Sometimes miracles do happen

When working towards a goal for many years, and it is still not reached, it's not uncommon to lose faith. And at one point you stop talking about it with friends and family, because it is just not that interesting to talk about, to mention yet another failure. That job that you thought was going to happen, that achievement, that one and only person you wanted to meet, fall in love with, it just doesn't materialize. At first the friends and family are encouraging, telling you it will happen. Things will happen and you will reach your goal. Because you deserve it, or because you are worth it. But then their voices vane and you are left with the persistence in your head and nothing else. And it is all up to you to continue the fight. But the thing is, I did. I persisted month after month, method after method. And after almost four years of continuous fertility treatment I finally got pregnant. In fact I'm already 25 weeks tomorrow and have a kicking baby-boy inside my belly, growing and waiting patiently to come out and see his big sister and his mom by the beginning of the summer.

It was an emotional roller-coaster from the day I realized my period was not coming and that I should probably skip the beer I had just been offered. I was in chock for a week, before I took the test, watching the two lines appear and then another week later told my mom and Zoe, watching their tears of joy. I was hesitant to tell anybody else and I was hesitant to feel secure in my pregnancy. I prayed to god every evening that he would protect me and the little growing miracle inside of me. If something takes so long, it can't be real, can it? It was not until week 14 where I started thinking it is very likely that there will come a baby out of this in the end. I might actually have a second child. Zoe will finally have a little sibling. Meanwhile she takes it with the ease of a 6 year old, randomly holding my belly, putting her ear to it and getting kicked in her hand. "It's a foot, I can feel a foot!" she says excitedly and starts talking to him. "I'm your big sister and I can't wait until you come out and we can play." I'm hoping that she understands how boring babies are initially and how much time her mom needs to spend with the baby at first. But I did, those many years ago when I got a little brother, so I'm sure Zoe will be just fine. I'm cautiously optimistic.

With my growing belly comes a lot of new issues into play that I've spent the better part of my days and nights pondering. I'll share some of them here as time moves on, but right now I realized that I cannot continue chronicling Flybaby without sharing the most important news in our lives, that there will soon be a Flybaby II.

Missing flights

It was the thing that just wasn't suppose to happen in our crazy traveling life. As I left security control on my way to the gate, about to board the plane back to Copenhagen after a 48 hour visit to see the new very-important-person in my life, I got a call from from the babysitter. "They didn't let Zoe board because we didn't have the UM papers printed", she said in a cheerful voice, and it took me all of three seconds to realize this was a tone chosen not to worry Zoe who was right next to her. "But we are good, we will figure something out". A cold chill ran down my spine as I went into physical robot mode walking straight to my gate at the far end were they were now boarding. In a clear couple of sentences, almost faster than I could think, I told her that she needed to get to Copenhagen that evening, No. Matter. What. Even if the babysitter had to take her herself. Her dad was on a plane to Japan, our only other friend who can really look after her overnight was already in Japan and I could not imagine not seeing Zoe tonight. Especially now. "Find a way", I finished and hung up, trying not to panic, as I texted my mom letting her know that she didn't have to pick her up at the arranged time. I would land just 20 minutes later, not enough to meet Zoe at the exit as required for unaccompanied minors. Just before entering my own plane I received a text from the babysitter informing me that they had been able to buy a new ticket for the next flight and Zoe had been allowed to fly UM. I guess suddenly they did have papers to fill in at the airport*. I turned off my phone knowing that Zoe would be arriving in Copenhagen 20 minutes after me and I would be able to greet her at the gate. And that I would be writing the harshest complaint letter to SAS in the morning demanding an apology for the stress and worry inflicted on my daughter, as well as a refund for the extra ticket.

*I know for sure that they are able to do this because she arrived with these papers once, after being dropped off by her dad, who apparently had forgotten the pre-printed papers.