I just purchased another set of international plane tickets. If there is one area of parenting in which I feel like I am starting to gain a bit of expertise, it is flying/negotiating with airlines.
The most basic rule is: this too shall pass. Almost any absurd fee can be reversed with enough fighting. Complaint letters do work if you send them to the right place. I also fundamentally believe that my fusspot is a social good - grumpy single people: This very baby will someday be helping to pay for your social security in addition to funding your roads and medical research and social services. Flying is not some exalted hobby for the very wealthy or very unencumbered, and thus I don't apologize excessively for a little noise or a little flash of the boobs or even a few unseemly odors.
So here are a few tales from the past 3 months of travel. I have actually named the airlines, but as you can tell, service is quite haphazard and what happens on one trip is not necessarily indicative of another. Also, despite my frequent resolutions not to fly the worst airlines again, the fact is that I almost always go for the very cheapest ticket.
The worst: U.S. Airways. I simply will not fly an airline that now charges pregnant women for a glass of water and harasses them for carrying on their own bottled water. I also had several fairly awful run-ins with them while commuting to City Y where they both refused to help me with carry-on luggage (um, yes. If you charge to check luggage I will stuff everything into my carry-on and then ask you to gate check it. Every single time. Readers, I've flown carry-on with the fusspot for up to a week. I really dislike paying to check luggage) and made me feel terribly guilt about not being willing to lift my own luggage into the overhead bins (when pregnant). Needless to say, inevitably some fine, dashing overweight and unkempt businessman would offer to rescue me and I would smile sweetly and faint away into my window seat. And recently they have repeatedly given me the wrong information about how much the fusspot's ticket would cost and forced me to cancel my reservation (infants never fly free internationally and while they're supposed to cost 10% of the ticket price plus security fees, if you find a really cheap ticket the airline will inevitably charge 10% of some fictional ticket price that they'd rather be charging. Knowing this, I called several times to confirm how much the fusspot would add to the cost and received the wrong information repeatedly).
Recently rather good: Continental. Our flight back from L.A. was delayed a good 4 hours, the airline lost my kosher meal after I had confirmed it twice (once over the phone, once when checking in) and we were all a bit tired when we landed at that large airport somewhere near NYC but not quite in the same state. And after I complained to the airline about a few little glitches (seating, leaving a breastfeeding woman hungry for a long flight) they gave us an $80 cab voucher to get home. Whee!
Mixed, but it all worked out: AirCroatia. While I'm guessing that few of you will fly with this airline anytime soon, I do have to warn you that they have the most absurd luggage policy and if it weren't for JD's quick-thinking it would have been very inconvenient. I also had no idea airlines could be quite so dumb. Simply, they refuse to return strollers planeside on landing. Wheelchairs were no problem, but they absolutely refused for our stroller. Which means that we would have landed up sans stroller on a 4-hour layover in Frankfurt and quite possibly sans stroller at our final destination. And while I had the Ergo and JD with me, if I'd been alone with would have been a. really. big. deal. I don't mind carrying the fusspot, but when you're flying it's nice to have a stroller in the airport so that you can eat (she's started lunging for food when in the Ergo), go for a real walk, go to the bathroom, etc. Needless to say while I got louder and angrier, JD quickly just folded up the stroller and took it off the checked luggage cart and we managed to sneak it onto the airplane and put it in the overhead bin. Problem solved.
The odd: I've been flying AerLingus quite a bit because they actually have an infant lugage allowance and their flights tend to be rather empty, and very cheap. However, on our first trans-Atlantic flight we had a few issues. To start with, they allowed us to bring the carseat onto the airplane and then told us we couldn't use it because it was rear-facing and "all airline carseats must be forward-facing" (not true. And certainly not true in the U.S. or Ireland where ALL infant seats must be rear-facing). The problem was that by the time we'd realized that, it was too late to gate check it and since it didn't fit into the overhead bin, we lost the ability to at least let the fusspot sit on the seat between us and play. The real problem was that the fusspot was the only baby on the flight and at some point there was an announcement about "Babies must be changed in the lavatory." First off, not actually an airline rule and I know that nobody around us complained because I actually asked them. I change the fusspot on my lap when I'm flying. It is SO much safer than carrying her all the way to the back of the airplane, putting her on a flat metal board (airline changing tables never have straps) in a small, smelly room and dealing with the possibility of turbulence at any point. I have a tiny, fold-up waterproof pad that I put on my lap and since we use cloth diapers it's not as if there is any waste we need to throw away. And given our extensive Amtrak time in the past, I can change her diaper on my lap in under 30 seconds. Of course, I don't change diapers when there is food out, but I am honestly still pissed about this one. If the stewards know quite so much about the safest/easiest way to change diapers, I'd be quite happy if they volunteered to just do it for me.
