Let me encourage you that if you are ever presented with the opportunity to travel alone, internationally, with a one year old on your lap while you are seven months pregnant, you absolutely should do it. Once you’ve accomplished that, you can conquer the world!
Last week, fourteen month old daughter and I tagged along with hubby on his last business trip of the year. Since we were leaving three children at home, I wasn’t comfortable being gone too long, so we decided that I would fly back a few days before his trip was finished.
I woke baby up at 4:30 a.m. and told her in a cheery voice, “Today we are going to play a new game! It’s called, ‘Can mommy get us back to the U.S. from a third world country?'”
“Everyone at the airport speaks English,” hubby assured me. “You have nothing to worry about!”
I used to think that when hubby told me there was nothing to worry about, that meant there was actually nothing to worry about. But over the years I’ve learned it really means that he worries about totally different things than I do and he has no clue whether I should be worried or not. I stayed worried.
I worried on the entire, careening drive through the nightmarish, Nicaraguan traffic.
I worried when we strapped the baby into her stroller and hubby set the two, too big suitcases on the sidewalk and once again I was reminded that I only have two hands.
I worried when we went inside and found the check-in line was nearly an hour long and hubby said he had to get to work and wouldn’t be able to wait with me.
I worried when he gave me a peck on the lips instead of a long, warm, Hallmark moment embrace that I could play over and over in my mind as my plane went down into the Gulf of Mexico.
I worried when the non-English speaking guard motioned me out of the line and indicated that I should follow him….to a much shorter line.
I worried when the girl at the desk told me I would have to wait because they needed to make copies of the baby’s passport.
And then suddenly, I was eating Cadbury chocolates and everyone was speaking English and being extremely helpful. What was I worried about? They love pregnant women and fat, white babies in Nicaragua and they did everything they could to make sure I was comfortable and moving in the right direction.
The ride from Managua to Houston went smoothly, with no detours into the Gulf of Mexico. The flight attendant moved the woman next to me to another seat so I could have extra room. The baby ended up with a fan club of about 20 people that cooed and entertained her for the entire flight. And the movie was actually a decent comedy that I had not yet seen.
As we waited for our stroller, we waved and said good-bye to all of our newfound friends while they disembarked. An elderly couple stopped, and the gentleman stroking baby’s cheek, said, “You are absolutely precious.” And then he laid his hand on my arm and sincerely said, “And so are you.”
And so, the rest of my worries faded rather quickly. I knew the prayers of my friends and family had caused us to be surrounded by angels on the first flight, and would continue to be heard while I navigated my way through Customs, picked up and re-checked our luggage, and once again, managed to take my syringes and prescription vials of Heparin through security without a hitch.
After a total of 13 hours I arrived home with an exhausted sense of peace and well-being. I climbed into the van, excited about going to go pick up my kids, and somehow, that sense of peace lasted even though the battery was dead. After all, there truly wasn’t anything to worry about.
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