Flying with a baby

The last time I flew I was 5 months pregnant. All I had to think of back then was being careful of my bump and looking after myself. The time before that was with Xavi on a little trip to UK to go and get the restof my stuff to bring to Barcelona. All I had to think about that time was organising my crap as quick as possible so that we would have time free to do some sightseeing, have a few drinks, dinners out and have fun.

This time I flew with my little 8 month baby girl. There was a whole lot more to think of and very little of it was about me! It was all about her. Packing was an arse ache but I did it! Getting to the airport was made super easy as my dad gave us a lift there. I would really prefer to not think of how difficult the journey on the trains to the airport would have been with a baby in a sling, a backpack, shoulder bag and wheelie giant suitcase all alone!

Anyway, so my dad took us there, and helped me in with my bags. He took care of Emmeline while I got us checked in and then we stopped for a coffee where once again he took care of Emmeline while I went to the toilet etc. So far everything was going swimmingly! We then found ourselves at security. I had a backpack filled with liquids, all Emmeline’s! 1 bottle of her water (125ml), 1 bottle of milk (125ml), another bottle of milk (240ml), her Apiritol (baby paracetamol) and then my lip cream. Ordinarily all this should be in a clear plastic bag, divided into 100ml bottles blah blah blah blah! I didn’t bother doing any of this because I knew that Barcelona was a lot more relaxed, realistic and practical than other places. And as I thought, when the security man sitting at his little x-ray table saw my bag go through, he raised his head lazily and looked over. I pointed to Emmeline and raised my eyebrows as if to ask if it was a problem? He shook his head and motioned all in one go that it wasn’t a problem and that I could go through! Fantastic! What was not so fantastic is that even with a baby strapped to my chest, they still made me pull off my boots so they could check them. I gave them an incredulous look of ‘really? Seriously? Baby strapped to my chest so this is kind of awkward!’ My look had no effect whatsoever and so I dutifully removed my shoes. The problem was that on the other side my slip on shoes that slid on so easily at home seemed to get stuck! So there I was in front of a row of 5 bemused looking security guards bending over trying to put my shoes on with Emmeline looking like she was going to slip out of the sling at any minute! I hid my embarrassment by looking down and starting a deep conversation with Emmeline whilst doing what I should have done in the first place – walk over to the chair and sit down to put on my shoes!

Once I had successfully put my shoes back on, we had to walk a million miles to get to the check in gate. There was a queue already! Poo! I flashed my baby at the Ryan smelly bum Air check in ladies hoping that one of them would say ‘ooh, I see you are travelling alone with a small baby strapped to your chest! Would you like to board before the rest of the people in order to get yourself and your baby organised without being in anyone else’s way’. They didn’t! They simply took my ticket and moved on. Crap, I was at the end of the queue. Poo! Thankfully the flight was not totally full and we managed to get a seat towards the back and by the window. The air steward gave me the baby seat belt as we got into the plane and told me to ask if I need help. Help? How hard could it be? It was for me! But thankfully I had a helpful lady sitting in the same row as me who helped me to put on this little contraption around Emmeline! She very nicely left the middle seat empty allowing me to use that seat to leave Emmeline’s many things on it. She spoke to me for a few minutes whilst we were waiting to take off, she slept the whole journey, and then she stayed with me until almost everyone had gotten off the plane to see if I needed help with my bags! The perfect person to have next to you! I declined her offer of help and loaded myself up with bags and baby and was the last person off the plane! Although being the last person off the plane and into the bus somehow meant that I was the first one off at the other side and one of the first ones to get through the doors of arrivals!

Then came the return journey. Security at Edinburgh was quite different to security at Barcelona. At both airports I had 3 bottles for Emmeline in my bag - 2 with milk and 1 with water. I also had her medicine and lip cream. At Barcelona I left everything in my backpack all organised for the flight and had no problems at all. However at Edinburgh it was a different story. There I was with the same 3 bottles all in a plastic bag in my hand along with her medicine and my lip cream. I had to put the plastic bag through separately. I knew that they would be a bit more anal about everything! Once again I had to remove my shoes despite looking at the lady with a look of ‘Are you serious?’ Especially as I had seen that not everyone had been taking off their shoes! So why me? Why the lady with the baby still strapped to her chest? Once again I imagine that the fuchsia baby sling must have terrorist written all over it . . .

