantic farewell at the gate for the
convenience of curb side check-in. This practice costs a few bucks per
bag but is absolutely priceless for expediting check-in. And besides
that, it gives you a good excuse to make out in front of the airport.
One woman actually "ahhed" us lovingly when she saw us making out at the
curb with our girl looking over my shoulder from the vantage point of
her backpack. I don't know if we'd get that same response without the
baby, but we'll certainly be willing to do a little research on that in
the future.
With a child in tow, experiencing the ease of e-ticketing or ticketless
travel is an absolute must. All I needed was my photo ID
which I had to show anyway. It seemed strange the first time I went
ticketless but it gives such freedom. Never again will I feel that fear
one gets when groping in search of that ever elusive ticket.
The first time we flew I found myself strutting so self sufficiently to
our gate I felt like mother superior herself. With my babe in her pack
and the diaper bag over my shoulder, I had not one, but both hands free!
I celebrated this with a coffee and a muffin — simultaneously holding my
girl, paying the cashier, and toasting myself at my success.
Preboarding was a perk to travelling with child I had not thought of prior
to arrival at the gate. I had always enviously eyed those who stood up when
that first call went out. For the first time in my life I was part of
this elite assemblage! What a treat to board the plane without being
bonked on the bean as those around you attempt to cram their
oversized carry-ons in the overhead bins. What a delight to strut in a
steady stride without encountering an abundance of bags, legs, and
other blockades protruding into the aisle. And what an advantage for
me, the mom, to not have to encounter the insolent stares which greet
every baby boarding a plane. I'm told by a mom of a two-year-old that
pre-boarding with a toddler is not always so wise. It's better to wait
until the last moment so as to shorten the amount of
time on board as much as possible. I've filed this information away for next year's
travels.
One of our layovers left us staying over a whole lot longer than
planned. Because I was breast feeding, this was not too much of a
problem but made me realize that future trips would require baby food
rations. At customer service I requested some compensation for the
delay and was given a $15 food voucher to be used anywhere in the
airport. It was a sympathy voucher but I certainly
wasn't going to let pride get in the way of a free meal. It didn't take
too many days of parenthood to realize that it is just as important for
me to be fed as it is for my girl. There's nothing like a snack and a cold
beer to alleviate low blood sugar and ease stress.
One discovery I made is that many airport facilities are designed with
families in mind. I was baffled by one place that didn't even seem to
have changing tables and was pointed to a "family comfort station." It
was a private room complete with a rocking chair, a changing table, a
sink, a single bathroom, and even a diaper vending machine. Lucy and I
both appreciated the few minutes of downtime this privacy allowed.
On one flight I was disheartened to see that we were seated in a full
row of three. As we neared departure I asked the flight attendant about
an empty seat in the back of the plane. She was more than happy to help
us move, but not nearly as happy and helpful as the two people sharing
our row. On another leg I was in the bulkhead as requested. This was
good and bad. The extra legroom was nice but the attached trays made
eating with Lucy on my lap next to impossible. I now always ask about
seat availability.
Now at six months Lucy has racked up quite a few miles. She is such a
good traveler as to evoke praise — or at least sighs of relief — from
fellow passengers at the end of each flight. With a little bit of
planning we've managed to squelch some of those insolent stares and
forever forestall our fear of flying with a child. It's a good thing,
too, because our other option is to drive from Texas to New Jersey in a
pick up truck. Maybe Lucy knows that.
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Bernadette Noll lives in Austin, Texas.
© 1998 Tripod, Inc. All Rights Reserved.
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