Our first Thanksgiving as a family of four was a disaster. Fortunately, we did not have to host or cook anything, just show up and eat which is a dream come true. However, this train derailed only eight miles and one long hour into our unexpected journey. Yes, eight miles. Basically, I was Eminem. I knew that my baby would have to feed during the trip, so I began to pump about ten minutes in. This turned out to be problematic as my husband had issues with my milkshakes bringing all the motorists to the yard. My husband not only had to deal with heavy traffic, now he had to, as he put it, “keep our car staggered so no one is looking at your titties!!!” He was a bit overwhelmed. Then Kingston started wailing. Perfect timing. Screaming baby, terrible traffic, curious drivers, screaming husband, and only two drops of milk. Mind you I had been a mom for about 3 weeks so I hadn’t yet built up any sort of mental fortitude against an infant screaming.
The nearest exit was still about 15 minutes out of reach so there I sat, topless with a double pump, stuck in traffic, and honestly, getting a bit cold. By the time we pulled off the freeway into the fine establishment that is Jack in the Box I was ready to nurse that baby. I was a still a newbie nurser and it took a minute, like 45 of them. After what felt like a lifetime of staring at the dollar chinese restaurant across the street he finally finished and we were starving. Folks were attempting to enter in the restaurant but realized the doors were locked. By this time dinner at my in-laws had started and it was going to be another couple hours until we made it to their house. I pulled through the drive through and I heard the sweetest voice you could imagine offering msg and heart disease. I ordered a fine fare for my family and we were back on the road.
I convinced my husband to let me drive and kindly suggested he sit in the back with the kids to feed the older one and keep the baby calm. He obliged. I was feeling like a boss while licking my burger soaked fingers with one hand and simultaneously trying to “shhh” my baby from the driver’s seat as I strained to keep one eye on the road. For my first “trip” with a newborn I had no idea how easy it can run off the tracks. Thank you to NO ONE for warning me that curing cancer would have been easier than packing up kids and most notably a newborn for a “trip.”