Henry's First Flight

Preface: Before taking Henry on a long haul flight, I thought it would be good to take a short little hopper plane to Scotland so he could experience going on an airplace, and also, to test myself and what my anxiety will and will not be able to handle on my own. 

Spoiler Alert--It didn't go well for me. We got on the plane and I immediately started journaling in a little pink notebook I brought with me because I was so overwhelemed and needed to get my thoughts out. The flight however was super short, so I didn't actually make it through writting all my thoughts down before we had to disembark. 

Below is what I ended up writting in that journal, through shakey hands and crying...

"October 23rd, 2022 
 Henry's First Flight

We'll we're here. We made it on board...barely. Henry is fine, he's sat watching the Incredibles on my phone--thank you mom for Disney+ and the ability to download whole films to a device!

I thought I had myself handled. Got to the airport with plenty of time, parked the car, got the shuttle bus, navigated through departures...all with Henry in tow, not getting lost or out of control. Until we hit the area right outside of security. Henry ran off to one of the airport casino areas because he saw all the flashy lights and one of those £1/ride kid ride along machines. He was NOT happy when I picked him up off the machine and carried him underarm style despite his kicking; I was less impresed with the melt down outside security and having to abandon pushchair and luggage to chase down a running toddler underneath all of those queuing rope barrier things. 

After alot of Henry crying and me bending down in front of the pushchair with him sat in it, reassuring him that we're going on an airplane and it's gonna be a fun experience....he finally calmed down. We continued on through security; Henry insisted on walking and that was a mistake. After staying by myside in the queue for a while, he started getting a bit ahead, ducking under barriers and getting away from me. A little hustle, encouragment and finally a bit of threatening either the child leash or the pushchair, Henry settled on the pushchair and the rest of security went as well as it could. 

I nearly forgot to take my phone out of my back pocket before going through the metal detector, and my bag needed to be searched, swabbed, and scanned a second time (I think it was because of the baby wipes I had....the moisture in the packet technically a liquid....), but they let me through. My anxiety was still running loose the entire time and my sweat glands were in a panic by the time I got into Duty Free though, 

Henry was great when it was time to go through the metal deterctor. The security people took the pushchair through seperately, then Henry walked through, and waited for me to do the same. Absolute gem he was! No fussing and no getting clingy, despite there being loads of people around and the hustle of security goings on. 

We wandered around Duty Free and shops for a while because I saw our flight has been delayed by an hour. Henry wasn't great for food either despite not having eaten much before we got in the car and on our way. There was a Burger King that seemed to be the most likely thing he would eat. He self proclaimed he was hungry, so I asked him if chips and chicken nuggets was something he's like to eat. I got an affirmative, but still he didn't eat a darn thing." 

(That's all I got to write before we had to get off the plane....now the rest of the story...)

Luckily I had emergency snacks in my bag, so Henry had some chocolate animal biscuits and some water which was all he fancied for dinner. He didn't want fries, no nuggets, none of mama's burger....but weirdly enough he took the mini ketchup packet and squeezed that into his mouth, so at least some vegetable biproduct went down for dinner. 

From there we killed time wandering around, finding a good place to perch until our gate number was called. I bought Henry some Kids Headphones, and I had my phone and my Kindle with me to keep him entertained with some movies, which he loved. He settled and watched while we waited, with afew moments of wanting to get up and wander around the airport. We looked at other planes taxing on the runway. We played with some stickers that came with his headphones. 

By the time our gate was called, all the priority passengers were being called up first, and the rest of people queuing up around the corner to get on the plane...Henry needed a nappy change and I figured I should go to the bathroom too while we waited for our section to be boarded. I thought I had plenty of time with the amount of people waiting, and the bathroom only being a few feet away, but by the time we got out of the family room changing area, EVERYONE was gone and only one of the flight crew was at the desk. 

We had to RUN. Luckily I had Henry back in the pushchair before we got out of the bathroom in readiness to board the plane, but we were the very last ones to get on the plane. 

The nice attendant scanned our boarding passes, told me that the men on the tarmac would take the pushchair to put in the hold for me, and to go straight down the corridor, all the way to the bottom. Great....all ramps....until we got outside. There was a 2 flight of stairs, no lift down, and I had a child in a pushchair in one hand, hand luggage in the other, and no way to get down these stairs quickly to get on the plane. 

