How to Fly While Pregnant

Dear Baby,

You have traveled aeronautically in utero a couple of times now. The first time, I was new at this pregnancy business and was slightly oblivious as to how to be a good pregnant person. I walked straight through the metal detector, and only afterwards thought, “Hmm… maybe that wasn’t good for a baby?” Then of course I panicked, told myself I wasn’t going to google it because I had already done it, googled it anyway, and found out that there is nothing that proves that it isn’t safe, but you can always elect the “pat down” option as an alternative. For crazies such as myself, this is the far better option.

The first time we flew together I flew to Maine with your father (more on that trip later). As I’m sure you have found out by now, Portland is a fairly small airport, and the clientele that travel there are quite… hmm… what’s the word? Let’s go with healthy, outdoorsy, respectful, woodsmen/women types. I’m generalizing, but what I am getting at here is that people generally do not cough in your face. The flights are small (and often not full), the airport is clean, and there is little to worry about in terms of germs.

Exhibit B: Reagan National Airport, Terminal A. A cesspool of people, sickness, coughing, and utter lack of manners. Think New York City, Grand Central Station. I shudder. When I flew to Maine, I did not even bat an eye about taking proper precautions to protect you from these nuisances. However, when flying to Denver to visit Uncle Ben it was a top priority. The day before, I went to Home Depot (one of my most hated places on earth… the things I do for you…) and purchased a chemical mask. I didn’t get one of the flimsy paper ones; I got a legit, double coated, double elastic, nothing’s-getting-through-this-thing, blue one. And by golly, I WORE it.

I admit that if I saw someone wearing this item I would probably be judgmental, and say something like, “Now come on, is that really necessary?” Well, circumstances have changed and now I can say that yes, yes it is. On the plane, I sat diagonally behind an adorable little girl probably no more than three or four, and I think I terrified her with my creepy mask. But that same little girl had a mean sounding cough so the mask stayed on. It’s always the cute ones that get you.

Also, having slipped up in Portland with the x-ray machine, I opted for the pat down when going through security. I have to say, THAT wasn’t a totally whacko thing to do because it actually enabled me to skip a rather long line. Sometimes you win; sometimes you just look like a ridiculous hypochondriac dork. Ah, well.

Love,

Mom

P.S. By the way, I’m writing this on the airplane on the way to Denver. We are an hour into the flight and the mask moved only for a second so I could take a sip of water.

About to fly to Denver?...
Or about to preform a life-threatening brain surgery?

Ah, first time flying. So naive and relaxed.
That's your father and my footwear at the Portland Jetport.
I'll be sure and get you your own pair of tiny Bean boots before you arrive.