I believe I can’t fly. 

The first time I flew I was 18. I had my first credit card and a burning desire to travel. I walked into the airport and purchased the next ticket.

A few things are happening as I think of this story. First is who was this girl? Never ever have I lived so carelessly. Second, can I get some of her back? 

I caught the travel bug that weekend because in less than two hours I was in the warm sun and I was in love with the beach. I had been to the beach before and it was 12-16 hours of traffic jams and curvy mountain roads. 

After that experience rarely did I drive more than four hours. If I wanted to go airplane tickets were purchased. But then I had a family. Airline tickets are expensive. I would often send the kids off with my guy and I would stay back home with our latest little. 

When I was 7 months pregnant with #3 I decided I missed the beach and I wanted to be with my baby girls at the beach. So I flew down to Florida. 

The two hour plane ride with my #1 and #2 was riddled with anxiety attacks and the reality that in a split second my whole world could literally crash down. 

Once we landed it was a very long tear filled call to my guy that I would not be flying home and that he needed to find a way to get us home. Yes it seems ridiculous now and it was. Thankfully those three airplane tickets were turned into a Vegas trip for my guy later. 

But I have refused to fly since. It has made it hard to vacation or travel with my guy. Something we used to do a lot together. I decided if I couldn’t get there by car I wasn’t going. 

So we made it the mountains. Eight hours and not a horrible drive. We saved almost two years to take that trip. Fast forward three years, saved money and the beach calling our names and we are headed to the beach in two weeks. 

I have had a unique and soulful attachment to the ocean. I have been more times than I could count. I haven’t been in over 7 years. We sat girls down this winter and asked where they wanted to go. The ocean was the unanimous answer.

Flights weren’t cheap enough and honestly my anxiety wouldn’t let it be an option. So 12 hour drive here we come. But I am so glad to be heading to the ocean with my family. My #3 will get to see the ocean for the first time. 

Maybe I will fly again, but I don’t know. That saying that being a mom is forever having your heart outside your chest is true. As long as I feel that way I doubt I will be able to fly as unreasonable as it is.


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