Flight Canceled: Stranded in Chicago (with a baby)
Sayer, our son, was five months old the first time he boarded a plane. We were bound for Ohio to visit family and friends for Christmas. Were we nervous? Yes. But flying is a neccessity when your closest relatives live thousands of miles away. Travel has simply become part of our lifestyle.
As it turns out, all of our worrying was for nothing. Sayer slept from the moment the plane took off to the moment it landed. And since it was a red eye flight, most people didn't even know we had a child with us.
Fast forward three months, and it's a different story. Again, we were flying across the country and our now squirmy eight month old would simply not sit still on the flight. I can't tell you how many times he dropped his binky and the polite passenger behind me had to pick it up. If I wasn't so paranoid about people judging my parenting skills, I probably would have ordered multiple glasses of wine to help me cope with the situation. After all, we were sitting in first class, and the wine was free.
That was my experience flying with my son. One good. One bad.
So, you can imagine my hesitation when I was forced to travel alone with my son. What? My husband isn't going be on the return flight to help? This can't be a good idea, right? I had heard of parents purposely traveling separately. You know, just in case one plane goes down, at least the child would still have a living parent. But that wasn't the case here. There was no motive. This was pure stupidity... or at least I thought.
Our adventure began the moment we arrived at the Cleveland airport. The plan was to travel from Cleveland to Chicago, and Chicago to San Diego.
First, let's review my "cargo".
- Large suitcase (my clothes and my son's clothes)
- Small suitcase (all my electronic devices)
- Stroller
- Diaper Bag
- Baby
Needless to say, I was not about to carry everything into the airport by myself... so my dad helped me to the check-in counter. Then, the not-so-nice attendant tried to charge me $100 because my large suitcase was a few pounds over the 50lb weight limit. You've got to be kidding me. The frazzled look on my face and the kid hanging from my body didn't seem to phase him or inspire him to cut me a break. No pity cards accepted here.
And so, I aired my dirty laundry... literally. I opened my large suitcase and dirty laundry went everywhere. I grabbed what I could, threw it in a bag and send it off with my dad to be mailed back to San Diego. Annoying, frustrating and embarrassing... yes, but it wasn't the end of the world.
With my large suitcase checked, I said goodbye to my dad and headed toward security with baby, diaper bag, stroller and small suitcase in tow.
By now, you're probably wondering why I didn't check my small suitcase. Simple. My electronics contain my entire life in digital form. I would not be able to work remotely without them. I practically hogtie the suitcase to my body because it contains about $3,000-$5,000 worth of equipment- a nice payday for someone with sticky fingers.
Considering the amount of gadgets, wires and other curious objects in the suitcase, it always steals the spotlight at security checkpoints. After fifteen minutes (no joke) of poking and prodding, we finally made it through security. I mean, seriously. The only dangerous item on me was a 11-month-old baby who was tired of waiting as his baby food was swiped for hazardous material. And, at this point, the only thing I wanted to smuggle onto the plane was a flask.
Thankfully, our flight from Cleveland to Chicago was great. Sayer slept the entire time.
I'm not sure if you've ever been to the Chicago, O'Hare airport, but it's huge. And we were forced to take every form of transportation possible to arrive at our gate. After checking my stroller at the gate, the attendant hopped on the loud speaker and made an announcement. Apparently, our plane was having some mechanical issues. It wasn't working properly.
I know the feeling.
We waited for three hours as they tried to fix our plane, but to no avail. My flight from Chicago to San Diego was officially canceled just short of midnight.
Great. We're stranded in Chicago.
I called my husband. Then, I grabbed my iPhone to document the adventure.