Flying

Inspired by my friend Lynley and as a result of nothing to post about, I choose to blog about the adventures we experienced while telling our family that we were pregnant with Matthew, our firstborn.

I found out alone, went and bought a baby bib that read "I love Daddy" and waited for Scott to come home from what he had described to me on the phone as the worst day ever. Of course, it became infinitely better as he opened his little present and found out he would be a Daddy.

Next came our parents. I had the superb idea to buy a pewter baby album with a card in the front where a picture would be that said "Picture Available April 9th." My parents opened the gift and said "Thanks so much. Now where do you want to eat?" My superb idea backfired as they didn't read the card or notice the pewter baby bottles and pacifiers. So, we told them to look closer. Once they did, there is no other way to describe the reaction except pure, unadulterated shock. Once that wore off they were very happy and we all went out to eat and they talked about how excited they were for their first grandbaby.

Next came my brother and his wife. We gave them the same thing except as a picture frame instead of an album. They opened the gift and politely thanked us and then said they were not ready to have kids but would keep it for when they were. Superb idea backfire number 2. We had to re-explain the meaning of the gift to which they were relieved, happy for us and very glad that we were not trying to force them into familyhood.

Now for the real reason for this post, telling my in-laws. They had bought us plane tickets to travel to Houston for the weekend. I had flown lots in my life, all over the US and even overseas several times. I used to enjoy flying but something had changed over the last few years and I got very nervous during flights (this was even before 9/11). So I was already nervous but as we pulled up in a bus to the turboprop plane I told Scott I would not get on. Seriously does anyone take these anymore? They have propellers!!!! Scott gently coaxed me onto the death trap and I began to take long deep breaths. The pilot announced that the bathroom was not working on the plane which I took as a sign from God to get off the plane... I mean, come on I was pregnant. What are the chances I wasn't going to need to use the restroom??? Scott didn't agree with my vision from God, so we stayed on the plane. We took off, all was well and I calmed down for about 25 minutes when the lights began to flicker on the plane. Then they finally went off. About 3 minutes later the pilot came on board and said our plane was experiencing electrical power failure and we would be making an emergency landing at College Station. WHAT??? We had to burn off fuel first, and wouldn't you know it there was a huge electrical storm (ironic since our plane had no electrical power.) I can't even describe the next 2 hours without wanting to vomit. Our plane was like a badminton birdie. It dropped altitude, shot back up, did some sideways flips (but not a 360, as that would have killed me from heart failure), and lightening, hail, and rain were all around. We even were hit by lightening once, which I have since found out is not that uncommon for flying. The sound of thunder was like NOTHING I have ever experienced nor hope to experience again. I was positive that we were going to die. When we burned off enough fuel, we were told to get in our seats ready for an emergency landing and we nose dived toward the ground pulling up at the last minute and skidded down the runway a bit sideways and eventually off the runway slightly. According to the pilot, the runway at College Station is too short for large death trap turboprops which is why we had to nose dive to the runway then skid to a stop.

After that we were stuck on the plane for what seemed hours as I hyperventilated and told everyone who looked at me that I was pregnant and needed some space (I am claustrophobic-not a good condition anyway when flying.) When we got off the plane I calmly told Scott that I would not be flying anymore that night and would he kindly go get a rental car. The airline thought it could fix the problem so it didn't take our baggage off and Scott said we couldn't leave our bags and they would fix the plane and we'd get back on. Hours and hours and many tears later, the airline removed our baggage from the plane where I not so calmly asked to go get a rental car. And, of course, they were out of cars. However, Hell hath no fury like a tired, barely pregnant girl who will not fly. So we got a rent car. Finally arriving in Friendswood in the middle of the early morning, we went straight to bed with our pewter picture album. Luckily the next morning, no explanation was needed as my in-laws figured it out right away whereupon I was showered with sympathy and happiness.

The end of that story is that when we returned to the airport on Sunday, our flight was rescheduled twice which I took as a sign from God that I was not supposed to fly again. My kind in-laws took us to another airline and offered to buy two new tickets on a different flight altogether. However, I had already convinced myself that I had dodged death once and I would not put myself in it's path again. So after many more tears from me and frustration from Scott, we rented a car and drove home from Houston. I listened to the radio most of the way home waiting to hear news of the plane crash I had averted. Luckily for all those people on the flight, it didn't.

The last person we told was Scott's sister who was in Australia at the time. After all that drama, we just told her over the phone!

And for anyone wondering whether I will fly again... I've been on 6 flights since then. The last of which I had a flight attendant come sit by me for a while.