Forest's First Flight (Say that 3 times fast)

***Warning: This story will contain lots of graphic breast feeding terminology so if you’re not interested in those parts, skip over anything in italics. Sorry Dad!***

So we’ve been asked a lot how our trans-Atlantic flight went so I figured I would just tell the story here for the sake of efficiency. In the weeks leading up to the move I was MAJORLY stressed out, and I think a lot of it had to do with this crazy-long flight looming over my head. My mind was racing with questions. Should we bring his car seat on the plane? Should I bring powdered or ready-feed formula? How many bottles should I pack? Diapers? Change of clothes? 

In the end, I worried about all the wrong things. Bringing pre-made formula and pre-pumped breastmilk on the plane was a breeze, and we weren't asked to sample any of it. People were super patient and helpful as we passed our car seat and stroller through security, and though we both agreed that toting him in the ergo on layovers would’ve been easier (esp since we had to check our stroller in the Paris airport and therefore carry his super heavy Graco car seat through customs in San Fran.), we were definitely glad to have his car seat on the plane. Napping on the plane was spotty at best, but without his own space in his own seat, I’m not sure he would have napped at all. 

Jonathan agreed to take care of our 9 items of luggage (true story) as long as I was responsible for Forest.  Fortunately, Jon’s company paid for all three of us to fly business class which made things much more comfortable. On the first flight (a small regional plane) from Aberdeen to Paris, Jon switched seats with the person in front of Forest since his car seat prevented that seat from reclining at all. 

I was nervous about take off and landing, but gave Forest a bottle on the take-off and he fell asleep shortly after and didn’t wake up until after we had landed in Paris. Easy breezy. People were commenting on what a great little traveler he was and I was crossing my fingers that his good behavior would continue on our 12 hour flight (!!!) to California. 

We had just enough time on our layover to grab a snack and do a diaper change before boarding the long-haul flight. My plan for feeding on the flight was to alternate nursing with giving bottles of formula. 

I asked the flight attendants if I could nurse while the plane was taking off from Paris and they said yes but I had to have him strapped into an extended seat belt that attached to mine. The configuration of this made nursing impossible so I wish I just would have left him in his car seat and given him a bottle. Luckily, sucking on a pacifier was enough to keep him satisfied so I’m guessing his ears weren’t giving him any trouble. 

By the time the seat belts signs went off, I felt like I was bursting and needed to nurse immediately. The only problem was that Forest was flat out refusing to nurse. Any attempt I made elicited screams from him which was eliciting stink-eyes from the other business class patrons. I relented and figured I’d try again later once he was a bit more calm. 

Our strategy for napping was to help him get as much sleep as possible at the front end of the flight so that he’d be rested enough to make it to a 7 pm California bedtime. We were facing an 8 hour time difference for Jet Lag and wanted a head start, so we gave him a bit of Tylenol to help him doze. He gave us about a 2.5 hour nap which was pretty decent! I even got to watch a movie. Woohoo! 

When he woke up I was kind of grateful because I definitely needed his help in the breast feeding department. I was starting to get really uncomfortable and since I had checked my breast pump with our luggage, I was relying on baby boy’s assistance. Once again- he adamantly refused to help a mother out. He was screaming and thrashing and wiggling away, so I sighed and gave him another bottle and prayed that in a few hours he’d be ready to give nursing a go. When it was time for him to eat again, I took him in the bathroom to hopefully provide a calmer atmosphere but that didn’t help one smidge. 

I was starting to panic and at this point was in quite a lot of pain. Sensing my distress, Jonathan said ‘Just go in the bathroom and hand express’. First off, the fact that my husband knew the term ‘hand express’ was shocking, especially since I had to meekly respond to him, ‘but I don’t know how to do that and my google won’t work on the plane.’ 

I went to the bathroom to give it my best shot and got nothing. I knew that for my let down response to happen I had to be relaxed and there was nothing LESS relaxing than try to hand pump in an air plane bathroom. After 5 minutes I returned to my seat ‘empty-handed’.  

At this point, Jon had gotten Forest down for a nap (no small feat) and I informed him I needed to wake Forest up to nurse. He basically gave me a look that said ‘over my dead body’, but I reached for the baby anyway. 

Forest was very unhappy at being disturbed from his nap and was especially unhappy when I tried to thrust my boob in his face. Jonathan was equally unhappy and was visibly shaking with anger.  I had heard that a crying baby can help with let down so I toted my shrieking baby into the bathroom and placed him on the changing table to give hand expressing another go. Finally, I was able to get some relief but it took about 15 minutes to get to the point where I wasn’t painfully uncomfortable anymore. 

I kept expecting an Air Marshall to come knock on the door and suspect me of some sort of terrorism. Mind you, the entire time this is going on, Forest is hysterically crying…When I left the toilet there was a line of 3 people looking mighty perturbed but I was very relieved! And seriously, Air France, 1 bathroom for all of business class???

Unfortunately, we weren’t able to get Forest down for a nap again until just before landing and he was quite annoyed and fussy by the end of the flight. He held it together fairly well until we landed and he was woken up from yet another nap. At this point it was 10 pm Aberdeen time so he was way past his bedtime. He cried the entire time we were going through passport control and customs. 

When we went through border control, the agent handed us back our passports without any stamps. Jonathan asked if he would please stamp Forest’s passport since it was his first time to the U.S.A. What a sweet daddy!  

While we waited for all of our many bags to arrive, I grabbed my pump and headed to the bathroom where I pumped 10 ounces. 10 ounces! You know that had to hurt!  

We spent another hour getting set up with a rental car and then an additional hour driving to our temporary digs in San Ramon. We were starving so had to stop and pick up food on the way in. What was our first meal back Stateside, you ask? Burger King. How lame is that??? We are more than a week in at this point and I still haven’t eaten Wendy’s! True story...

Sorry, I know this post ended up being more about my breastfeeding woes than Forest’s flight experience. But the truth is, he was a great traveler. He was fussy at times, but I take the blame for most of that. Most of the passengers around us commented that he didn’t bother them at all. I think it being a day-time flight helped with their patience as no one was really trying to get a good night’s sleep out of it. 

And after such a long journey,  I find that very little scares me with Forest anymore. I’ve been much more comfortable going on outings with him and know that if he cries in public, it is not the end of the world. Ditto if he's a bit late on his naptimes. 

After a week and a half of being here in Cali, we are finally over the worst of his jet lag. You know....just in time for daylight savings time. Oy vey! More on that challenge later…

If you have any questions about traveling internationally with a babe, I’m happy to answer them!

P.S. The irony is that we had started to make the switch to formula a few weeks before the flight, but everyone advised me that it would be more convenient to nurse on the plane than give bottles so I decided to continue breastfeeding until after we arrived in California. When I was in the airplane bathroom, hand pumping into the tiny sink with a screeching 4 month old right next to me, the word 'convenient' didn't come to mind...