There were ground crew who looked up at me, but didn't even make a move to help me as I unbuckled Henry from the Pushchair, folder it up quickly then encoruaged him to hold on to the handrail and walk down himself (at a toddlers pace of course), while I followed behind him, hands full of luggage, pushchair and a backpack on my back, trying as steadily as I could to get us and all of our things down quickly and safely. 

When I reached the end of the stairs, someone finally came to get the pushchair from me, and Henry and I joined the last of the passengers on the tarmac queuing up the stairs to board the plane. Nearly didn't make it, but at least there was enough people in front of us for me to catch my breath and snag this picture of Henry. 

Luckily, a short plane that it was, we actually got seats quite close to the front and it was easy enough to navigate to our seats. All the overhead bins were full, but the flight attendant assured me that the Trunki (child suitcase that i had as hand luggage) could fit in the space underneath the seat in front of us. Henry choose his seat, I sat down, buckled us both up and the doors closed. 

My anxiety was on overload at this point and it took everything I could not to burst into tears in public. I wanted to be strong for Henry. So, labored breathing, a few silent tears, me wiping them away and plastering a smile on my face that Henry could see as I explained to him where were were and what was going to happen. 

Up in the air, I got Henry settled with a movie on my phone, and started to write. 

I broke. Emotionally I broke. I'm lucky I can be a silent crier, because I did not want Henry to think mama was afraid or upset about the plane journey, it was just that all of my anxiety that I've been holding back to get through the airport came flooding back and needed to be released. 

During take off as well, I realized that the last time I got on a plane, was to fly back home for my dad's funeral, which brought up another flurry of emotions. 

Then there was the fear that I had made a very bad descision in taking Henry away from home and putting us through all of this for the sake of giving him experience on a plane. And how in the hell was I going to be able to do this on a long haul flight to America if I couldn't even handle going through the motions of a charter plane to Scotland for a short break.

Handling flight delays, airport security, navigating through the airport--these things in any other circumstances are taxing for an individual, with or without anxiety. Add in anxiety combined with traveling and it's amplified. Add in a small child, and it's a whole 'nother ballpark. 

Kids are unpredictable, and you have to anticipate their needs and behaviors which isn't easy to do because it requires adaptability at any given moment (something that is FAR beyond my nature) but then they also come with a lot of literally baggage. The amount of times that I had to unbucle Henry take him out of the pushchair, fold up the pushchair, lug the pushchair in one hand, the trunki in the other up stairs, off/on buses/shuttles, and hope that I could control the child by voice control alone....I'm sick of it. 

We landed, disembarked, and by that time (8pm) Henry was tired and restless and cranky. Luckily, getting off the plane someone saw I was struggling to keep Henry calm and carring my luggage, so she helped me. She also said that she wanted to give me a hug when she saw me onboard earlier. She carried the trunki, while I carried Henry up the stairs back into the airport from the ground floor tarmac. Which was absolutely lucky because he was kicking and screaming and actually knocked his head against the railing from thrashing so much. 

Another few moments calming him down in the hallway, and we carried on to collect the pushchair in the baggage claim area, which seemed to take FOREVER. Henry wanted to run around, touch the baggage carousel, throw his stuffed animal kitty up in the air (which did actually land on the carousel a few times), climb on the carousel, put our luggage back on the carousel, leave the airport and go home, or lay down on the floor in the middle of foot traffic.

Another hour later and we were on an express bus that went from the airport to the City Centre so we could check into our hotel. By 10pm, 2 hours past a normal baby boy's bedtme.... after a plane, a shuttle, walking in the rain, and checking into our hotel...it was time to sleep. Except Henry was HYPER and jumping all over the bed while I had a melt down. Having surpressed alot of my emotion, I let it all out in the hotel room, which was a shoebox. I knew booking a budget hotel it was going to be small (which is fine for just me and a boy), but after everything that got me upset throughout the day, the hotel room being so tiny I couldn't even push the pushchair into the room without dismantling it was just depressing. 

What was worse was that no matter how hyper and happy Henry seemed, he kept saying things like "I go home" and "Go mama house", as if to say...okay, I've had an adventure, but now I'm done and I want to be home. That was the final straw for me. I knew that I was unhappy, Henry was expressing his need to go home, and we weren't going to be able to have any fun if we stayed in Glasgow. 

