• Anxious mother dreads her kid’s reaction to strain of journey as well as resettling
Part one
I remember writing about all the things I would do as a first-time mum. I wrote about subverting traditions and moving forward with the lifestyle I envisioned for my family.
One of the things I spoke about was my wish to continue living my life as I did before I had a kid. I wanted to continue travelling as I did before. I imagined picture-perfect vacations with a cute little one playing on a white, sandy beach…
Some readers called me out on my fantasy. They shared their own horror stories about travelling with babies. Yet somehow, I was not convinced. However, as they say, experience is the best teacher, and I have learnt my lesson.
My little family had a sudden trip that forced us to travel halfway across the world, which meant several flights, many hours of flying and more hours in transit.
As my child had just gone through a rough time adjusting to the new home we were in, my mind was laser focused on his adjustment at our destination. The trip, I imagined, would be hard, but adjusting my one-year-old to a different life in a country far from where he was born was my main concern.
He had only grown up around family, grandparents, cousins, uncles, aunts and endless relatives who would pop in and out of his life. He had been raised in an environment that surrounded him with people, but for the first time in his life, it would be just us three. The thought haunted me.
Meanwhile, while I was busy consumed with my own thoughts of how life was about to change, our flight itinerary almost went up in flames as the Kenya Airways pilots went on strike. You see, our journey would have taken 24 hours from start to finish. The first leg of our journey was operated by KQ.
Just like that, I swung into action and got us on the last train out of Mombasa. Instead of a 40-minute flight, our journey had now gained a six-hour train ride and 14 hours of transit time! The situation was less than ideal for me as an adult, but I was nervous about how my one-year-old would take it.
Surprisingly, little man took it like a champ! After his refreshing nap on the taxi ride to the train station, he stayed up late into the journey. He had a wonderful time chasing the bright lights in the terminal and looking out the window at the full moon. In his restricted movement, he learnt that he could do the splits! He has been doing them ever since!
Finally, some minutes past midnight, he fell into a deep slumber in my arms. Even after arriving at our first stopover, there was a long journey still ahead of us. I wondered if it would be anything like the first leg of the journey. Perhaps it could be easier?