25 of 31 - SOLSC 2021
After reading this post I was reminded of some of my own experiences as a parent who travels on airplanes with a kid who vomits. Many things resonated with me. The having a change of outfit - for everyone. The making sure you have a puke bag ready, at all times, within reach, and with the perforated top already torn off. How much easier it got once she was old enough to communicate that it was coming (though I had gotten really good about noticing the signs).
I am not going to share with you about the ten hour flight that she puked a couple of times per hour for most of the flight. I am not going to tell you about her strategy to just not eat when we fly, because it is less gross. I am also not going to share with you the thankful prayers and happy dances we do when we manage to take a flight without puke. (Though it is generally every other flight - becoming one in three as she gets older. AND, pandemic, so she hasn't been on a plane in 15 months and counting.)
The previously linked blog ends with,
I am not going to share with you about the ten hour flight that she puked a couple of times per hour for most of the flight. I am not going to tell you about her strategy to just not eat when we fly, because it is less gross. I am also not going to share with you the thankful prayers and happy dances we do when we manage to take a flight without puke. (Though it is generally every other flight - becoming one in three as she gets older. AND, pandemic, so she hasn't been on a plane in 15 months and counting.)
The previously linked blog ends with,
She landed successfully without vomiting. Her first words upon landing, accompanied by a triumphant fist pump?“I made it!”
We had this experience once also. Well, nearly this experience. We landed in Seattle after ten hours on the plane, the second flight of our trek. She was young, strapped in her carseat on the plane. The three of us had flown together, (which didn't happen when our schedule were different). The car seat was moved to the rolling suitcase, attached with the most awesome and simple tool. All spaces; seat pockets, seats, under seats, between the window and the seat, and overhead had been freed of our belongings. Two of us carted our haul off the plane while one toddled between us, smiling to everyone as she went. (She was about to see Grandma, after all!)
The steps along the jetway were filled with relief for all of us. Our journey of 24 hours was nearly complete. We would be greeted by family, have a meal at Red Robin, and then be unpacking at home. Because we were a family with a young one we were directed to the elevator, rather than the stairs. She pressed the down button and we all waited for the doors to open.
It was that moment that I realized she was about to throw up. The incredulous thoughts I had of "but we are on the ground" were quickly replaced with a mental scan of where I might have tucked a barf bag - only to realize they were all left on the plane. We were on the ground, after all. This should mean no more puking. All of this was in a nanosecond, as well as lifting her over the metal garbage can mounted on the wall as the retching began.
She had great aim, for the little that trickled out. Immediately feeling better she gleefully entered the elevator, parents looking at one another, shaking our heads as we tried to decide if we should laugh or cry.
The steps along the jetway were filled with relief for all of us. Our journey of 24 hours was nearly complete. We would be greeted by family, have a meal at Red Robin, and then be unpacking at home. Because we were a family with a young one we were directed to the elevator, rather than the stairs. She pressed the down button and we all waited for the doors to open.
It was that moment that I realized she was about to throw up. The incredulous thoughts I had of "but we are on the ground" were quickly replaced with a mental scan of where I might have tucked a barf bag - only to realize they were all left on the plane. We were on the ground, after all. This should mean no more puking. All of this was in a nanosecond, as well as lifting her over the metal garbage can mounted on the wall as the retching began.
She had great aim, for the little that trickled out. Immediately feeling better she gleefully entered the elevator, parents looking at one another, shaking our heads as we tried to decide if we should laugh or cry.
I love how you segue from the finale of the other "puke post" to the tale of your daughter's almost-success. Truly though, she made it into the silver can. I call that a big win!
ReplyDeleteLet's hope this continues to get better for her. As someone who used to get carsick quite often, I understand the challenge. You made me feel like I was right there with you. Smart quick thinking to find a nearby trashcan. How lucky you were to discover the signs in advance. Certainly, as parents, there are many times we walk the fine line between laughing and crying.
ReplyDeleteYes, we do know the signs! My eldest and youngest were carsick. I still carry around a puke-bag at all times. I was carsick all those years we lived in the mountains.
ReplyDeleteI hope she's outgrown it during the pandemic.