Wow, people have been telling me for a month now, or very nearly, that I'm INSANE to take a newborn who's barely 4 weeks old onto an airplane. Yeah, I know. When we first planned the trip, I thought, like B did, that DJ would show up early. Yeah, not so much. So really, he would have been closer to 6 weeks rather than barely 4. What can you do, really? The best that you can is all.
So, with some trepidation, we made our way to the airport. DJ was up early, looking for a feeding at six am. And then didn't really want to sleep after that. Not shocking really. So, once I got him together, I woke up B and got ready myself. We managed to get out of the house before 8 am, which was our initial plan. The only thing we forgot was the third swaddle sack that I was planning to use on the plane (figuring it would be cold). (Technically, that was B's fault. I reminded him to pick it up and he left it.) Oh well, that's a pretty good record for us.
So we drove to the airport and parked. DJ was half asleep for most of the car ride, though he was a bit fussy right at the beginning. He hates the infant carrier. The side impact head gear bothers him because he can't turn his head from side to side. You know how he likes to look around. Well, we get to the economy lot and I pull him out of the car seat, waking him up, naturally. There's a lot of sun and quite a bit of wind. So I block what wind I can and wrap up the baby. He tolerates it well enough.
We get on the bus and people just coo at him. I hate taking him in public and covering him up because I LOVE the attention. Yeah, they are really just looking at him, and it doesn't matter how busted I look, but still. He's my baby. I made him. And he's beautiful. I am just so proud of him. He's wide-eyed as usual, and people just go crazy for him.
We get to the terminal and check in. At the desk they tell us I could have brought a stroller and checked it at the gate. Damn. I didn't know that. I carried the baby the whole time. Curses. Live and learn I suppose. Braden and I shuffle him back and forth. I'd use my sling but it's not as comfortable as thought it would be and it won't be comfortable under the backpack. My back pack is HUGE and heavy. I've decided I need a different approach to that. I could rock the sling if I had something that rolled. I need a proper carry on bag now that we have a single good piece of luggage. Yeah, just the one and it's checked baggage size. It's great though. It fit stuff for all three of us, including 3 outfits per day for DJ.
So we finish with check in and head over to security. The line is a little long but it's not the hour and change fiasco I was expecting. That's comforting because this kid got HEAVY. I start thinking I made a terrible mistake going without a stroller. And then this woman with her 2 kids and infant carrier/stroller has to disassemble the whole thing with baby in hand to put it through security. Oh damn. Maybe I did right after all.
We get through security and head over to the terminal. DJ is asleep right up until I order my breakfast at a restaurant in the terminal. Then he's hungry. I break out my nursing wrap and feed the kid. It's not terribly comfortable, because I don't have nearly enough things to cram under my arm. This is a situation I need to think more about. What can I carry with me to make breastfeeding in public easier on my arms? Oh well. I feed him but he's not done by the time we're done with breakfast. So I put the first boob away and shuffle him out of the restaurant as quick as I can. B follows us with the diaper bag and carry on items. I find a corner in the gate waiting area and feed DJ the other boob. Finally he's satiated. But then his butt explodes. I get B to hold him till I can go pee and then come back to change him. For some reason beyond reckoning, the builders of the airport didn't think to put changing tables in the ladies bathroom. Bastards. I use my changing pad and built in changing area in my diaper bag to change DJ on the floor. Ye gods. People around us laugh, but not in a mean spirited way. One guy comments that this is the way it is as a parent. Sometimes you've just got to deal with these kinds of things.
Finally, we get settled, though they've already started boarding. We never hear them board disabled people or those traveling with small children, but we go ahead and board anyway. Once on the plane, things are good. We settle into our seats easily. B is sleep deprived, again, and is a little grumpy. Getting the bags and my breakfast leftovers straight is a bit of a challenge but we manage. Once settled, we wait for take off. I have one strap of my nursing bra unhooked in preparation for a quick boob dismount in case of sudden crying due to ear pressure. He's fine.
Later, I feed him on his normal schedule. The flight is quiet. We only get drinks, no snacks and the selection available for purchase is pathetic. B and I both get a little napping in, though be is rather annoyed by my incessant requests for assistance. One arm always has a baby in it. Kind of hard to do anything on plane.
Everything is peachy until landing. I know we're descending because DJ wakes up with a start and begins wailing. This is the reaction I was expecting on take off. That's OK. I have one over full boob ready for the nursing. He takes it down and still wants more. Unfortunately, I'm tapped out and we haven't landed yet. So I give him the knuckle of my pinkie. He likes that. Unfortunately, I can feel a bruise forming from the suction. So I switch fingers. That works until we get out of the plane. Then he's fussy all over again. We march to baggage claim and I bounce him around the carousel until he finally goes to sleep. Yay!
All in all, I'd say that worked brilliantly!
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