Cars, Planes, and Trains… with a Baby

Get this: we’re at the airport with baby Phoenix. We’ve been there for all of fifteen minutes, and have just checked in for our flight to France, where we plan to spend the next month introducing him to his French side of the family. Phoenix gets a bit fussy, so I take him to a quiet corner of the airport to nurse him. Two minutes later I hear a ppprrrrrrttttt… He has pooped through his diaper, sleeper and onto my [mercifully] black clothes.

I don’t think I’ve brought enough diapers or sleepers in our carry-on. We have a 24-hour journey ahead of us that involves planes, trams, trains and cars. Was this explosive start to the trip a foreshadow of what was to come?

Preparing for the Trip

I was really anxious about flying with Phoenix. In his first months of life, we had barely left the house, and when we had, we had found it more complicated than expected. The mass of stuff we had to lug around on outing, the endless pit-stops for nursing and diaper changes, the car-seat and car-ride-related meltdowns… It was just easier to stay home.

Suffice to say, then, that Bruno and I hadn’t had much practice in the travel-with-baby department.

To counter this, we decided to prepare as best we could for the journey. We imagined the most complicated part – getting from the airport to the train station and into the train with baby and luggage. So, even though we were allowed an extra suitcase and carry-on for Phoenix, we opted to bring only what our four hands could carry. That meant two backpacks as carry-on luggage, two rolling suitcases , and a stroller.

At least half our luggage was for Phoenix (think 30 reusable cloth diapers!), and our carry-ons were loaded with four extra sleepers (the easiest clothing to put on in a pinch), toys, books, swaddle blankets, two baby carriers, and 12 disposable diapers for the flight. I was very happy Phoenix is a breastfed baby, as we didn’t need to calculate the amount of formula we’d need for the journey – it was already enough trouble to calculate the amount of diapers and clothing changes (and, as the scenario above illustrates, I underestimated in both cases).

Phoenix had never been in a stroller, and he is the type of baby who needs a bit of time to warm up to something new, we knew we didn’t want his first time in the stroller to be at the airport. When we received it, we wheeled him around my parents’ home, and took him out as soon as he fussed. The next day, we went for a walk outside (I ended up holding him for about half that walk). By the time we left for the airport a few days later, Phoenix had been on 5 walks, had fallen asleep in the stroller once, and looked happy and comfortable inside. Score!

From Canada to France at 3 Months Old

The theme of this section of the trip was boob. Phoenix was so overwhelmed by the noise on the flights and the commotion at the Montreal Airport that, for the entire 7-hour overseas flight, he clung to my breast. The few times I tried passing Phoenix to Bruno so I could rest more comfortably (it was a red-eye) or go to the bathroom, Phoenix cried. We realized he simply needed my reassurance and comfort. I wasn’t comfortable (!) but I was very grateful, again, to be a nursing mama. And at least changing pressure during take off and landing were non-issues for Phoenix!

Near the end of the flight, we were able to place Phoenix in his swaddles on my seat, and Bruno and I took turns walking up and down the aisle while the other sat. We had tried to reserve the bulkhead seats so we could access one of two baby bassinets this flight offered, but another passenger had paid extra to reserve those roomier seats. I was appalled that Air Canada would sell those seats to the highest bidder rather than providing them to parents of infants.

From Lyon, we picked up our luggage and took a tram to the train station, where we had to wait a few hours for our train. The train station was even more chaotic than the Montreal airport. There was only one small [paying] bathroom area with no change tables, and there was hardly any seating space to rest or nurse. Luckily, we found a service called S.O.S. Voyageurs run by a few old ladies – they had a change table and allowed us to spend a couple hours in their tiny lounge until our train arrived. Thank goodness, too, because Phoenix had three back-to-back giant poops!

Though getting all our luggage onto the train was a challenge, the train ride was probably the easiest portion of the journey. On some segments, we had an entire cabin to ourselves (the train service in France is on partial strike so the trains were empty!) allowing us to spread out, play, use the stroller, and do diaper-changes on location. On the longest train ride, Phoenix was once again glued to my breast, where he slept and ate quietly almost the entire journey.

Overall, the journey had been easier (though still stressful and complicated) than I’d imagined, mainly because Phoenix had been so overwhelmed that he was fairly easy to manage. During the times he wasn’t – when we were on the move in airports and train stations – we were very grateful to have our baby carrier. Phoenix finds refuge and sleep more easily when in his orange wrap than anywhere else, so the baby carrier provided a practical, hands-free reset for him while we dealt with luggage and transit. Our stroller, while useful at times, was more often than not a backpack carrier than anything.

The Return Journey, with a Four-Month Old

You know how they say that, with a baby, as soon as you’ve figured things out, they change? Well, that was the theme of our return journey.

Since Phoenix had been so overwhelmed by plane and travel travel a few weeks earlier, we expected him to, once again, cling to my breast and hover between sleeping and nursing the entire trip.

