Tales From a First Time Flying Parent

Moving to Madison over four years ago was one of the most challenging, but exciting things that I  thought I would be taking on in life. That was until my husband and I decided to embark on a transatlantic trip with our three month old baby to meet our family across the pond.

We managed to make the journey from Madison to Chicago O’Hare without forgetting passports, underwear, or the baby. Maybe this wasn’t going to be so bad?

We had spent the days leading up to flying realizing, then frantically scrambling to buy an infant ticket for the baby. “Children under two fly free” you hear people say. Not on certain international flights we found out after innocently calling the airline to reserve a bassinet on the flight. Oh my, thank goodness we found that out before rocking up to board the plane. Our bank balance might not agree.

So there we were checking in, proud of ourselves for being in possession of an infant ticket. Check-in happened smoothly, our next task was to feed the baby before we piled through security. Simple you say? We look around and then ask a lady at the information desk if they have a place to nurse the baby. She looks at us as though we have asked her for a place to pull down our pants in public. Without meeting our eyes, she mumbles something about a Family Bathroom. After closer inspection, this is a great place to take your toddler to be changed, not so much to breastfeed. We wander up and down to try to find a place that had some seating, meanwhile the baby is ramping up her protest in having to wait. In the end we opted to nurse in between some honeymooners and a family with a very curious toddler.

With the baby somewhat placated for now, we join the queue for security. As we are standing there I realize we are now the family you avoid standing behind in order to avoid waiting too long. We piled the stroller, car seat, hand luggage, coats, belts, laptop and shoes onto the conveyor. After stripping off and keeping the surging crowd behind us from adding their paraphernalia to ours, we lock eyes to make sure one of us still has the baby. Check.

We are about to launch through the scanner when the helpful lady asks us if we have liquids in our bags. Wipes she says are classed as liquids. Consequently, I see my husband dive head first into my carry-on, as I direct him to the many pockets where I have stashed emergency wipes. He makes it out alive and we hustle through the other side. Of course, my bag is chosen for a random extra security check. By this time, my husband and I are trying to repack and redress ourselves while trying to dance around with the baby. Did we have both shoes on? Perhaps. Did we need a stiff drink? Definitely.

Luckily, the baby slept through the entire flight and on arrival, Heathrow had a private Baby Care room, complete with music and a rocker to nurse in. I nearly joined Twitter to thank them. Was it all worth it? Absolutely. What did we learn? Keep wipes all in one, accessible place. You can wear babies in a front pack through the scanners (who knew?!) Baby jet lag is hard.