Traveling, even when you’re not pregnant, asks energy. Especially when reaching full term, everything on you weighs that little extra, be it your bag, the cup of tea in hand, or your own belly.
There is a good reason why flying after 36 weeks into pregnancy is not recommended: should you go into labor you will be miles away from home, or miles up in the air. Especially in case of the latter, one cannot guarantee sufficient care when a complication presents itself. Airlines will thus refuse women heavy with child for financial and insurance-technical considerations. Knowing that I would be well into to my 34th week on our way back from the Faroe Islands, I took some small precautions. I had a pre-travel evaluation by my gynecologist, who presented a document stating the expected date of delivery, that my pregnancy was without complications, and that, being in good health, flying would not compromise my health, nor the pregnancy.
Airlines will thus refuse women heavy with child for financial and insurance-technical condiderations.
This being said, we tried to make it as comfortable as possible, with little luggage on us (hence the turn of events in our earlier post ‘Preparing for the unexpected?’) and taking enough time for a stress-free check in and/or transit. Hence, instead of waiting in the airport for another extra few hours on a connecting flight to Brussels, we decided to insert a two-day stay in Copenhagen. One can discuss the virtue of avoiding stress by commuting from and to the airport in a short period of time, but at the time it seemed like a good idea. On paper. We were to take the super-convenient-fast-train from the airport into the city centre. Confusion prevailed as we were directed from sign to sign towards the tracks, but once there, passage was prevented.
One can discuss the virtue of avoiding stress by commuting from and to the airport in a short period of time, but at the time it seemed like a good idea. On paper.
Misfortune on this trip stroke yet again, it felt like Madame Fortune was straight out laughing in our face, this time with a train strike. At the time of arrival, close to nine in the evening, there were no longer frequent busses to our destination. What was to be a twenty minute hop-on-hop-off ride became a 3 hour delay to arrive, exhausted of course, at the hotel. Needless to say, moments like these one regrets to not sticking to keeping it short and simple. In hindsight, maybe that connecting flight wasn’t such a bad idea after all.
Copenhagen, however, became an ideal transition from the cold and rainy Faroe Islands to hot and sunny (yes, our summer can be great) Belgium. The city is excellent for some good old strolling around town, nice food, (window) shopping and sightseeing. Although public transport can bring you basically anywhere you want to go, we decided to explore by walking. It goes without saying that you then cover quite some miles, and it takes time, especially when this heavyweight momma put on her walking shoes. But seen the weather conditions and the good spirits we were in, we conquered town on foot. Yes, once we were back in the air towards Brussels, theses masses were dead-tired but frankly, nothing else it had rather been.