I was a new(er) mom then, I didn’t realize babies can sense confidence and will exploit it. I think it is just their way of reminding us who is truly in charge. All I know is feeling confident was my downfall. This story is the embarrassing moment that my brain replays when I can’t sleep; so, I’ve decided to tell the internet about it.
Little Bug was six months old, and we were on our final flight home to Japan. She has always been a good flyer, even on this first trip. And even though it was just the two of us, we were rocking it. I felt like super mom. People commented how they didn’t even realize there was a baby on the flights we had been on so far, and I thought I knew what I was doing.
Spoiler alert! I never know what I’m doing.
The best part of this flight was the third seat in our row was empty, and J would be waiting for us at the airport to take the baby, tell me how much he missed me, and I could nap the whole way home. The worst part of flying then was trying to nurse in the tiny seats. Little bug did not nurse in the cradle position, but only in the football hold.
This meant instead of trying not to bump elbows, I was trying not to bump people with my entire baby.
But this time with the free seat I had it made. Little Bug’s car seat was the window seat (car seats must not block anyone from exiting your row so they always get the window seat). I sat in the middle seat, back against her car seat, feel in the aisle seat finally semi-comfortable and ready to feed my baby. Please note that I am facing out towards the rest of the passengers.
I also figured it was about time for Little Bug to fall asleep. So instead of using a cover, because I was feeling confident, I decided just to drape us with a swaddler. This way as Little Bug fell peacefully asleep I could simply use it as her blanket, and not worry about struggling with the cover and the sleeping baby.
Everything was going perfect. I leaned back against the car seat and shut my eyes and it happened.
All at once Little Bug pulled the blanket over herself, unlatched, laid flat in my lap, and screamed like she was being murdered. Our fellow passengers looked over to see me facing out toward the aisle with a screaming blanket on my lap and my boob shooting milk out like it was auditioning for a role as a squirt gun.
I untangled Little Bug from the blanket, and tried to put her back on the boob only to squirt milk in her face and make her scream louder. I grabbed her blanket and dried her off, held her on my dry side and bounced and shushed until the screaming stopped and I laid her down in her car seat.
I was mortified, but thought at least I will never see any of these people again after the next eight hours is over, and then I realized it. I never put my boob away or my shirt down. It was still out. I was just sitting in the airplane without baby trying to eat with my entire boob out. And at that exact moment Little Bug laughed at her mirror, but I’m 85% sure she knew, and was laughing at me. She had reminded me who was in control.
In case you were wondering the rest of the flight was uneventful until landing when Little Bug projectile vomited all over everything. Did I have extra clothes for me? No. Rookie mistake; learn from me. We got to J and he scooped up the baby just like I imagined then turned to me and said. “Ugh, you smell like puke.” It was pretty close to how I imagined it all I guess.