Baby's First Flight

In September, a package arrived from headquarters. We are accustomed to birthday cards, anniversary cards and even plants and other gifts from our company's CEO and President. We met one another working as flight attendants, and when we got married we even got a wedding gift from the executive office. But what had we done to deserve this gift?

Upon closer inspection, I noticed that the package wasn't for me or my husband, but for our newborn son. As I peeled back the packaging, I uncovered a pair of silver wings engraved with our son's name. It was a homecoming gift, a welcome to the world offering. It was such an honor for our baby to be welcomed into our airline family that way.

I flew approximately 35,000 miles per month while I was pregnant, from those queasy first months all the way to my sweltering thirtieth week. My baby was a bona fide frequent flier before he was even born. When he turned seven weeks old, we knew it was time to pack our things and head north to grandma and grandpa's.

When we strolled up to the ticket counter is was as if all the planes stopped flying. Agents from end to end left their posts to meet our little one while paying customers were left looking bewildered. Our sweet boy gazed up at the world and smiled, showing off his new shiny wings that I pinned to his onesie.

We slogged through security checkpoint, which we normally zip right through. Our baby train of car seat parts, stroller, diaper bag, electronics and other carry-ons inched through the x-ray. We finally had everything reassembled after what felt like an endless inspection, and our little angel slept through the whole thing.

On our way down the concourse I waved at friends I hadn't seen since leaving work. We bumped into a flight attendant I flew with late in my pregnancy who gave me advice on all sorts of new baby topics-she had been a post-natal nurse in her previous career. Everyone from the customer service supervisors to ramp agents approached us to ooh and ahh over our baby. He was the star of the day.

When we boarded our plane, dad got the car seat base installed and we all settled in together. Baby's eyes grew droopy as we taxied to the runway. And then as the pilots throttled the engines for takeoff, my son looked up at me with great big eyes and a perplexed expression. I had to laugh at him, his little cheeks wobbled in time to the plane's rumbling down the runway. As we lifted off, he glanced out the window for a moment before catching a few more Z's.

After we landed we introduced ourselves to the first officer who was working in the cockpit. I thought it would be a nice souvenir of baby's first flight if we could capture a photo of him sitting in the captain's seat. The first officer graciously consented and we placed our still sleeping baby at the helm. We can now confidently say that our son was asleep at the wheel on his very first flight.