Travel Stress

When I was on maternity leave in March, I was asked to be a co-presenter at the American Music Therapy Association's conference in November. Our date for presenting was set months ago for November 15th in the morning. Then, a month or so ago, we were told that Hester's finalization was scheduled for Friday November 16th at 8 in the morning. I made my travel plans to go to the conference on Wednesday, present Thursday morning, get on a plane, and get home before 10 PM. Sounds like a good plan, huh?



The presentation went well and I left the hotel early, giving myself more than two hours to go through security, find my gate, and relax. It all went well until the flight boarded a bit late, but I had almost an hour layover so it was still OK. Then we pulled out onto the tarmac and stopped. The pilot said we would be waiting there for 45 minutes to take off. This put me into Chicago 15 minutes late for my connecting flight. I called my airline from the tarmac to rearrange my connecting flight. While on hold for ever, the pilot said to turn off cell phones because we were about to take off.



The whole way to Chicago, I was thinking of what to do. What if I could not get a flight? Could I rent a car and get home in time for the adoption? If I got to the airport by 5:30 AM, I could take the commuter rail home, change into my suit from the day before, and be there on time. If I got in later, I could borrow one of my coworkers truck and drive to the court house, wearing my suit from the day before. What if I could not be there? Would my wife or daughter ever forgive me for missing it? Could I ever forgive myself? What a horrible mother I am!



I got to Chicago and called the airline again. The woman found me the last seat on the next flight. As she told me I had a seat, I started to cry. I told her that I had to get home for my daughter's adoption and thanked her a zillion times. People in the airport must have thought I was crazy for I was still crying as I walked to the next concourse where my new flight was to take off from.

By the time I arrived, my flight had been delayed until 8:30 PM from 7:20 PM. Over the next hour and a half, it was delayed to 9:40 PM and the gate was changed twice and the concourse changed once. My concern then became will I get home in time for the shuttle service ride home. Their last shuttle is at 12:15 AM. The flight would make it, just barely.

We boarded the plane 30 minutes late and then the plane just sat there for another 45 minutes. I knew it would arrive later than 12:15 AM. Clementine had said to call her if I needed a ride home and she and Hester would come get me. I did not want to do that. Luckily, when I landed, I called the shuttle service and they were waiting for me outdoors. I booked it to the shuttle and got home at 2 AM.

I was thrilled that I made it home in time, that I was not a bad mother, and that I could share this very special day with my family, Hester and Clementine.