The bottles went through and I saw the lady rewind the conveyer belt to have another look and quickly look up. I wondered if her heart had started to beat a little quicker when she saw so many uncontrolled liquids. Did her pulse quicken? Was she thinking ‘ooh, we might have a situation here? A highlight of my day! I will have a great story to tell at the dinner table tonight’ I motioned to her that they were mine and that I first needed to put back on my terrorist looking shoes and then I would be over. I came over and said they were for Emmeline. I had already prepared myself for a fight in case they said anything about me not being able to take the bottles on. But no, no fight, instead she simply made me drink a little bit from each bottle. Ridiculous. Firstly, do I look like a suicide bomber? Perhaps the tiny baby would indicate that I am not? Secondly, if I was on a suicide mission, the ENTIRE world now knows that airports test liquid. Even tiny villages in the middle of Africa are probably aware of this fact. So, I would have to be a pretty stupid terrorist to try get through security with my little liquid explosions and if I decided to give this a go anyway, surely I could just as easily divide my liquid explosions into several 100ml shampoo bottles? Anyway, a bic pen can be equally dangerous in the wrong hands, so chill the hell out with the liquid obsessions for god’s sake! Ridiculous!

By the time this whole thing was finished and I had to walk another million miles through this airport boarding had started on my flight. Again I tried to flash my baby at smelly bum check in ladies and again this failed miserably. Should have flown sleazy jet, even though they steal from you at least they let you board first! In the end I was one of the last people to get on the plane. And it was a full flight! I found a seat but I could not sit down because I had my backpack under the seat in front of me and there was no space for my other bag because all the other stupid passengers had taken up all the space with all their stupid hard suitcases! So I tried to find a stewardess who of course was nowhere to be seen! And they hadn’t given me the seatbelt for Emmeline. I was boiling and ready for a fight. Not normal in me. So I held up everyone if my attempt to flag down someone. Eventually I did and told her that I needed help as my bag wouldn’t fit in the overhead locker. She very ‘helpfully’ told me to put it under my seat. Yes you total waste of space, I am aware that is an option, however I already have a bag there! So she put my bag on the other end of the plane. Hmm, thanks, now it will be so much fun to try and find my bag when we are in Barcelona! I looked down and the Spanish man sitting there had this look on his face of ‘oh great, I get stuck next to the lady and the baby’. He looked like he was trying to find a way to escape, but alas, there was none! I still had no baby seatbelt and was starting to get pissy. The stewardess´s took their time about giving it to me, and all appeared to have been sucking on lemons before we all boarded. A Scottish girl then sat next to me and although she was very nice, this did mean that I was crammed the entire flight in the smallest chair in the world with a baby on my lap who spent the first hour trying to grab everything of the Scottish girl she possibly could and kicking the Spanish man at every opportunity. Eventually Emmeline fell asleep and I spent the rest of the flight dying from thirst and hunger, supremely uncomfortable holding up my sleeping baby whilst my eyes were getting heavier and heavier and unable to do anything to relieve neither my thirst, hunger or uncomfortableness due to the sleeping baby on top of me, the fact that my bag was totally unreachable due to the fact that the seats in airplanes are not so small I feel like I am in a chicken coop and even if I had managed to get money, I would have to sell a kidney just to be able to afford to buy anything on their menu.

Even though Emmeline is a pretty chilled out baby who doesn’t cry much, flying with a baby is not easy! No one thinks to let you board first. It is not because I think we should get special treatment, but it is in everyone´s interest to let people with kids get on first. There are things to organise! I had to make sure that I had her bottle, I had her dummy, I had a little toy, that she was strapped in, that she wasn’t too warm or cold. It is not as easy as others who simply walk on, switch on their mp3 and switch off their mobile. If we are able to board first, we can choose the seats at the back out of the way or the seats with slightly more leg room so that the huge amount of stuff we need can be with us and not in the overhead lockers where we need to keep getting things. Letting us on first keeps us out of everyone else way, because I know that a lot of the other passengers don't have the patience for us. I used to be one of them! Boy did karma come back and bite me on the arse for that! I know how some people looked at me thinking 'oh no, screaming baby the whole flight!' The stewardess´s didn’t ask if I needed help with anything not even one single time. I remember a time when their job was to help, not to just stand there trying to sell overpriced water and fecking lottery tickets. They actually made my flight worse, not better. It never used to be like that. There were apparently baby changing facilities in the toilets. Thank god I didn’t have to use them! Just the thought of trying to squeeze out of the chairs with Emmeline in my arms sent shudders of fear through my spine, let alone thinking about the rest. It was stressful, but we made it! I would obviously do it again, but this time I would definitely pay the extra and get priority boarding! Just another thing that Ryan smelly bum air makes you pay for, a service that should really be free. I remember when it used to be free, travelling used to be a lot more enjoyable back then!