And now, a slightly separate rant about infant seatbelts which have been an issue on every international flight we've taken. They seem to be all the rage in Europe, and while I love the concept the execution is sorely lacking. About half of them cannot be adjusted, and they seem plenty large enough for an adult. Which is to say that the fusspot could easily slid out any number of ways, and more importantly while fully wrapped in the seatbelt she could certainly hit her head on the tray in front, and possibly the tray 2 rows in front. Second, they make it much harder to breastfeed which is also important for her ears. Third, I am quite sure that the Ergo provides more security for the fusspot during turbulence, but I have uniformly been asked to take it off by flight attendants (also while going through security, which is beyond annoying. Dear daft security folks, please explain how exactly you want me to balance my baby, hold my boarding pass, take out my liquids and laptop and fold up my stroller for you at the same time? Because my plan was to use a baby carrier ...)
I have yet to hear any complaints about breastfeeding and other passengers have uniformly been nice about the fusspot (and I'll admit, she had yet to have a real meltdown on a flight). Ground service has been overwhelmingly nice about dealing with strollers (and so many stroller pieces with the bugaboo!) and letting us pre-board (not because we want to be on first, but very nice for getting your luggage on board). In general security has been mixed (none too thrilled about the Ergo or the breast pump, but otherwise helpful) and the flight attendants uniformly looked overworked, tired, and supremely disappointed that I finally managed to procreate and insist upon bringing my adorable constant companion with me. They all seem to take it personally, although I do understand that their jobs have gotten a lot rougher recently.
Friday, July 31, 2009
Thinking IVF
I had an interesting conversation with Kate about how neither of our guys seems all that interested in taking the time to learn about fertility treatments. JD is fully supportive (emotionally and financially) of my choices, but he really feels like I am the "expert" on fertility treatments and since it's my body and my dream I should make the decisions. And by my dream, I in no way mean to imply that JD does not want children, just that he is a lot less attached to how many (although since we've had the fusspot he has changed from 'more would be fine' to 'we should definitely do this again' which is WONDERFUL) and a lot less aware of the risks, less worried about twins, less concerned about the emotional effects of a D and C or SR (should they be medically necessary) ...
But of course then I have to make all the decisions on my own. And while I love consulting my friends in the internets, it's odd to make such big life-altering decisions without ever talking out-loud about them. And I really wish I could just get him to read well-written, interesting things like Cecily's post on frozen embryos. It is certainly something I want to plan for if we're considering IVF, and something where I am pretty sure my plans would be different than JD's.
The odd thing about reading her post is that I also don't think I could 'donate' our embryos to another family, even though I think embryo adoption is wonderful and would absolutely consider it for us in the future. The odd thing is that JD and I are both fully on-board with a shared-IVF cycle where we would essentially sell/gift half of my eggs to a friend in exchange for help covering the costs of the cycle. This something we talked about a lot in the past and I actually have a very dear gay friend who wants biological children and might very well be interested. I really love the idea of the fusspot having some extra 'cousins' out there. The type of friends who send a card once a year and we bump into at reunions and other friend's weddings. Not best friends, not someone we see every month even when we're living in the same city (which we certainly won't be in the future), but good, long-term friends. I like the idea of helping a gay couple (although my friend is currently single and the embryos would land up on ice for a number of years until he is better-established and has a partner) to become parents (or anyone, for that matter). But somehow, I'm still quite sure I would not want to donate embyros to another family. To science, absolutely. And I also worry that if we landed up with a lot of embryos on ice, I would be perpetually pining after another baby (just like the woman in the linked article).
But it may not be that relevant, I've been leaning more towards injectables again. If it worked perfectly once, it's probably worth another try.
