The Ups and Downs of My Christmas Journey

It was snowing in Chicago the Tuesday before Christmas. It was snowing a lot. My husband, and I had a leisurely breakfast and finished packing before the adventure began.

Hubby broke two ice scrapers trying to prepare the car for the trip to the airport. (We hadn't moved the car for several days and each of those days involved snow, ice, and subzero windchill, resulting in quite a wintry armor.) He managed to create a relatively safe level of visibility before we headed out. The roads were not yet plowed, even the major ones, making our drive to the airport much longer than expected. For once it was nice to receive the update from the airline that our plane was delayed. We wouldn't have made it otherwise.

When we arrived at long term parking it was also snowed over. Spaces without cars in them were filled with piles of snow and ruts of ice. We worked our way in to a spot hoping we'd be able to get back out when we returned.

On the train to the terminal we got the message: Our flight was cancelled. At the terminal we joined the others in a very long line at customer service. Meanwhile, hubby was on the phone with the airline as well. After 2 and 1/2 hours on hold (and still standing in line), he got a fuzzy connection to a real human being, albeit on the other side of the world. We were confirmed for flights the next day (Christmas Eve), but we were confirmed on separate flights. (A detail that the phone person didn't even bother to mention until hubby specifically thought to ask about my reservation when the conversation seemed geared toward one person.)

Although we were happy to have confirmed flights, we were not happy about being separated. We were scheduled to arrive 6 hours apart, and that's if we both managed to get their without our flights being cancelled. I couldn't help but cry as I began to dread the thought of ending up in separate cities for Christmas. (Plus, if the earlier flight made it and mine did not, my husband would be alone with my family, which would likely be awkward.)

We decided to continue to wait in the line (We were getting so close!) to see if there was any way to get on the same flight even if it meant adding legs to what had been a direct flight. We were told that there was nothing to do other than come in the morning and put me on the stand by list and hope.

We were, however, given a coupon for discounted hotel stays (after being told that the airline won't pay for hotel rooms related to weather delays). We decided to spend the money rather than drive home. The roads were still awful; we may or may not have been able to pull out of our parking space; we'd have to ready the car without a working ice scraper; and we'd just have to do it again in the morning. So we caught the shuttle to the hotel. We bought an overpriced dinner. But we were together. At least for that night.

We didn't sleep well, likely a combination of the worry about the next day's logistics, the less than premium bed, and the sound of planes flying overhead. We got up extra early and went to the airport.

We each checked in at the kiosks and added me to the waitlist for the earlier flight. Then we went to customer service to see if hubby could use his *status* to move me up in the list. I am glad that hubby doesn't travel for work anymore, but it will be sad when his elevated *status* with the airlines disappears. We will have to go back to using the regular security lines and boarding after the half the plane has. Sadness. However, in this case, there was nothing he could do. We were told that I was number 14 in the waitlist. The lady at the desk said that was pretty good, at least better than number 47 (the total number on the list).

So we waited by in the gate area. I watched the monitor for waitlist updates. By the time we were nearing the scheduled boarding time I was up to number 3. At least that would give me a good position for the waitlist on the following flight (which would still get me there earlier than my scheduled flight). Still, I didn't want to be separated from my husband.

The two names in front of me were called. Then a pause. So close! Then they called me. I rushed to desk lest they change their mind. I now had a boarding pass. I would be on the same plane as my husband. That is if a plane arrived. It was past boarding time and the jetway was connected to an empty space. But then a plane arrived. We might get there after all.

Then, they called my hubby to the desk. Uh-oh? No. His *status* got him upgraded to first class. And, my sweet and loving husband, told me we would trade seats. My enlarged and tired pregnant body would get the extra space. I love him so much.

We boarded. Hubby went to the back, to my cramped middle coach seat. I stayed up front...but someone was in my seat. We verified on our ticket stubs. We were both assigned that seat. We handed the stubs to the flight attendant, and I began to worry that I would not be on the flight after all, much less first class. But the man in the seat told the FA that he didn't mind giving up the seat as long as there was a seat for him on the plane. They found a coach seat and he moved. This stranger did not make a fuss. He just volunteered to move. Whether it was because I'm pregnant or because it was Christmas or because he just wanted to get moving on one of the busiest travel days of the year, he volunteered to move. Gentlemen exist (see, also, prior paragraph about husband).

So I got to ride in first class. Of course, one of the perqs of first class is free booze, which is not very useful to me at this time. I asked a flight attendant to send my free drinks back to the two gentlemen who facilitated my being able to sit there: my husband and the stranger.

Just about 24 hours later than originally planned, my husband and I TOGETHER arrived at our destination. In time for Christmas. We stayed up late that night to open gifts after my parents returned from Midnight Mass (a tradition). There were gifts for those fully present and some for the critter. We spent time visiting my parents and grandparents. We ate a lot. It was a nice few days.

Our return trip was delayed a bit for fog, which seemed silly since it looked significantly nicer out than what we had flown in on Christmas Eve. While waiting my husband asked a silly question, "Would you like me to see if I can get us upgraded to first class?" I answered as one would expect. He was able to use his last two upgrade vouchers in the last few weeks of his *status* to get us upgraded to two first class seats right next to each other. We flew back in style, holding hands, and kissing, and being us. We were going home together.

Luckily, the days following the departure had been kind. It was cold upon our arrival, but earlier days of warmth had melted all the snow. No scraping needed. We drove home.

Besides the the stress of travel, there was another toll to the trip. There was tons of food including desserts at seemingly every meal. There was very little exercise other than walking around my Grandparents' land. When I weighed myself this morning for the first time in almost a week I found that I gained almost 5 pounds. Eek. Now it is time to get back to healthier eating and Bikram and Versaclimbing. I've been a little ahead of schedule on weight gain but nothing too extreme. I don't want to get out of control in the third trimester! Yes, less than 3 months to go little critter!