Never again

I guess you can tell by the title of this post how my trip went. Oh my God, what a mistake. Have you ever spent several days wanting to kick yourself for some dumb idea you had months ago that you're now paying for? Yup. Go to Florida for your birthday, I said. It'll be fun, I said. You can't possibly be pregnant and nauseated, I said.

Well, the good parts first. Loved seeing my sister. She got tons of good Bumpus time in, and was an enormous help to me in taking care of him (is this what it's like having an involved spouse? 'Cause it's pretty awesome). Good to see my cousin, too, even though one of our visits I couldn't hear a word above the racket of his clamoring children. And with the exception of major flight delays on the way home, everything went like clockwork - got to Florida no problem, got the rental car, installed the car seat, got our room, etc etc. They even had a nice breakfast bar where my sister could pop down and grab me random items in an attempt at waylaying my nausea. And I did get one really nice day playing in the waves in the wonderful bathtub-like water. Plus my cousin made a little party for my birthday which was awfully sweet. But....

I simply cannot do airline travel with B, not for a while. I don't know why I thought I could. It is just way, way too hard. Mainly the hauling of all the crap. There's just too much crap. I worried incessantly about the effects of lugging a 50 lb suitcase, a 25 lb toddler, and very heavy and awkward backpacks/purses/strollers on the pregnancy...and of course no matter how many diapers or how much food I brought for both of the flights, it was never anywhere near enough. B really did ok - no major meltdowns or anything; probably because I let him crawl on the floor and jump up on the seat as many times as he wanted, while tearing apart the Sky Mall catalogues. But it sure was exhausting for me. Forget about reading, drinking, eating, sitting comfortably, or doing anything at all but guiding him down to the floor and back up on to the seat, over and over and over again. That's all we did on four three-hour flights. 

The worst, though, was the nausea, which by yesterday had ramped up to about a nine, which in my book means: inability to eat anything, can't make conversation, read, or do anything but sit catatonic and rock back and forth. And yet I had to pack up, check out, hit up the grocery store for food for the flight home for B since I was out, kill a few hours in the oppressive heat on the boardwalk, return the rental car, find a gas station to gas up the car before returning it, get to the airport, kill four hours at the airport because it's too early, fly to Dallas, kill four more hours because the connecting flight was delayed until 1 AM, then find my way home at 3 AM, battered, starving, exhausted, and of course, horribly nauseated. It was the closest thing to torture I have experienced. Oh yeah, and then haul my 50 lb suitcase up three flights of stairs to my house. To an empty refrigerator. Good times.

All of this would have been a lot easier had I not been nauseated the whole time, of course. But it still would have been frigging hard. The only conclusion I can take from this experience is that I simply cannot travel with a small child (or children). It doesn't mean I can't ever travel again. It just means all major travel is out for several years. Which makes me profoundly sad, when I think about my aging relatives and all the lonely holidays I have ahead of me.

But then I think about the long stretches in my 20s and 30s when I didn't see my cousins, my half-sister and her family, for years on end, and that seemed ok at the time. Why this sudden need now for family time? Well, because of B, naturally.  But when I think about it, a) B won't remember anything before about six or seven anyway, and b) most people become homebodies when their kids are this age, because travel just becomes too frigging hard. Especially with two. Which I think is a foregone conclusion considering how sick I've been. Which, I suppose, is a good thing.

I attempted the Unisom + B6 morning sickness remedy, and there were times I felt like it helped, but then other times, like yesterday, when it did nothing at all. And considering how random morning sickness is - sometimes it bowls you over, sometimes it's manageable - it's almost impossible to pinpoint one thing that actually "helps". Will I keep trying it? Maybe, I don't know. Right now I'm just excited to be home and safe and still pregnant (six weeks!) and have an avalanche of work emails to contend with - almost all refund requests :-/

The preschool director called to tell me she'd gotten my deposit check but is recommending I not start B in the spring because all of the other children will be up to a year older than him at that time and he could end up really lost. She said I should wait and see how the demographic looks for their summer camp - and if not then, then I could probably start him next fall, when other kids his age will be joining. I have to say I'm really bummed out by this. Once again, it's just me being rigid and not wanting to let go of an idea once I get it in my head...but I was really looking forward to having B in some kind of "school" by the time the new baby's here (although I definitely worried there'd be too many changes all at once if that were the case). I can also just send him somewhere else...or not send him anywhere and save the money, which is a major concern right now. So, I think it'll all work out. I am disappointed, though. 

I suppose tomorrow I'll toddle on over to Kaiser and get "us" all registered as a new pregnancy. Which means filling out a bunch of paperwork which asks questions like "have you thought about hurting yourself in the last ninety days?" I should NOT include my Florida trip in my answer, right???