But of course then I have to make all the decisions on my own. And while I love consulting my friends in the internets, it's odd to make such big life-altering decisions without ever talking out-loud about them. And I really wish I could just get him to read well-written, interesting things like Cecily's post on frozen embryos. It is certainly something I want to plan for if we're considering IVF, and something where I am pretty sure my plans would be different than JD's.
The odd thing about reading her post is that I also don't think I could 'donate' our embryos to another family, even though I think embryo adoption is wonderful and would absolutely consider it for us in the future. The odd thing is that JD and I are both fully on-board with a shared-IVF cycle where we would essentially sell/gift half of my eggs to a friend in exchange for help covering the costs of the cycle. This something we talked about a lot in the past and I actually have a very dear gay friend who wants biological children and might very well be interested. I really love the idea of the fusspot having some extra 'cousins' out there. The type of friends who send a card once a year and we bump into at reunions and other friend's weddings. Not best friends, not someone we see every month even when we're living in the same city (which we certainly won't be in the future), but good, long-term friends. I like the idea of helping a gay couple (although my friend is currently single and the embryos would land up on ice for a number of years until he is better-established and has a partner) to become parents (or anyone, for that matter). But somehow, I'm still quite sure I would not want to donate embyros to another family. To science, absolutely. And I also worry that if we landed up with a lot of embryos on ice, I would be perpetually pining after another baby (just like the woman in the linked article).
But it may not be that relevant, I've been leaning more towards injectables again. If it worked perfectly once, it's probably worth another try.
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
something new
Not much happening here. I'm sure I'll have plenty to say about my new friends (all with bumps!) by the weekend and my new gym (they measure your fat percentage at intake! Whee! At least the weight, etc. will be in some funny unit I don't really have a grasp of ...) but until I beat this cold I'm still feeling low energy.
So, do you have questions for me? Don't feel obliged, I very rarely have spontaneous questions for bloggers, but I am happy to answer your inquiries.
So, do you have questions for me? Don't feel obliged, I very rarely have spontaneous questions for bloggers, but I am happy to answer your inquiries.
Monday, July 27, 2009
Like moths to a light
or some such analogy.
JD e-mailed to say that a hot young woman tried to talk to him on the subway yesterday. Given JD's well-known tact and rather deeply ingrained resistance to new social interactions, he was worried that he might just have "scared" her.
I, on the other hand, was all smiles and friendly when I finally got the chance to talk to another mother picking up at daycare. An English speaker no less. I did notice the bump, but it did not seem particularly large and the woman in question was carrying her baby (only under-2s in my daughter's classroom ...) and seemed quite comfortable. We exchanged e-mail and I expressed interest in a playdate sometime. You gotta give me points for obliviousness. She wrote back to say any day this week would be great because she's, you know, full-term, and already out on maternity leave and just trying to pass the time until the new baby.
I know it's silly to be jealous of bumps, and those bumps quite quickly turn into babies and I happen to have the. most. adorable. one. of those already, but seriously? What infertile surrounds herself with quite this many bumps in a single week? Playdate with an about-to-pop bump. Drinks on Thursday where 2 people RSVP'd "X and bump" will be there. A "babies and bumps" group next week. As JD would say, good thing I still have a good deal of my former bump still in place ...
JD e-mailed to say that a hot young woman tried to talk to him on the subway yesterday. Given JD's well-known tact and rather deeply ingrained resistance to new social interactions, he was worried that he might just have "scared" her.
I, on the other hand, was all smiles and friendly when I finally got the chance to talk to another mother picking up at daycare. An English speaker no less. I did notice the bump, but it did not seem particularly large and the woman in question was carrying her baby (only under-2s in my daughter's classroom ...) and seemed quite comfortable. We exchanged e-mail and I expressed interest in a playdate sometime. You gotta give me points for obliviousness. She wrote back to say any day this week would be great because she's, you know, full-term, and already out on maternity leave and just trying to pass the time until the new baby.
