Flying with a baby

We were invited to a friend's wedding in Spain.  Ron was very pregnant when we were invited and we immediately thought that we wouldn't be attending.  It was a shame.  Good friends were getting married and we both would have loved to have gone.  I hadn't been to Spain in ten years and Ron had great memories of the place from traveling at university. Our assumption was that any long haul travel with a baby would be too difficult too fathom. We dismissed the idea of attending fairly quickly as nonsense and unpractical given the big changes that we would be facing soon.

Yet strangely, the idea kept popping up.

At catch ups with friends with kids, any discussion of travel didn't come with the expected warnings, but instead with encouragement.  When we mentioned how we would have loved to have gone to the wedding, many of our closer friends were even quicker to respond that we should go.  Their reasons were compelling as well.  The flights would be cheaper whilst the child was young.  At a young age, the baby wouldn't be moving around much and would be sleeping anyway.  Since we would be going long haul, there would be no real issue with jet lag for the baby given they were asleep more than they were awake.

We started to think about it.  Why not?  Sure, it may be a bit difficult, but wouldn't the additional stress and hassle be only a bit more incremental to what we would already be facing as new parents?  First, we had to have the child.  As that whirlwind of change occurred, the initial weeks passed quickly.  I decided to book the tickets and all the accommodation just in case we decided we were to go.  At worst, I could cancel at only a small cost.

A month went by.  We were getting used to our new friend.  We thought about it a bit more and decided we would embark on this new adventure.  We were tired from all the change, but we thought about it more and we thought the trip would do us good.  Ron was still on her maternity leave, I needed to take some block leave.  It seemed like a good excuse for us to spend some extra time together as a new family.  Everything was already booked and ready.  We just needed to get our logistics arranged for the travel.  When I had time over the next few weeks, I began buying things I thought I needed and reading up on how to approach traveling with a new born.  

The day of our trip arrived.  I was a bit nervous.  I didn't think that being in Spain would be too difficult.  After all, with our preparations and what we were bringing, it would surely be just be doing everything we were doing at home, just in a different location?  What made me more nervous was the flying.  We were flying Qatar Airways over to Madrid, so it would be two long haul flights with a short stop over before we arrived.  The plane logistics were daunting to the uninitiated like myself.  How would I deal with the feeding, the changing, the crying?  What would happen if I couldn't settle him or if there were some other disaster which I wasn't able to avoid?  Most of all, I also felt bad about the potential disruption to the sleep and rest of other passengers.

The taxi arrived to take us to the airport.  Immediately things felt different, with the luggage alone being double what I was used to.  In addition to our usual bags, we had an extra baby bag for the flight, my usual hand carry full of more things for the baby, and the stroller.  It made travelling together feel necessary just in order to have enough hands to manage everything.  

At the airport, everything was smooth.  We were fortunate to be flying more comfortably, but even if that wasn't the case it seemed that everything was set up to help people flying with children.  The staff at the desks were well trained in how to treat us.  Dealing with the stroller wasn't an issue at all, and we were given the option of having it checked there and then or at the gate.  We decided to check at the gate so we would be able to move around the airport more easily.  Once we were checked in, we had to go through security and immigration.  This was again a simple process and we were led to a dedicated priority line for people traveling with children.  Within a short time, we were sitting in the lounge drinking champagne whilst baby drank his milk.

Boarding the plane was also straight forward.  Again, flying in a more comfortable class helped the whole situation, but we would have been allowed to board first with a baby in any event.  Once on the plane, we settled into our seats and got ourselves ready for the next few hours.  On the advice of our friends, we had prepared a bottle of milk in the lounge for the take off.  Once the plane lifted off the ground, I immediately started to feed the baby.  We had been advised that feeding during take off and landing would ensure his ears would pop and it seemed to work perfectly.

Comfortably seated on the plane, we were treated well by the cabin crew.  They all seemed to be enthralled by how small the baby was.  Seeing babies traveling was probably nothing out of the ordinary, but they all fretted over him.  I guessed that it was probably a small break for the usual day to day tasks.  The plane wasn't full which was good.  When we asked for the bassinet to be set up, the purser very kindly noted to us that it wasn't a full flight and so she offered instead to set up one of the seats so that baby could sleep more comfortably.

It was a surreal thing to see baby tucked in and asleep on his own lie flight bed on his very first flight. This was a level of luxury and indulgence beyond what I had imagined or even considered.  It had taken me a long time to get to this point in my life where I was able to fly so comfortably.  For baby to jump straight into this seemed like it could cause some issues down the road. Would he grow up spoiled?  Would this impact his drive and motivation in life? Would he lack the necessary toughness needed to succeed later on?  It was something to consider, but for now I was happy to take this as a win.  He was sleeping comfortably and wasn't making a noise.

