Whew

I am elated to have made it home from San Francisco--the journey was a challenge that I was both psyched about and in high planning mode over (my way of managing my anxieties). I called the airline a couple of days before our departure and they said there were 15 empty seats on our nonstop flight from Pittsburgh to San Francisco, so I decided to take the carseat. Of course, the seats were all taken when we arrived at the airport, which was also the case for our first, longer leg on the way back. It turned out we could have used it on the final, short hop from Detroit to Pittsburgh, but I had gate-checked it when the San Francisco to Detroit flight was all full. However, as Erin pointed out, it did give us the option to take a cab out in California, so that was a nice benefit.

I had really had no idea what to expect, having never flown with a small baby before. Gillian doesn't like being held in arms for long periods of time, and she is often uncomfortable while nursing, so I wasn't sure what I'd be able to do to comfort her. I thought that maybe the vibrations from the plane would help, but with 11 hours of flying in front of us, I was really hoping things would turn out okay.

As it turned out, she was a total angel. She cried hard as we were getting on the plane in Pittsburgh, since she was in a wrap carrier and I was using my hands to stow our bags and everything rather than soothe her, but she had stopped by the time we took off (I think maybe even by the time the whole plane was loaded), and she barely whimpered for the whole 5 1/2 hours, alternately nursing and sleeping. On the return flight, she was fussing as we took our seats, but she ate once we were settled, then napped for 2 1/2 hours straight, and finished out the flight sitting on my lap and looking around happily until landing.

We were seated one seat down from this totally obnoxious guy who began the flight by turning to the passenger between himself and me and saying loudly (in reference to being seated near me with Gillian), "I know--bummer, right? I mean, dude, if a seat opens up, just bolt up there and take it. Just jump up and take it even if the seat-belt sign is still on!" After the 4 1/2 hour flight was over, he leaned over and said, "She was awesome! That was an awesome flight!" and I wanted to say, yeah, the only person who was kind of a jerk was the grown man, not the three-month-old baby. I mean, nobody wants to be seated next to a baby, but you know, why be a hater?

In all, though, people were incredibly kind to us. I was by myself for most of the trip, toting a backpack and stroller with a carry strap on my back, and Gillian in her carseat on my arm (or some other configuration of backpack/stroller/carseat/baby/wrap), and we made it through various security checkpoints and peoplemovers and flights and shuttles without incident. Several thoughtful souls even went out of their way to offer to help, including a kind of cheesy guy in his early 20s who had previously been trying hard (and unsuccessfully) to hit on a pretty girl nearby. It was a really hard trip--keeping Gillian happy and managing all of our gear--but it was, in all, successful in that we got there and back safely, and it was even disaster-free. Thanks, God, for smiling on that one.