I know it's silly to be jealous of bumps, and those bumps quite quickly turn into babies and I happen to have the. most. adorable. one. of those already, but seriously? What infertile surrounds herself with quite this many bumps in a single week? Playdate with an about-to-pop bump. Drinks on Thursday where 2 people RSVP'd "X and bump" will be there. A "babies and bumps" group next week. As JD would say, good thing I still have a good deal of my former bump still in place ...
delusional
subtitled: A little story about my morning. And don't worry, the ending is not a surprise.
I am going to sound crazy, but y'all can just blame the sleep-deprivation and snot-induced haze. This morning I peed on a stick. One of those sticks. I had this little fantasy in my head that just maybe it would be positive. No, I've had no symptoms.
And yes, I know that medically it would be impossible for an embryo to implant in a lining which has not been shed since February.
And I am still breastfeeding on demand. Round the clock.
And while I do believe in miracles, I don't think that the kind which disprove basic medical facts are all that common nowadays.
And while I have never had any cycle to speak of when not on drugs, my RE told me that some slim proportion of women have a magical window of opportunity 6 to 9 months post-partum.
And since all possible opportunities in the 6 to 9 month window have now been exhausted (something about "it takes two" and not actually living with my husband and all) if there were any time that it might be even slightly reasonable to test, it would be now.
Well, there was one symptom. I've been tired. Really tired.
And tired was actually my only symptom last spring.
So after dropping the fusspot at daycare I traipsed out to our local pharmacy. Where the women gave me a fairly deliberate look (we were in there last week for eye drops and it's a small pharmacy - fair to say she knows that my constant companion is of the 6-12 month variety). And I did my very best to shoot back at her a look which says "Yes, I have a baby but my husband and still have wild and passionate relations at least twice a day. We're fabulous like that, you know? And for that matter, my cycles are regular and I might just be able to explain away my potbelly with one of those adorable t-shirts that says "I grow people - what's your superpower?"" While I'm not sure she got the entire message, she did abstain from commenting.
And then I peed on my stick, set a timer for 5 minutes (you don't have to be that precise? really?) and was not in the least bit surprised to see only one line. I did check it every 10 minutes for the rest of the hour, but just one (control) line.
But my point is, the whole experience actually made me slightly happier. Not because of the result (let's just admit it, a second line would have had me over the moon) but because it was just. so. normal. Completely and totally normal. And the one time that -despite not having had a period in months- I could still pretend just maybe. Late? My cycle has been missing for about a decade and a half at this point. But this morning I got to play normal and it actually made me happy. And now I can go to the gym later this week with not the slightest question in my mind about whether it's safe.
I am going to sound crazy, but y'all can just blame the sleep-deprivation and snot-induced haze. This morning I peed on a stick. One of those sticks. I had this little fantasy in my head that just maybe it would be positive. No, I've had no symptoms.
And yes, I know that medically it would be impossible for an embryo to implant in a lining which has not been shed since February.
And I am still breastfeeding on demand. Round the clock.
And while I do believe in miracles, I don't think that the kind which disprove basic medical facts are all that common nowadays.
And while I have never had any cycle to speak of when not on drugs, my RE told me that some slim proportion of women have a magical window of opportunity 6 to 9 months post-partum.
And since all possible opportunities in the 6 to 9 month window have now been exhausted (something about "it takes two" and not actually living with my husband and all) if there were any time that it might be even slightly reasonable to test, it would be now.
Well, there was one symptom. I've been tired. Really tired.
And tired was actually my only symptom last spring.
So after dropping the fusspot at daycare I traipsed out to our local pharmacy. Where the women gave me a fairly deliberate look (we were in there last week for eye drops and it's a small pharmacy - fair to say she knows that my constant companion is of the 6-12 month variety). And I did my very best to shoot back at her a look which says "Yes, I have a baby but my husband and still have wild and passionate relations at least twice a day. We're fabulous like that, you know? And for that matter, my cycles are regular and I might just be able to explain away my potbelly with one of those adorable t-shirts that says "I grow people - what's your superpower?"" While I'm not sure she got the entire message, she did abstain from commenting.
And then I peed on my stick, set a timer for 5 minutes (you don't have to be that precise? really?) and was not in the least bit surprised to see only one line. I did check it every 10 minutes for the rest of the hour, but just one (control) line.
