Additional Coverage:
- My baby screamed during a flight, and I broke all my parenting rules trying to soothe her. A stranger still told me I was a good mom. (businessinsider.com)
Surviving a Cross-Country Flight with a Toddler: One Mom’s Story
Somewhere over the Midwest, my daughter’s cries reached a fever pitch. Four hours into our cross-country flight, we were deep in meltdown territory.
Her ear-splitting screams resonated throughout the cabin, uniting fellow passengers in shared misery. I didn’t blame her.
She had just learned to walk and being stuck on a plane for six hours during her bedtime was less than ideal. We were moving across the country, away from everything she knew.
My husband was driving with the U-Haul and our dog (bless his heart), leaving me to navigate this flight solo with our toddler.
The unsolicited advice started pouring in. “Let me hold her,” a woman offered, reaching for my daughter.
What I heard was, “You’re doing it wrong.” My daughter, predictably, clung tighter and screamed louder.
Even the flight attendant, initially warm and welcoming, began avoiding eye contact.
I cycled through every soothing technique I could remember. Bouncing, singing, retrieving dropped pacifiers, covering her ears during pressure changes – nothing worked. I felt the weight of all the parenting advice I’d absorbed, and the pressure to be perfect.
As my patience dwindled, I caved and turned on a Ms. Rachel video.
A wave of guilt washed over me. Screen time!
So much for being the perfect mom. I mixed a bottle of formula, another parenting “fail” in my mind.
Breast is best, they say. When we ran out of organic puffs, I resorted to emergency snacks – the kind with artificial ingredients I swore I’d never give her.
When the captain announced our descent, I could have cried with relief. Just 30 more minutes.
We landed in Seattle at midnight, her body clock convinced it was 3 a.m. I practically sprinted off the plane, trailing annoyed passengers behind us.
As we waited for our ride, my daughter finally quieted, slumping against my chest, exhausted. I looked at her – tired, tear-streaked, and still sucking on the pacifier we were supposed to be weaning her off of – and questioned my every parenting decision. Had I ruined her for life with this stressful move and flight?
Just then, a woman who had been seated near us on the plane approached. I braced myself for criticism.
Instead, she offered a simple, heartfelt, “You’re a great mom.” Tears welled up as I looked down at my daughter, her small hand in mine, our tired eyes meeting in a shared smile.
In that moment, I remembered that even amidst the chaos, I am her safe place. And maybe, just maybe, that’s enough.