Plan in Action

**I don't remember if I mentioned it before. I guess I just didn't think about it. I do smoke and I did smoke through both of my pregnancies. I cut my consumption by more than half, but I just couldn't give them up totally. The one time I quit cold, I was about 2 months along with Kenny and my skin, blood pressure and overall health went to hell! Stress is a bad, but strong trigger of my psoriasis. After just two days without a cigarette, I was in a really bad place. We took our issue to the doctor and he told me that a few cigarettes a day would actually be better for the pregnancy than allowing my stress to get so bad that my psoriasis goes into full flare. A full on flare of my psoriasis (covering over 75% of my body) could cause a stroke. That would be WAY bad. So I smoked. I kept myself in check. I pissed off a lot of people who would see me wearing a "bun in the oven" shirt while I lit up, but I did everything else right and my kids are happy, healthy and perfect! (Judge me if you must) On with the story.**

We have a plan. Alaska or Oregon. We love our parents dearly, so they weren't really a factor. The decision needed to be based on how happy we would feel living in our chosen place. Job market for Jason. Climate for my psoriasis. Access to wonderful experiences for our children and our family as a whole.

We gave our parents the low down. For the most part both sets of parents were supportive, give or take a comment or two. You know how parents can be. Jason's mom and dad had offered us plane tickets years ago but we never took them up on it. Now was the time. We dove into making plans, scheduling flights and trying to put some extra money aside for the trip. By the end of September our itinerary was set. We would leave the 15th and return the 21st of October (don't hold me to the exact dates since I didn't write them in our journals). Jason's mom would pick us up in Anchorage and we should be at the house in Wasilla about an hour later. I kept my mind busy with planning. What to pack for Kenny. What to pack for ourselves. How to take the car seat. I poured over all the restrictions that had been put into place since 9-11 and started to get my lists written then slowly marked off.

As things started to be set solidly in stone I balked. We were supposed to leave in just over a week. You see, I don't like to fly. I had been trying to ignore this fact but it finally hit home. It has nothing to do with being in the air. I am not afraid of heights or speed. In fact, the one time I flew before...a small little private four-seater plane....I loved the freedom of it. I loved the view. The pilot was a friend of mine and he showed me all the neat gadgets and gauges. Nope, my problem is not being in control. I am a control freak. I do not trust my care nor the care of my family in the hands of another. If I could fly the plane everything would be fine. If I could sit in the cockpit where I was in reach of the controls in case something went wrong, I would be fine. This plan was stupid. No way. Can't do it. Ain't gonna. Nuh-uh. Why can't we just drive? I love to drive (by the way, I almost never let my hubby drive, control). Imagine all the beauty we would see on the drive! Oregon, Washington, Canada!! Jason will go for that, Right? I may even let him drive a little ways.

I spent days on end trying to figure out the best way to tell Jason that this trip isn't going to happen. I dropped slight hints reiterating my fear. He would smile and tell me that he was going to be right there with me. Hmm. I was going to have to get manipulative about this. There must be a way to convince him that flying was out. It hit me on the 8th of October. I even wrote my plan in my journal. We can't fly because the baby!! I am almost 8 months pregnant and there is no way in hell that the doctor is going to let me fly!! I mean come on. I am overweight, I smoke and stress is bad for me. I got it!

Just before Jason left for work on the 9th, I hit him with my well-thought out excuse. He actually rolled his eyes at me! "Make a doc appointment for tomorrow, then. We will see what he has to say," he says. Ok. I will. So I called the doctor, set up the appointment and fully believed that I was going to get my way. I relaxed. While Kenny was napping I got online and checked to see if there was a way to transfer or get a refund for the tickets we had purchased. I printed out the instructions and exceptions for a ticket transfer in case of "unavoidable" circumstances. A doctor telling me "no" was unavoidable, right? All I needed now was Jason to agree and then we could go from here.

October 10th. I met Jason at the doctor's office. We walked in, greeted the receptionist and took a seat in the waiting room. Jason asked me if I was nervous. Of course not! I knew with all my heart that the doctor isn't going to allow me to fly. The nurse called us in. She asked if there was something I was concerned about since this was not a pre-scheduled check up. I told her that we were planning a trip to Alaska and needed to get the doc's approval. Doctor Chacon came in. He asked the same question as the nurse. When I told him about the trip he grinned. HE ACTUALLY GRINNED!! He said," The whole thing about pregnant women not flying in the latter part of their pregnancies is really sort of a wives tale. Women can fly up until just a week or two before their due date safely. Some airlines put a restriction about how late into a pregnancy flying is ok, but that is mostly for liability purposes." WHAT!!! Ok wait, so I said, "Being that I am considered a high risk pregnancy because of my medical problems, my smoking and my skin, I shouldn't fly, Right?" He grinned again. I was really starting to hate grinning people. He said, "Let's check you out." I got poked and prodded. The baby and I were fine. In fact we are doing great according to the grinning pain-in-the-butt doctor. He went to the door, "Let me just get something real quick and then you guys can go."

While we waited I glared at Jason. He just grinned and tickled Kenny, "Ready to go to Alaska kiddo?" Kenny cooed back and I was ready to scream. The doctor came in and handed me a piece of paper. He said, "If you have any problem at check in with the airline concerning your pregnancy, show them this. They can call me if they need to, but I am sure everything will be fine. You guys have a great trip! I try to go to Alaska at least once a year and I love it there." This grinning fool just handed me a permission slip to fly! OH MY GOD! A permission slip. It contained basic info on my pregnancy, how far along, due date etc and a contact and emergency contact number in case there were complications while I was gone. HOLY CRAP! If this isn't proof that God has a sense of humor I don't know what is. I was so shocked I couldn't think. I couldn't talk.

We left the office and I finally found my wits while we were getting Kenny into my truck in the parking lot. Jason listened quietly to my ranting and raving. To my fears and concerns about the trip. When I was done, he simple said, "I will be right with you. We will be fine. We will have fun. Don't worry about it. Just think of why we are doing this. This is for our children." Great! Now he uses my own plan and my own children against me! Wonderful.

All the way home I took deep breaths and tried to relax. This is all my stupid fault in the first place! I am the one who started the ball rolling on our "plan" for a better life. I put Kenny down for a nap and sat on the couch staring into oblivion. Felicia started to kick and roll around in my tummy. I decided that this was just something I had to do. We are getting on a plane in 5 days. This is for my kids. This is for my kids. This is for my kids. This is for my kids. My new mantra.