But my point is, the whole experience actually made me slightly happier. Not because of the result (let's just admit it, a second line would have had me over the moon) but because it was just. so. normal. Completely and totally normal. And the one time that -despite not having had a period in months- I could still pretend just maybe. Late? My cycle has been missing for about a decade and a half at this point. But this morning I got to play normal and it actually made me happy. And now I can go to the gym later this week with not the slightest question in my mind about whether it's safe.
It's a good thing I'm in love with my husband ...
and wise enough to admit some fault in the current situation. Well, just a very slight amount of fault.
In our relationship, I pack. He simply can't pack - for a picnic, a day at work, dinner out, let alone a year abroad. But I was a bit frazzled in May, what with grading a full stack of exams, jaunting out to L.A., and caring for the fusspot ... which is why at some point early in the day we left for Europe I told my husband to grab the gallon-sized ziploc bag with pump parts and infant tylenol off the kitchen counter and put it in any open suitcase (as I recall, I was at the time seating with my feet up on the couch nursing). And I saw the bag in his hand, so I figured all was well.
Which is to say that the one and only item which failed to arrive here in Europe was my pump parts. They were of course immediately replaced at no small expense. But still, it would be nice to have the extra parts here - nice to be able to pump in the evening before I've washed all the parts, nice to keep a set upstairs and ready to go whenever I have a few minutes ... so I e-mailed my husband very explicit directions to mail me a package.
Which arrived today. Lovely new sweater for me to replace the one he lost in Cro.atia, 2 hats for the fusspot to replace the ones he lost when he took her to the park (sadly both too small, but very sweet thought), printed photos for us and ... wait ... no pump parts. It's a good thing I'm in love with the man.
In other news, we're sick again: we both have colds and sore throats. Luckily I know quite how painful the fusspot's throat must be because she woke up about 12-14 times last night to have a little sip of milk. After all, if I weren't sick myself I might not have been so sympathetic (of course, I might also be at work today rather than 'working' at home while I nurse my cold). I really hope that her daycare does not sabotage my work. This level of illness we can scrape by with, but folks, it's JULY???? What are things going to be like come traditional cold/flu season (for the record Daycare: 3 colds, 1 bout of conjunctivites, and 1 suspected bout of swine flu, Fusspot: 0)
In our relationship, I pack. He simply can't pack - for a picnic, a day at work, dinner out, let alone a year abroad. But I was a bit frazzled in May, what with grading a full stack of exams, jaunting out to L.A., and caring for the fusspot ... which is why at some point early in the day we left for Europe I told my husband to grab the gallon-sized ziploc bag with pump parts and infant tylenol off the kitchen counter and put it in any open suitcase (as I recall, I was at the time seating with my feet up on the couch nursing). And I saw the bag in his hand, so I figured all was well.
Which is to say that the one and only item which failed to arrive here in Europe was my pump parts. They were of course immediately replaced at no small expense. But still, it would be nice to have the extra parts here - nice to be able to pump in the evening before I've washed all the parts, nice to keep a set upstairs and ready to go whenever I have a few minutes ... so I e-mailed my husband very explicit directions to mail me a package.
Which arrived today. Lovely new sweater for me to replace the one he lost in Cro.atia, 2 hats for the fusspot to replace the ones he lost when he took her to the park (sadly both too small, but very sweet thought), printed photos for us and ... wait ... no pump parts. It's a good thing I'm in love with the man.
In other news, we're sick again: we both have colds and sore throats. Luckily I know quite how painful the fusspot's throat must be because she woke up about 12-14 times last night to have a little sip of milk. After all, if I weren't sick myself I might not have been so sympathetic (of course, I might also be at work today rather than 'working' at home while I nurse my cold). I really hope that her daycare does not sabotage my work. This level of illness we can scrape by with, but folks, it's JULY???? What are things going to be like come traditional cold/flu season (for the record Daycare: 3 colds, 1 bout of conjunctivites, and 1 suspected bout of swine flu, Fusspot: 0)
Sunday, July 26, 2009
Please send your love
and prayers to my fellow traveler and friend Rachel at Just What I Always Wanted. Rachel lost her daughter Sarah after only a week earlier this year, and she is now dealing with no eggs at the end of a long-awaited IVF cycle. Please click over and send her your love and prayers.
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