Unexpectedly, two weeks postpartum I was ready to venture out into the world with my daughter. I asked my husband to give me a tutorial on how to use the pram and car seat, and set off to take my 14-day-old new born on our first trip alone together. I took her to my old workplace, which is one hours round trip, and all went surprisingly well. When I returned home I said to my daughter, “We can do this!”, and in the weeks that followed we went out in the car nearly every single day.
Then it got me thinking, if it’s easier to take her out and about than I initially anticipated, maybe air travel wouldn’t be so bad either. With Christmas coming up, it would be a perfect time to take Olivia to meet my mum. I discussed it with my husband, got Olivia her first ever passport (so cute!), and a few weeks later, off we went!
Getting through security was no more stressful than usual. Now we can relax, I thought. Then, poonami struck! Complete outfit change necessary just before we had to board our plane. We got her fresh and ready for the flight just in time and put her dirty clothes in a nappy bag.
Getting on the plane was nice and easy. Now came the part I’d been most worried about, the actual flight. I fed Olivia on take off to help her ears with the pressure, and watched her nervously as the plane ascended into the air thinking it might make her uncomfortable. Looking down, I saw the most contented little baby feeding away, totally oblivious that we were leaving the country! She then fell asleep and continued sleeping for the entire flight. I fed her for landing too, then that was it – we’d arrived on UK soil!
At security we went in the fast track lane for families (didn’t know these existed) and skipped all the queues. We were called to a desk of a rather intimidating border security officer. He looked at Olivia’s passport and asked how old she is. “She’s three months” I replied. In a thick Glaswegian accent the officer responded, “I’ve got food in the fridge that’s older than that!”. Thinking he’d need to see her face, I turned her to show him, and with a beaming smile he said, “Hello sweetie pie!”. Not so scary after all.
And that was it! Our first flight with our baby completed. Overall it went smoothly. We did have one causality from our journey though. Remember that nappy bag with Olivia’s outfit in? My husband thought it was a dirty nappy and threw it in the bin. Next time I won’t bother with the airport chic for baby.
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Content retrieved from: https://maltamamadiaries.wordpress.com/2024/01/14/olivias-first-flight-at-12-weeks-old/.
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