Flying with an Infant is AMAZING

I woke up to Darian screaming in his bassinet next to me. After looking at the clock, I realize that he ate two hours ago. I can’t imagine him being THAT hungry. He has a wet diaper. Perhaps he’s upset about his diaper. I change it, and he’s still completely upset. He sounds a little scared. I decide to try feeding him to rule that one out. He doesn’t really eat. Hector is standing by the door now to see if I actually woke up or if Darian is crying for me. I’m awake. Really awake. I ask him to flip on the light. And there I see it. One of my hairs is rapped around his fingers. It takes me awhile to untangle it, but once it’s off, Darian immediately starts cooing. Coo, coo, coo. What a sweetie. I kiss him. Thank you for waking me up. Today’s an important day. We’re flying to Los Angeles.

 

Our bags are packed, and our house is clean. We sit on our couch relaxing and waiting for the Taxi when our friend Jen knocks on our door. She offers to give us a ride in her van. We cancel our Taxi and leave to the train station with her in a half an hour. It’s raining and is bitter cold. We get under a covering with all of our suitcases. Why does it smell like smoke? I swear the man next to us is hiding a cigarette. I couldn’t imagine though because it’s forbidden, and I’m holding Darian–a baby. An S-Bahn goes by, and I try to look in its reflection to see if the man is smoking. It doesn’t look like it. I push the idea out of my mind. Hector and I are getting really excited. I turn to see how much longer until the S-Bahn is coming, and the man next to me is blowing out smoke. I kindly ask him to not smoke by us but what I really want to say is: “Were you really trying to hide your cigarette, so you could smoke in front of a baby? Are you really that selfish?” He walks five steps away into the rain and tries to finish his tiny cigarette. This man looks 45. Since I’ve been pregnant, I have hated people who sit down next to me and start smoking on the platform, especially when I can’t get another seat. It’s so rude. I guess I’m spoiled to know smokers who are respectful of other people and BABIES. I wish I could hand out tickets for people smoking on the platform. I remind myself to relax. It’s a different mindset here. I mean smoking is allowed at Disneyland Paris. Why are these people so far behind? I try to let my upset feelings go, so I can be excited again. I ask hector to take a picture.

The train stop is right in the middle of the airport. We go up the elevator, and we’re here. I’m getting a little nervous. I remind myself that security can’t take Darian away and that it will go very smoothly. We left ourselves with plenty of time just in case Darian needs to nurse or poops up his back–he’s been saving up for 10 days now. There is a separate line for families with babies. No one is in it, so we go to the counter. The lady checks us in, and all of our bags are just below the max weight. We did it. We grab some lunch at McDonalds and go to the security check. There isn’t really a line. We go behind a couple with a two year old to give us enough time. It’s really easy to go through. After putting on my shoes, I wait for Hector. They have taken his passport and plane ticket and are swiping his bag for chemicals. He’s always racial profiled. He didn’t believe me when I told him, so I told him there would be a 100% chance that he’d be stopped through security. He laughs when it happens. The results are back, and we’re allowed to move forward. We walk a bit longer and get our passports checked by boarder control. There are posters up with pictures of terrorists. It looks like something that will show up in a history book later. Hector advises me against taking a picture. The boarder control man is very nice and friendly to Darian and I. He gives Darian a stamp in his passport. My working title allows me to go in and out of the country, so I don’t get a stamp. Hector is next. He doesn’t have a problem going through with his title either. We walk a bit farther and get our passports checked again. A man cuts us in line. I’m holding Darian to keep him asleep. The man must be really stressed to cut someone holding a baby… We get to our gate.

The time flies, and we’re invited to board first with our baby. Well, this is nice. We get on the plane and sit down in front of a wall area. There is plenty of leg room. We ordered a bassinet with our tickets when we booked with Lufthansa. That was one of our highest priorities. That and getting a direct flight. There are two babies to our left, and one two our right. I wonder how it’s going to work out if the other babies start crying. Darian is the youngest. The other two are older than 9 months.

