I survived. While I can't see myself riding solo on an airplane with a baby again, it honestly wasn't awful. Ther's something about air travel that makes me nervous anyway. I'm not the type that's prescribed valium but there is a certain level of anxiety I get when boarding, taking off, and landing. Now that I was traveling with a bundle of cuteness, I didn't want to be THAT mom with the hysterical child. Here's how it all went down...
First, I got to board early. Awesome. But as they were taking my ticket they didn't having the name of my traveling infant. After a brief scolding I told her I was never asked and I sure wasn't hiding him. Oh well. Then when we got to our seat and got settled, everything was fine until Isaiah had a meltdown. Seriously, he was mad! I tried giving him his bottle (which I brought because I wanted to be discrete and not flash the teenage boy sitting next to me). Nope. Then I tried his pacifier. Nope. When in doubt, get him naked. Kind of worked. Then we took off. Completely calm and instantly asleep - wonderful. Then I popped his pacifier in so he could pop his ears on the way up. At some point I did give 1/3 dose of baby Tylenol to chill him out so I'm sure it somewhat helped.
He ended up sleeping for a while and I then was able to keep him entertained by dressing him, singing, and playing. Then he started to get fussy. So I tried his bottle. Nope. I knew he was hungry so I just had to lose my modesty and nurse him. It took a few tries because he was getting pretty upset and those seats are uncomfortable for a big boy like him. I'm sure I flashed the boy next to me but oh well! Isaiah slept a little more then woke up to play.
While playing he stopped, looked at me, pushed, and pooped. Of course, I have the child that rarely poops and he decided to poop on the airplane. He hadn't pooped in 2 days so I knew I was in for a real treat. Considering I had the window and the elderly woman on the aisle had a broken leg, I was going to try and have him sit in his poo for the hour. Nope. So we shuffled everyone out of row and headed to the bathroom. Everyone was so nice on the way back - telling me how cute and offering to help. Changing a diaper on a plane is...interesting. The changing table is small, cold, and scared Isaiah (probably from the plane movement). But I did it. He had a clean bottom and we made it back to our seat and played til we landed. I gave him his pacifier on the way down so his ears would pop and he was an angel all the way until we arrived at my parents' house.
So, in a nut shell, everything that I hoped wouldn't happen (screaming, refusing a bottle, pooping, and fussing), all happened. And I survived. It was the longest and shortest 3 hour flight that is becoming a distant memory. If I were flying with Darren it would have been better. Not just because everything better when he's around ;) but an extra pair of hands and the ability to spill over into the next seat would have been easier.
But we made it safe and sound and we're loving every busy minute in Washington.