He did the complete opposite.

First, we took a train north, from Montpellier to Lyon. Phoenix was wide awake and wanting a lot of attention. He refused to nurse and refused to sleep. But he also didn’t want to stay put in our arms or seat. Every few minutes we had to change his position and activity. Talk about a high-maintenance baby!

At the Lyon airport, Phoenix was also wide awake, and looking less traumatized than in Montreal a month earlier. I’m guilty of wishing that he’d become overwhelmed by the hubbub so that he’d nestle himself into the safety of my breast for the return flight. I’d learned on the train ride that, even though I’m less comfortable with a baby stuck onto me for an entire journey, it’s a lot less work!

My wish was not granted. Phoenix was just as high-maintenance on the plane as he’d been on the train – only this time, the journey was much longer! Thankfully we had managed to secure the bulkhead seats, along with the baby bassinet, for the Lyon-Montreal flight, so I was able to get him down for two little naps (although during turbulence I had to pull him out and hold him). And we also luckily had an empty middle seat which we used to change Phoenix’ position and activity every couple of minutes. So, we were more comfortable and better equipped for this flight.

But I don’t know if it was because Phoenix was older, it was daytime, or if, after all the trains and planes, he was no longer traumatized by them, but he didn’t need refuge on my breast. In fact, he didn’t want to nurse at all, even during takeoff and landing, so I ended up sticking my finger in his mouth so he would suck on something to help him equalize.

He also had several more explosive poops, dirtying three sleepers almost back-to-back (almost always during turbulence or landing, when we couldn’t go change him right away!). Not to gross you out or anything, but during our journey a month earlier, Phoenix had had 8 poops in that 24-hour period, and this time he’d had 4 on a 7-hour flight. Either it’s a coincidence that he had a tummy ache each time (maybe stress-related?) or something about the altitude and air pressure made him a pooping machine!

A Note About Jet Lag

In our experience, Phoenix suffered more from jet lag on the return trip, or the westbound trip. Perhaps it was just the timing of our flights, but by the time we arrived at Bruno’s brother’s place in France around 6pm the following day, Phoenix was so exhausted that he passed out for the night almost immediately. This meant that he acclimatized to the local time fairly quickly. Maybe he was a bit more wakeful at night for a week or so, but he definitely didn’t go through any day and night confusion.

On the way home, we arrived around 5pm local time, and by the time we got Phoenix to bed for the night it was almost midnight in France. Contrary to what some people might think, when a baby goes to sleep late, they don’t sleep in the next morning. Because Phoenix’ internal clock was on France time, he wanted to wake up in the morning… on France time. It didn’t help that we are on the longest days of the year and that our bedroom here doesn’t get dark. It took several days to get Phoenix to sleep in until 6:30am, and as I write these words a week after our return, his nights are wonky.

What We’ve Learned about Travel with a Baby

Jet lag is real. And when your baby has jet lag, yours takes forever to go away.

Pack more diapers and sleepers than you imagine you could ever need. Your baby might have explosive-poop-in-air syndrome, too, and that way you’ll avoid having to blow dry baby clothes in the airport bathroom!

That being said, pack as lightly as possible. Unless you are going straight from a car to a plane and to a car. Which I’d recommend.

Strollers are very useful for travel. Baby carriers are even better. Have both.

Babies are heavy. And needy. Four arms are barely enough for one baby.

Airports and train stations are not made for babies. It’s hard to find a quiet, discrete place to nurse, and almost impossible to find a change table. So get comfortable with having your boobs and your baby’s poopy private parts out in the open!

If your baby is a good night sleeper but a bad napper, try to book red eye flights. You’ll have more luck keeping baby asleep. A sleeping baby is a low-maintenance baby. An angel, really. God, I love a sleeping baby.

So, Would We Fly With a Baby Again?

The short answer is, of course. We have no choice. We live away from our families, so air travel, train travel, and overseas travel will be a yearly part of our lives.

But, if we didn’t have to travel to see our families? Like, if we lived in the same cities and only needed to take trains and planes for fun? Hell, no!

Maybe that’s jet-lagged Brittany talking. But, honestly, it was exhausting (as if overseas travel isn’t exhausting enough). Phoenix was overwhelmed, I felt terrible for putting him through the trip, and it took us long enough to recover that a fun short holiday would have been marred by jet lag.

The long answer is this: Train travel isn’t so bad. The seats are larger and at least you can walk around the aisles anytime you want. Short flights are fine, too. A fussy, high-maintenance baby isn’t the end of the world for a couple hours. If the trip has to be long, break it up into smaller segments and have an excuse to transit in a new place. If god-forbid, the flight needs to be long, make it a north-south trip so jet lag isn’t a factor. And if, like us, your family lives in a faraway time zone, convince them to fly to you instead!