One week before Lucian and I were scheduled to depart for an International trip to Aruba, she came down with her first real sickness. She was running high fevers and we had a full on barf-o-rama on our hands. She was eight months old and I was worried! After a few days of trying to offer “supportive care” as recommended by the docs, (which just means to look on helplessly), I took her in to the emergency room in the middle of the night. They rans some tests, gave her IV fluids and basically blew me off.
“She just has a little bug.” – ER Docs
“SOMETHING is wrong!” – Newbie Mom Alana
“You’re just worried because she’s your first child and you haven’t been through this before. She’s fine” – Emergency Room Jerks
So following their advice, we went home and rested a few days. Thankfully, she seemed to be cheering up a little in the following days, so with a heart full of anxiety, my nerves on edge and tensions running high, I decided we would move ahead with the trip to Aruba.
The travel was filled with lots of crying and more restlessness than usual (from both of us), but sixteen hours of travel later, we finally made it. Within a few days of being on the island, I knew we were in trouble. Lucian popped a 105 degree fever that I could not get under control. I couldn’t keep any fluids in her and she had become super lethargic. At one point, she was sleeping on this giant bed, and I stood back and took this picture of her, just so I could remember how terrible this was and to NEVER do it again.
After I took the photo, I immediately crumpled into a heap on the floor, sobbing. Why did I come here? How could I have thought this was a good idea? Now what?! So, I spent the next few hours and a thousand dollars, re-booking all of our International flights, to leave the island early.
The flight back was worse…way worse! Inconsolable crying, massive blow out diapers, throwing up down my shirt…you get the idea. Once we made it back to the states, Lucian’s fever was so high and she was in such a terrible state that she was hospitalized for five days.
I starting blaming myself and thinking things like:
If I wouldn’t have went on the trip, she wouldn’t be this sick!
If I hadn’t been so selfish to take her 5,000 miles away, she wouldn’t be so worn out.
Why do I do this?
Why do I insist on putting her through all this travel?
This is my fault!
I’m never traveling with her again!
I was completely riddled with guilt while I went round and round in my mind.
I’m happy to report that after five days in the hospital, she made an excellent recovery. But with all that being said, our next trip was already looming. It just three weeks away. Every time I thought about it, I broke down. I could hardly pull myself together enough to book the flight. I was so conflicted about whether or not this travel life was the right thing for Lucian and I.
BUT, one day I woke up and decided that I had to get it together! No more sulking around, no more blaming myself and no more useless worrying!
I told myself these simple things:
- She’s better now.
- She’s stronger now.
- I’m smarter now.
- It’s ok to feel nervous.
- I can do this!
I just had to remember why I started this travel life in the first place. To be together!
I had to remember that no two trips are the same and remember that sometimes you just have to buck up and tackle something again. Armed with those five, short, simple mantras, I overcame the fear of traveling with her and bounced back from my terrible experience. I could have easily let that stress and worry paralyze me and keep me from traveling with my child but I’m so thankful that didn’t happen. Whatever your personal short phrases are, keep them close when you’re bouncing back from a bad trip.
Get back on the horse and move on because you can do this! It’s worth it!
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