And that was a good flight

When my daughter was just over a month old I had to fly back to my parents home for a funeral. I dreaded the flight but had no choice in the matter. My husband dropped me off at the airport barely on time. I thought ok. It is only a 45 minute flight. I rushed through everything and made it to the gate. I waited until the last minute to board the plane since Iwould have to take her out of her carseat and she was fast asleep. All was good so far. I join the end of the line and have the bucket checked. Still sleeping. I walk to the end of the plane toward my seat. I begin to feel wet. Fear sets in because if my stomach is wet that means something soaked through my shirt and my maternity jeans getting dangerously close to my underware. I rush Sophie who remains sleeping to my seat. Very awkwardly open the diaper bag and lay everything on the seat beside me. The steward comes by and tells me to be very quick since we are taking off in two minutes. Also mentioning that weather or not I am done I will have to pick her up during takeoff. At this point I look down. Great. A shit storm. No time to be grossed out. I attempt to quickly change Sophie out of her clothes ( p.s it is January). I get her mostly into a new sleeper when we begin to take off. Fortunately I have a spare shirt ( but how do I change in a plane full of people)… Once the seat belt sign is turned off I lay her down on the seat beside me again carefully and put the new shirt on top and took the other one underneath off. I fold down the gross part of my mat jeans and sigh. Only 45 minutes to go. I decide to feed her so her ears don’t pop on the way down. I am not comfortable breastfeeding in front of people- especially strangers across the aisle from me. I manage to inconspicuously feed her. I survived the flight a little smelly but the girl did not cry at all. Leaving the plane the 2 men in front of me say’ wow she is such a good baby, I am suprised she did not cry’. Smelling like poop I smile and say ‘me too’ and sprint away.