Karsten showing off his pouty lips!
I haven't been a mother for long, but I have learned some valuable lessons. A lot of people will tell you that traveling (by which I mean air travel) with an infant is traumatic. They are not lying, but they are exaggerating. As a country, we have seen some severe trauma inflected in the Northeast and the state of Texas. From that trauma, those scary scenes and changed lives, came a very beautiful thing - the kindness of human nature. Whomever teaches that human kind is evil by conception is very diluted. And God has literally placed in front of me amazing examples of the loving hearts of strangers.
I was beside myself as a 14 week old Karsten and I made our way to the airport with three bags of luggage. Eric left for a week to go surfing so the little dude and I made our way to Washington to see family and friends (and seek solace and sleep!)
We arrived at the airport 4 hours prior to takeoff. Everything was okay- I got a beer and some barbeque and relaxed with Karsten for an hour. Then the fun began. Karsten was really sick, and had been on a nebulizer for three days. I had to give him treatments every four hours, and the timing landed perfectly in the middle of our terminal stay. The screaming baby and I hogged the handicapped bathroom for 30 minutes while I held the little turtle-mask on his face.
When Alaska Airlines called for "those traveling with infants or who need assistance" to board, Karsten and I made our frazzled way to the plane entrance. In front of us stood an old man and a little boy. The boy boarded the plane with the airline attendant and yelled "Bye bye grandpa! Love you!" to the old man. The old man proceeded to cry, wave and walk off. Wow, that was sad. I start tearing up, but I hold it together. Well...I held it together until we walked down the little make-shift hallway to the plane. I had a gigantic carry-on bag, a screaming (sick) baby, a stroller and a carseat. Help. I looked at Karsten, who was bawling, and started bawling right back at him. A woman grabbed my shoulder and said "No, no honey, please don't cry! You're going to make me cry. Let me take this. You take your baby and sit down." This woman folded my stroller, gave the carseat to the flight attendants and carried my obscenely obtuse bag to my seat. Karsten and I were seated in the last row of the plane...right next to the woman who was helping me. Her two 6 and 8 year old boys sat in the row in front of us. I was still teary-eyed when she started tearing up.
"I know how hard it is to travel with children alone. My husband passed away in Afghanistan a few years back and left me with the boys. My fiance is currently overseas and is being transferred to Texas from Fort Lewis. I've been traveling along with my boys for a long time. No one ever helped me- especially women. They looked at me like I should be doing better, like they had everything together and I should too. I don't ever want someone to struggle like I did."
I didn't know what to say. Thank you? That didn't seem good enough. She asked to hold Karsten, and I gladly handed him over (he looooves strangers!). The rest of the flight, after the takeoff, was amazing. The flight attendants, instead of glaring at me when Karsten cried, came over to offer a comforting word or to hold him. They heated up his bottle, no problem. And carried out my bag and stroller for me.
It was hard, but I felt guilty for feeling sorry for myself. I might have been alone at the time, but I was surrounded by the most caring people I've ever randomly come across.
Day One ended with my parents picking Karsten and I up, and I will tell you all about the week at home in the next post ;)