We arrived at our first stop and went straight to the lounge.  We didn't have a direct flight to Spain, and with a baby, this turned out to be a bit of a blessing.  The brief stop meant that we were able to recollect ourselves and also help prepare baby for the final leg of the journey.  We went to a baby room where we changed baby again, gave him a wipe down and freshen up, and cleaned all of the bottles and accessories that had been used on the plane.  Recharged and ready, we went back for the last flight that would take us to Spain.

The final flight wasn't too long.  We were able to relax, with baby between us and the flight crew once again being incredibly kind and helpful to us.  Everyone wanted to come to see the baby.  They cooed over him, tried to entertain him and were generally just enamoured.  It made for another easier flight for us.  Any time I needed help with anything, they would come racing.  They would drop whatever task or request they were managing and immediately come to our aid or assistance.

So flying with the baby was far easier than I expected.  We certainly had a smoother ride with our approach to flying and travel, but we were also very lucky to have a very chilled out baby.  Nothing seemed to upset or annoy him too much.  If anything, he seemed to sleep better than normal and enjoyed all the attention from the flight attendants.  I thought more about the whole experience.  

What were my observations about what had gone right and what had gone wrong?  There was a list of things that I would do again.

1. Preparation - unsurprisingly, preparing early took away most of the concern.  I had all the bottles, the formula, the diapers, the wipes ready in the baby bag.  I had backups waiting in other bags just in case we needed more.  Beyond that, I also planned out the timing of feeding, cleaning and also where I expected to be at different times during the journey.  It seemed to me to be the perfect situation to "front load" the stress to the planning period so that the journey itself would be stress free.

2. Supplies - it would seem like an obvious thing to do, but having the right supplies to deal with the babies needs are essential for the flight.  Nappies, formula, bottles, wipes, clothes.  All these things are needed many times over.  What I felt helped with the whole process was how we planned out these supplies.  Rather than cramming everything into a single bag, I only set out what I needed at any particular time in the baby bag itself.  I kept it fairly light so that when I need to make the trips to the bathroom to change him, I was able to do so quickly and without fuss.  For the extras that were needed, I just kept these in our separate hand carry.  As and when the baby bag needed resupply, that was an easy task to accomplish from the separate hand carry.

3. Lounge / baby room access - it may seem like an entitled thing to set out on a list, but it was very helpful.  Having the space to set up, to clean the baby, to clean the bottles, to gather up and reassess what we needed to do was truly invaluable.  However, with the options now available at different airports to purchase lounge access for a small fee, it would be something I would consider no matter what class I was flying.  At worst, most airports now have good baby rooms which can satisfy much of, if not all of, this need.  Beyond being able to tidy up for the baby, it also just gave us a bit of time to rest and recuperate from the flight itself as well.

4. Timing - it all goes back to preparation.  By timing the feeds of baby, I was able to arrange his schedule so that during take off and landing he was being fed.  The great concern I had was the discomfort to baby with the pressure changes, but this was all managed with the feeding schedule.  It made for a far happier baby (and far happier fellow passengers).

 

Exhaustion

Well this was a new experience.  It was a level of exhaustion I hadn't experienced before.  I had done all nighters before (for both work and fun), I had been through physical challenges in the past that meant a lack of sleep... but this?  This was an ongoing level of hammering that was wearing away at my resistance.  The first few nights had been fine, with baby still sleeping even if for a shorter period through the night.  Now, we experiencing him waking every few hours.

He was just a baby.  I couldn't blame him for any of this.  It was just a part of the natural cycle of things.  Still, it did mean that I was completely and utterly shattered during the days.  The paternity leave entitlements in Hong Kong were far from generous, so I also found myself in the unenviable position of having to go to work each day after having spent most of the evening feeding and soothing the crying child.

When I managed to calm him.  To put him to bed.  That feeling of success and satisfaction was hard to beat.  Yet it was probably just as much to do with relief at knowing I could get a couple of hours of extra sleep.

A baby photoshoot

 Veronica was completely enamoured with Pickle.  He was so small and delicate.  She wanted to capture every moment of his life.  Our phones were filling up fast with photos and videos, but more was still needed.

Professional support was needed to satisfy Veronica's requirements.  She found a studio online that did at home visits to do baby photoshoots.  I wasn't sure how I felt about it all.  It seemed all a bit much.  I loved having Pickle in our lives, but did we need to go to these lengths to capture these early moments of his life?

We probably didn't, but like with many things in life, "need" is a strong word.  We may not need many things, but that doesn't mean that they aren't nice to have.  The pictures came out well.  The photographers seemed to be baby whisperers, able to calm and sooth at all times, which resulted in some incredible pictures.

A new arrival

I had restless night.

