Flying with a Newborn

So. I had to take my baby on a plane.

On the evening of Christmas Day, we took off to travel to Seattle to visit Dallin's family for a week.

I basically had a nervous breakdown.

No, seriously, I was in tears as the plane took off.

I have no idea why...except that I had never been so incredibly worried about anything in my entire life.

Worried about what, you might ask? Oh, you know...whether or not we'd have to check the car seat; getting past security with all our extra stuff (including bottles); having to hold the baby the entire time; the baby crying for the whole trip; the pressure change bugging her so that she cried louder/harder; having to feed her; having to change her; having her spit up or blow out or emit some other kind of liquid that had to be cleaned up immediately; the fact that the plane might crash...you know.

Well, you know what happened?

Madelyn slept. THE ENTIRE TIME.

When we checked in and were told there would be extra seats so we could take her car seat right on the plane, she was asleep.

When we got to security, she was asleep.

(Until we had to take her out of her seat AND take her little boots off so they could be sure we weren't smuggling a dangerous something in our baby's baby sized boots. Sheesh. But she went back to sleep.)

During the extra 40 minutes we had to wait because our flight was delayed, she was asleep.

As we got on the plane and settled into our seats, she was asleep.

As they explained that adults traveling with children should, in the case of an unexpected pressure change, put their own oxygen masks on first before securing the child's, which I completely ignored as I realized if that happened I would not be able to breathe at all and so would be just as well off giving my mask to Madelyn anyway...she was asleep.

As I was in tears during take-off, and as everyone's ears popped, she was asleep.

And when we landed in Seattle 3 hours later, she was still asleep.

It was hard to believe. And it's harder to believe that it will happen again when we fly home.

I guess we'll find out. Cross your fingers for me, please.

No, seriously...cross them.