how to travel overseas with an infant (part iii)

In case you didn't remember that I was writing this (since I wrote part 1 and part 2 last year), you might want to review. Just so it all makes sense, and not because you're actually trying to glean something from this :)

When we got back from Texas, Berlin's passport was in the mailbox, two weeks before takeoff. Which was nice, because then it was one less thing to stress over. And I had plenty to stress over.

I just wanted to make sure we had everything we could possibly think of needing. Extra clothes, extra diapers, extra wipes, extra formula, extra blankets, stain remover so I could get vomit and poop stains out when we got home...

Our bag was over the weight limit, don't worry.

Our first flight, to JFK, was about 4 hours. We woke Berlin up to go to the airport, and he fell asleep right as we were taking off in Salt Lake. This was great for Jeremy and I, since neither of us know how to pack until very late the night before flights that are very early the next morning. I would like to say Berlin, Jeremy, and I enjoyed sleeping the whole way to New York. Berlin did. Jeremy and I learned that trying to sleep while trying to hold an infant still enough to sleep is no easy feat. And for us proved mostly impossible. 

So, evidently, this is how I spent my time during our layover. I don't remember most of it.

We boarded our plane to Frankfurt around 5 or 6 in the evening, and Berlin, who'd been awake during most of the layover, was acting like he was ready to sleep. We hoped it would be as smooth and seamless for him to fall asleep and stay asleep all the way to Frankfurt as it was to New York. 

Everybody walking past us to board the plane was commenting on how cute he was, how smiley he was, etc. Jeremy took him to the restroom to change his diaper so that he was clean and could fall asleep during nursing/takeoff without us needing to worry about his diaper. He did nurse during takeoff.  But then he didn't fall asleep. And instead, started to scream. 

We had no idea what to do. He wouldn't continue to nurse, he wouldn't take a bottle, even being held (while standing) didn't have the calming effect that it usually had. After a few cycles of picking him up, trying a bottle again, patting his back to see if he would burp, laying him on our laps, panicking, and wondering how much our neighbors hated us (all of this lasted about an hour and a half), Jeremy took Berlin back into the bathroom. At this point Berlin was alternating between crying and screaming, and fortunately, it was more crying than screaming, but it the bathroom, it was so incredibly muffled. I'm the baby's mom, I know what his cry sounds like and I know how to hear it, but I had to listen hard for it while they were in the bathroom. As it turns out, you just can't hear a lot of noise from inside the bathroom if you are outside the bathroom. Who knew? Jeremy gently bounced Berlin in his arms until he'd completely stopped crying, which took another half an hour. While the boys were in the bathroom, I was panicking in my seat, wondering how we were going to get Berlin to sleep, how we were going to sleep and not be exhausted when we landed in the morning the following day in Germany, and how we're going to avoid scowls and glares from our fellow passengers, when I realized that the faint crying had stopped. I looked over to the restrooms and saw Jeremy coming out with a very quiet baby. He was still awake, but not making any noise. Jeremy handed me Berlin, he snuggled up against me, started to nurse, and was asleep within 10 minutes of the boys coming out of the bathroom. 

He proceeded to sleep for the rest of the 8-hour flight (6 hours), then through customs, and all the way to our host's house, for a total of 8 hours of sleep.

I don't get it. I don't even pretend to know what was wrong and what calmed him down. But I'm keeping the airplane bathroom idea in my back pocket.

We had a fabulous time in Germany. Berlin adjusted to the time difference beautifully because he slept so long on the airplane. He started sleeping through the night while we were there, which was wonderful; he had just barely turned 3 months old and I expected that sleeping through the night would take much longer. And it made for a pleasant trip all the way around.

Visiting a castle. And loving being toted around. About an hour later, he pooped through his clothes and all over the carrier, but whatever.

Berlin with our host's mom, Ruthilde. 

She and her husband adored having Berlin to play with and dote on. 

We loved it too.

Uncle Lee got to make this trip with us too. 

I think he had just landed in this pic, but he was a good enough sport to hold Berlin in his groggy state.

Who wouldn't have a great trip being pushed around in a miniature sleeping bag?!

(Okay, so maybe it drowned him a little bit, but this is borrowed. Now we want one.)