I play with Darian. It’s almost time to take off, but Darian is already getting very hungry. He wants to eat now, but I really want him to wait 15 minutes, so he can nurse when we take off. That way his ears won’t hurt during the flight, and he won’t cry in pain. He is really hungry. I break up his drinking as much as I can, so right as we take off, he’s almost done. He drinks enough, and he’s very happy after we take off. And then I hear it. A huge fart–the kind he does when tons of poop comes out. I rip off his pants, unsnap his onesie, and pull it up. Of course, right when we take off and can’t get out of our seats. I put a newspaper on my lap and put my hand over the top of his diaper. Darian keeps farting/pooping. It’s starting to really smell. I’m a bit trapped in by the TV screen and bassinet. Lucky me. The fasten seat belt sign turns off. I hand Darian to Hector who takes him down stairs to be changed. Thank goodness we just upgraded to larger diapers. The puddle of poop remains in his diaper. A miracle.

I swaddle Darian, lie him on my legs, and bounce him. He’s getting very sleepy. He falls asleep while I read my book. After he’s out, we put him in his bed. This is nice. Really nice. I have so much leg room. The other babies are playing. The little girl next to us, Ella, is grabbing everything. I think it’s cute. The mother sort of does. Ella goes in her bassinet to play. She’s grabbing her feet. The mother jumps forward and sits her little girl up. She tries to put a bag under her mouth. There is throw up all over Ella’s clothes and face. It smells. The daddy takes the little girl and cleans her up. She comes back and starts playing again. What a happy baby. She throws up again. The kid to the far left is very whinny. He looks like he is almost two. Darian keeps sleeping. He keeps it up for most of the flight. The parents to our right are working hard the entire night. Their little boy won’t sleep. He keeps crying and fussing, which stirs Darian. Darian stays asleep but keeps shifting. I realize it’s true: the younger they are, the better. Everything is perfect. Darian is sleeping. There are tons of movies and leg space, but I have a really bad headache. The pain is getting so bad that I grab a barf bag. I’m focusing on not throwing up. Hector thankfully has Ibuprofen.

I get excited as we land. Darian ate 45 minutes before landing (no way I could delay that one), so I know he won’t nurse. I make him a bottle. As we land, he won’t drink that either. The drinking helps open his ears but maybe sucking on something will help. We give him his binky. He starts biting it. Perfect. The flight attendant sitting across the isle and through the opening is smiling and playing with Darian. Darian is as happy as can be. I get excited and tell Darian that this is where I’m from. We touch down smoothly. Darian’s seat belt is strapped to Hector’s seat belt. We wait for everyone to get off the plane, so we can be sure to gather all of our things. When we step out into the room where we go through boarder control, my mouth drops. There are hundreds of people waiting in the various lines. We get in a line. Darian wants to sleep but is having trouble because it is so bright. I walk around with him and count how many people are in front of us. 61. They are taking a minute and a half per person. I’m so disappointed. I want to see my family.

A police officer approaches us. He tells us that he will help us because we have an infant. The man in front of us with the Laker bag, Laker, purple pants, and shirt that says, “Get leid’ in honor,”with a Hawaiian women with her boobs hanging out on it tells the police officer that he has babies. We look to where he is looking. I see a 7 year old and a 9 year old. The police officer tells him that he’ll be back. He takes us to the front of the line where the flight attendants and pilots go through. The boarder control man is very grumpy and unhappy with us. I’m not sure what we’ve done. How are the Germans so much nicer? He lets us into the country. We get our suitcases, and we get in line to go through customs. I notice that the line raps around the entire baggage area. This is going to take an hour and a half at least. Why is it so slow? After waiting for 20 minutes, Darian starts to fuss. Is it time for him to eat? A police officer walks by. I tell her that my baby needs to nurse soon and ask if there is any way I can get through sooner. She puts us in front of the line. We leave immediately and go outside where my dad picks us up. It only took us an hour to get out. Hector informs me that Darian only ate an hour and a half ago. Honest mistake. We get in the car and drive home.

My mom gently pushes Darian and I in front of her as we approach the front door. Why is she acting so weird? I open the door, and all of our relatives in California are standing in a line. They are so happy to see Darian. They cheer. I take a breath so I don’t start crying. I get Darian out of his car seat and introduce him. Then I realize that I’m still holding him, so I hand him right over to the great-grandma. She holds her great-grandson for the first time. I start hugging everyone. Melissa and Melanie are crying, of course. 🙂 Darian is smiling. He goes from one person to the next. He can’t stop smiling until he pees. He shows me with his hands that he wants his diaper changed. He’s less upset because he communicates what is wrong. I change him quickly and give him back to my cousins. Everyone is so happy, especially Darian. Kelly, Haley, and Chelsea can’t keep their eyes off him. Kelly sits on my lap, and Darian sits on her lap. We’re so happy we’re here.