Monthly Archives: August 2008

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I’m still not over it.

We were eating dinner Saturday night, grilled chicken breast, mushroom flavored pilaf and broccoli, when Husband’s throat started seizing. He went to the kitchen sink and tried to throw up but nothing came out. He raced around the house in pain and asked for cold water.

He could breathe, but food was caught in his esophagus causing his chest to feel like razors were slicing him inside.

I saw the situation only getting worse and asked if I should call 911.

He said, “Yes,” which was not the answer I wanted to hear. In my mind, I wanted him to say ‘no’ so everything would be okay.

As I was reaching for the phone, I asked if he wanted me to do the Heimlich.

He said, “Yes!”

I leapt into action and in one thrust, propelled the food out.

I was secretly so proud of myself and relieved that he was breathing normally.

But, good night, that freaked me out. Once the situation calmed down and we realized what had just happened, we were able to laugh that he had broccoli in his nose.

But, really, the rest of th night, there was a huge elephant sitting in the room with a Heimlich tee shirt on.

She don’t like it.

Maybe I have memories of my brother digging into his first dish of rice cereal with wild abandon or maybe I just imagined his enthusiasm for those off-white, airy flakes. But, my girl, she’s not a fan of rice cereal or baby oatmeal.

We celebrated her first feeding of solids on a Saturday a few days before her half birthday but Lolo didn’t see what all the fuss was about. In fact, I think she would have preferred that we skipped the whole ceremony. She made the most expressive face of disgust I have ever seen and only made it through two spoonfuls before we decided to abandon ship.

The doctor suggested that we try oatmeal and then barley which she may like better. So, this morning, I tried a bit of oatmeal with her. As soon as she saw that familiar dish and spoon, she made the yucky face before the muck even made it to her mouth. I think I’ll wait a few days and give her a break from torture.

This is yet another occasion where I began composing the blog post in my head as the ludicrous events unfolded. On my imaginary MacBook, I included all of the expletives, but since there is a great grandmother out there reading, I will refrain from using foul language.

It all started out simply enough. We went to a wedding in Florida over the weekend and it was lovely. Our dear friend, Sunny, from Duke was getting married and we knew we couldn’t miss it. We got there fine, hung out and experienced the incredible traditions of an Indian wedding. My mom even came to babysit Lolo so we could attend the evening festivities. Fabulous.

The highlight for me was leading the groom (who was riding a horse at the time) to the bride’s family so they could welcome him into their hearts. The best part was that the whole ceremony was set to music, which meant that a guy with an enormous drum followed behind a Nissan Pathfinder pumping out taped Indian music.

Then we needed to leave Florida.

We arrived at the airport at 11:30 am with an enormous amount of baggage and baby supplies. Our flight was at 2:35 pm so we had plenty of time to spare. But, upon check-in, we learned that the flight was delayed. My mom had already left for VA earlier that morning so she was golden.

I will skip ahead through the pain and just tell you that at 8:30 pm, our flight was finally canceled after hours upon hours of continuous delays. Yes, that’s 9 whole hours in an airport with a baby. Thank god for my family once again. At about 4pm, I overheard some business travelers trying to make contingency plans. They were thinking of flying into Philly and driving to NJ by sharing a car. While the weather on the East Coast was stormy and Jet Blue seemed to be grounded, Southwest Airlines was flying in and out the entire time without any issues. And, they had a flight going out to Philadelphia at 9pm that night.

So, I called Mama Mayo and she set to click, click, click’in on that magical Internet. She got us on the Southwest flight with fully refundable tickets “just in case”. We just kept thinking we wouldn’t need Plan B. They kept updating the Jet Blue flight with, “We’ll take off in another 25 minutes.” But, when you add all those 25 minutes up, it turned into nine hours.

So, as soon as the Jet Blue flight was canceled, we hightailed it over to the Southwest desk and asked if our luggage could be transferred. She frowned and said they didn’t do that from one airline to another and that we would have to claim the baggage, recheck it and go through security again! Oy. Matt tried to do it but Jet Blue never released our bags. It was pandemonium down there and there was no sign that they were getting things under control anytime soon. Matt even heard that the next available seats to Newark weren’t until Wednesday.

In the end, we knew we had to get out of Florida.

So, we took a leap of faith and got on the Southwest flight knowing we would be without our belongings indefinitely. While we were in the air, my mom booked a car service to drive us from Philly to NJ since we would not be getting in until midnight. They said they had an infant seat, which we had to have because Lolo’s car seat was checked with Jet Blue. While my mom was on the phone, I was drinking red wine out of a plastic cup and straw. It was lovely.

We landed in Philly and then almost lost it. We got off the plane and were ready to just sink into the seats of the Town Car and sleep for two hours while someone else drove us home. But, the limo guy wasn’t versed in the difference between infant car seats and booster seats.

I cried but Matt just turned on the juice again and found a rental agency with an available car and car seat. My brother talked us through the directions over the phone at 1 am, and we arrived home in NJ at 3 o’clock in the morning without a car seat of our own, the Pack N’Play Lolo sleeps in, her clothes, everything.

Thank god for miracles though. Somehow with a total of 800 calls from Susan Mayo and myself to Jet Blue’s baggage department, they found our bags buried at the Orlando airport. They were back in our possession Tuesday night and I did the happy dance all over our house!

Thank you, thank you!!!

We did not take any photos at the airport.