The Abba lyrics "I was sick and tired of everything when I called you last night from Glasgow..." was never more relevant, except maybe for when they were written. 

I knew I needed to sleep, as we both has an exhausting day and I needed to make a descision in the morning, but I had a feeling it was time to cut bait and go home. 

Eventually, after being jumped on, a few head bumps against the wall, some loud enthusiastic screaming, and a very terse mama, I told Henry it was time to go to sleep--and that Mama couldn't sleep until Henry did. That was at 11pm and I cried, and cried and cried until I too fell asleep. 

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The next day, despite there being no windows and the room completely dark, we still got up by 8am. Henry was FAR less enthusiastic to be waking up next to mama than he usually did. No cuddles, no hellos. He definately wasn't happy here--the novelty had worn off. It was time to go home. 

We got ready for the day, I set up Henry with a snack and some milk for breakfast (something I had the foresight to grab on the way to the hotel last night) then looked into getting from Glasgow to Birmingham (where we parked the car) as quickly & efficiently as possible, so matter the waste of money. Rearranging Flights was going to be far too expensive(like paying for anothr round trip with the flight fees and difference in costs in day/time of flight). So, I looked into train tickets-- I only needed 1 for me (kids under 5 travel free), so I looked at the time, gave myself 2 hours to get to the train station which was only a 10minute walk away and prayed that we had a good morning. 

Happy was too much to ask for, but I'm glad I have myself 2 hours, cause with a rampent toddler, we definately needed it. We checked out around 9:30am, and headed towards the train station (our train departing at 11:33). We stopped at a store on the way to get snacks/provisions for our multi-transport journey home and then Henry had a melt down in the middle of an empty square in Glasgow (aka..his cries echoed).

From what I could sense, Henry just wanted to go home...And we were, we were headed to the train station, but the directions my phone gave me from the store, we had to go back the way we came past the hotel to GET to said train station. I think Henry saw that we were getting stuff from the store, and then heading back to the hotel which is NOT what either of us wanted.

Another kind samaritain saw me outside the Tesco Express, came up and started talking to me. She wanted to comfort me, let me know that she also has a little boy and that she knows how tough it is. She tried to do some problem solving with me, asking if there was anything she could get him from the shop that would help him calm down. I explained my situation and that we just both needed to go home as we weren't happy. That Henry is a lockdown era baby, so new places and things are still only okay in moderation, but big change was not and that I think he just needed his home comforts instead of a new big city. She wanted me to know that I'm doing the best I can and that it will be alright, which I appreciated, and we parted ways.

I took a detoured route to 'fake out' Henry so he wouldn't be upset and finally made it to the train station. That was another hour ish of (hell) hussle trying to get him to understand that not all trains are the same, and the way he was dragging me to the far side of the station wasn't where we were meant to be. Eventually I found our train platform, got Henry on and settled him down with toys and watching The Incrediables on my Kindle. 

Glasgow to Preston -2.5 hours

*CHANGE TRAINS* (Which involved, getting Henry, hand luggage, backpack, and pushchair off the train around other people wanting to get off/on said train, Then reset up, put Henry in pushchair, put hand luggage underneath the pushchair wedged inbetween the pushchair frame so it would stay out of the way, wheel around to the next platform, make sure it's the right train, take Henry out of the Puhschair, take hand luggage out from the bottom, fold down the pushchair, grab all of the things, hoist them onto the train, and secure pushchair and trunki in baggage area before settling Henry and I down in our seats.) 

Another Train; Preston to Birmingham international - another 2-3 hours

Repeat all of the CHANGE TRAINS paragraph above, except this time get on a shuttle from the Train part of the Station to the Airport section, then immediately find the bus terminal outside the airport so we can get a the Shuttle Bus to our parking--respeat folding up process but this time on a bus instead of a train.

10 minute bus journey. 
10 minutes of collection our keys, and getting everything back in the car. 
1.5 hour car drive from Birmingham to Home. 

We checked out of our hotel in Glasgow at 9am, and we made it back home after 2 trains, a shuttle, a bus, and car journey at 7.30pm. Only to encounter the next big challenege....Our Cat Charlie was not well.