On Flying

The blog's been quiet recently and it's because I took a little impromptu-ish trip home this last weekend. I say impromptuish loosely. I definitely skirted a few responsibilities here in Rockport, and it was finalized pretty late in the game, so that counts, right?

The drive to Houston-Hobby was strangely slow and when Jordan & I realized that we'd left the car's toll tag at home, it was not pretty. Basically, I got to the airport with like 40 minutes until my flight was scheduled to depart. I was not-so-politely told by the lady at the check in counter that I was indeed very late. She proceeded to make me sign a form stating I'd come back to the airport to claim my luggage in the very likely event that it didn't make it onto my flight. Awesome. So I skate over to the security line, see it's backed up to the 15 minute mark and break out in a cold sweat. The bottle of water I'd recently consumed was really haunting my pregnant bladder while waiting in security, so the bathroom was my first stop and while I was mid-squat, I heard an announcement about a final boarding call and realized they were talking about my flight. I dashed out of the restroom, hoping I wasn't being judged for not washing my hands and ran (yes, I was that fool who runs in the airport) to my gate and made it on the plane... where I proceeded to wait with everyone else for another 30 minutes to push back from the gate.

By the way, my bags made it.

I was pleasantly surprised to have smooth sailing both to and from Augusta. Although technically I flew at like just barely pregnant 4 weeks and had no issues, I was warned by more than a few people that airsickness only affected them during pregnancy. Being that I am plagued with motion-sickness anyway, I was especially concerned for my inner ear and gastrointestinal system on this flight. But no barf-bags were required for this girl. Sure I employed a few pharmacological agents to quell my nausea, but considering I always take something when I fly, this was not new. As we were making the final approach into Atlanta, I turned to the girl complete stranger sitting next to me and remarked excitedly, "I'm so glad I didn't hurl!"She seemed equally excited and a little creeped out.

On the way back, I was that difficult person who opted out of the x-ray scanner, poking my belly out a little further and making it clear to all the security agents that I was pregnant. And what happens? They made me stand and wait next to the scanner for 5 minutes while waiting for a female TSA agent. So much for avoiding radiation (I probably would've been less exposed to just hop in the tunnel and be done lickety split.) But instead, I had a nice conversation with the TSA lady about first trimester woes while she felt up my boobies.

All in all, I'd say it was a success.