Member-only story
Babies Get Jet Lag Too
Culture shock in my home country
Baby’s first flight is a transatlantic: ten hours over the pole from London to Seattle. It’s February, so we’re changing one gray sky for another — but it’ll be chipped trails rather than cobblestones beneath our feet; forest rather than city.
These seats at the airplane’s bulkhead were assigned to us because it’s the one place the bassinet goes. A table fits onto the wall, and a padded box straps to the top.
The flight attendant grins in delight at his successful installation of the contraption. “First try!”
He’s already warned us that it’s usually a bit of a show: all the seats face forward towards our baby, and he’s perfect viewing height for the bathroom line.
Because my three-month baby is nine-month sized, the airplane bassinet is comically small — other than a bit of kicking time, hammocked in the box, Robert and I just pass him between us.
Luckily, our baby is pretty tractable. He only has one little meltdown on the flight, and every fuss is solvable with a feed. People are still telling us he’s cute as they file past after landing.
As a mixed-citizenship family, we all have to go through the “foreigner” line in my home country. The baby and I are citizens, but my husband is here on a “B”…
