I finished the rest of my goodbyes on Thursday -- goodbye to my neighbors (Giovanni, my landlord who lives next door; Elizabeth, who was giving us her Wall Street Journals after she was done reading them for the day!; and Tony and his son, who took our bags of CRVs off our hands since we weren't going to get a chance to cash them in), goodbye to our prayer group (picture forthcoming), and then yesterday, a final goodbye to California. I am really sad but trying not to think about it too much.
I spent all of Thursday night awake, until about 5 a.m. on Friday morning when I finally got an hour of sleep. I came down with some symptoms of a stomach bug (which I won't go into details of for modesty's sake). I think it had partly to do with my huge meal at A Passage to India, followed by copious quantities of water and a distended stomach, followed by several quesadillas and dried apple rings at the prayer group which did not sit right in my stomach. Plus, probably, stress and anxiety about my last night in our house in California.
That didn't bode well for my flight.
I went through the family line in security, which was nice and stress-free since everyone expected me to take awhile. The flight itself was over an hour late so we had to kill time in the airport. Using the bathroom was kind of an ordeal because I was lugging around Michael in the Baby Bjorn, carrying his car seat (it's too heavy for me to carry with Michael in it), toting my carry-on, and carrying the diaper bag. I couldn't even get it all on the plane, since I had to use two hands to lift the car seat over the seats (narrow aisles) and the stewardess brought my carry-on back for me.
A latecomer sat next to me and Michael (we were in the window and middle seats) and I jokingly told him he won the lottery, getting to sit next to the baby. He was great and smiled and told me he was happy to, and he seemed very sincere. His name was Steve and he was a middle-aged business traveler from Chicago (coming in from a late flight from China) with three teenage sons, and we talked for most of the flight. He even offered to swap seats but I had gotten the window seat purposely so I didn't box anyone in. He ordered the snack box and then basically gave me the whole thing. When I needed to change Michael, he stood in the aisle and let me change him right on his seat. He held Michael when I was trying to shove everything in my diaper bag, and he entertained him when Michael kept staring and smiling at him. He didn't mind Michael kicking him while I was nursing (since Michael takes up a bit of room and I couldn't confine him within my seat). And he helped me carry my bags and car seat out of the plane all the way to baggage. Not to mention it was nice having someone to talk to. Praise God that I was seated next to Steve, as I really couldn't have hoped for a kinder or more understanding seat mate. He was actually in the wrong seat, but when the person who actually was supposed to be sitting there agreed to just swap, I breathed a sigh of relief!
Kind people are such a blessing! There are many good people in this world, but each time I come across one I really appreciate them.
Michael was pretty good on the flight. There were little outbursts here and there, but he wasn't inconsolable at any point, and he fell asleep for about an hour and a half (and I tried to take a nap, too, but didn't succeed very well). He pooped right at the beginning of the flight, which was unfortunate, because I figured a diaper change could have waited if it were at the end of the flight, but I couldn't have him sitting in poop for four hours. Steve told me he had never seen anyone change a diaper before with rubber gloves. (I only do that when I can't get to a sink right away!) I'm just really grateful it wasn't a blowout.
We didn't get up at all to walk up and down the aisle, which I regret because I was going numb by the end of the flight.
I was tired, but not as exhausted as I expected to be. I only slept 3 hours last night and I'm still not exhausted. Thanks, body, for adjusting to the abuse I put you through. My queasiness from the previous night mostly subsided.
My mom picked me up from O'Hare and we drove the rest of the way. Michael was awake for all but the last fifteen minutes. We got home around 11:30 central time, which, at 9:30 California time, was still an hour and a half past his bedtime. Poor Michael's routine was really out of whack yesterday. He's currently sleeping in a Pack 'n Play next to me.
Overall, the flight went much better than I expected. (The family behind me in security was traveling with a 9-month old and told me "it's never as bad as you expect." I thought they were going to jinx me, but it was true!) Ben sent me an email later that I just missed the worst of it since United suffered from some serious delays after my flight.
Phase II of our adventure begins, the extended visit away from "home" (wherever "home" is now). This is the first night Michael has spent outside our beloved Union City, CA home (*sniff*) other than the hospital when he was born.
I miss California and Ben. I keep telling myself and everyone in CA "it's not 'goodbye'; it's 'see you later'." I'm Facebook friends with a lot of the moms from my group, which will be nice to still be able to "watch" all the kiddos grow up.
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