It was nothing compared to what Veronica was going through, but I still felt exhausted.  My friend Christoph had been kind enough to let me crash at his place close to the hospital, so I tried to sleep.  I put the phone next to my head and closed my eyes.  I expected to be woken with a call, but nothing came.  After a few hours of sleep, I woke up and made my way back to the hospital.  Even without the call, I preferred to be there with Veronica.

At the hospital, there was still no major change.  Veronica had barely slept and was still waiting.  I sat in the same cafe downstairs and kept waiting until the call finally came that she was being moved into the delivery ward and that I could finally join her.  I packed up my things and moved up quickly to the private room where she had been moved in anticipation of the labour starting.

Inside the labour room, we were still waiting.  Veronica paced around, the pain of the contractions still intense but with no further dilation.  A doctor had come to induce her and to break her water, but there still didn't seem to be any major progress.  I tried to comfort her as much as I could.  One of the nurses came and suggested some deep tissue massages in her lower back to help ease her pain.  Between us, we took turns massaging her back to try to give her some relief.  The nurses left, and I was alone with her as I tried my best to comfort her through the painful contractions.  Baby had decided that the best place to rest his head was on the base of her spine , so every contraction was doubly painful.  The nurse came back to check.  A sudden flurry of activity began as the nurse declared with surprise that Veronica had gone from being barely dilated to now suddenly being fully dilated.  The baby was coming.

The nurses ushered me out of the main area and onto a seat to the side as they prepared the room for the birth.  The bed was changed and Veronica was helped into a better position.  Once ready, I was led back in to be by her side.  I took her by her hand as she began the process of labour.  Something so many people have gone through before, something so intrinsically part of who we are as humans, and yet something which is so foreign and unique an experience to the uninitiated.   

The intensity and the pain that Veronica went through was incredible to witness and to be near.  It was an emotional experience as I tried to encourage and support her as best as I could from my position to the side.  I held her hand.  I spoke as many words of support as I could think of.  I helped her count.  The nurses urged me to be vocal in my support and so I took on as much of a coaching role as I could.  It seemed apt.  I gave her timing instructions.  I helped her with her pacing.  I gave her unwavering moral support.  What more could I do?  I was deeply invested in this and yet I felt incredibly impotent and powerless through it all.  There was ultimately nothing I could really do.  This was something Veronica had to go through alone, with all of us mere bystanders hoping to be of some minor help.

The time went quickly.  It went very quickly.  From when I was ushered out and then back in, it was only forty minutes.  In that short time, it was done.  With one final push and with the firm hands of the midwife, a new life sprang into our world.  A gentle cry started, with eyes closed and in shock.  I felt a huge wave of emotion.  It was a powerful experience to have gone through.  The nurses checked Veronica, the doctor came to make sure everything was fine and to check the baby.

Then the baby was brought to his mother, placed immediately on her chest.  The warmth and the sound of her heart instantaneously soothed him.

It had been nine months.  Now we would commence the next part of our lives together.
 

Waiting for a new arrival

The baby was coming.  It was very clear that he would be slightly earlier than expected so we needed to go the hospital.  Veronica had been experiencing some terrible nights sleep and by the morning, her contractions had started and were becoming frequent.  At each contraction, she froze in pain and had to lay down.  It was difficult to watch, with nothing I could do to help her other than to offer my support.  I grabbed our prepared bags and we made our way to the hospital.  There, Veronica was quickly admitted to the prenatal care ward.  She wasn't quite ready to be moved to the room for labour yet.  So we would have to wait.  With her being in this prenatal care ward, it meant that I could only stay during the designated visiting times. So instead, I found myself a cafe to camp myself and to wait.

I tried to do some work, to clear up as much as possible as I waited.  It was a strange time.  Full of nervousness, anticipation, and anxiety.  Through all of this, I also felt a sense of complete powerlessness.  As with Veronica's pain, there was nothing I could really do.  Even my ability to be physically close to her as she struggled with this final phase of the pregnancy was now taken from me and I was reduced to being a distant player.

I walked around the grounds of the hospital a bit.  I tried to stay calm and rational.  The fresh air helped, but I thought it best to keep my busy so I went back to the cafe and worked.  There wasn't anything else I could do, so I used this time to deal with open work matters and to close things off as much as I could before the baby's arrival.

Once the evening visiting hours arrived, I rushed back upstairs to be with Veronica.  She had been suffering but was still it seemed no where close to labour.  I waited with her.  We walked around the ward together and as I tried to provide her with as much comfort as possible.  The nurse checked her again close to when it was time for me to go.  There was still a lot of time to wait.  She told me that I should go and find somewhere to get some sleep, she even said that it wasn't time yet for me to be pacing in the hallway!  I wanted to stay close, so I called a friend who lived nearby and arranged to crash at his place.