First off, if you’ve never seen the movie The Terminal go and rent it really quick before proceeding to read this.
Z and me were heading to Mt. Everest land…we had to wake up butt crack early to get to the airport and lately I don’t do butt crack early very well (ok honestly I’ve never done butt crack early well). We check in with our cheap Curry Land carrier, I hand over all medical paperwork that I knew I would need because I am 34 weeks pregnant. Bags go on the conveyor belt, boarding passes are in hand. We were just about to get in the immigration line and then suddenly check in guy from Curry Land carrier comes and gets us. He asks me to come back to the customer service desk (in Curry Land ‘customer service desk’ means someone has or is about to make you really angry). Needless to say after an hour of them calling people, looking over my medical records and back and forth arguments we are not allowed to board the plane. They gave us back our bags and money and wished us a happy journey with another carrier. From the broken English conversations that we had the only real reason they could give us why we were not allowed to fly with them was that if our child happened to be born on their flight then they would have to give our child free airfare for the rest of its life. In my mind that is the ONLY perk to giving birth while flying.
So we had to repurchase tickets with an international carrier that at least has reasonable policies posted on their fancy international website. The only drawback with flight #2 is that we had to wait ten hours in the airport till departure. Being the tired prego that I am I wanted to get from the check in counter of the airport to the terminals because Curry Land terminal is really nice. There are several international restaurants, moving sidewalks, and recliners…its dreamland compared to the sterile check in area with hard Formica benches. So we tried to check in early with International carrier…to no avail. So like Tom Hanks in The Terminal, I was barred from my desired destination by silly bureaucratic excuses and a sliding glass door.
Z and me were heading to Mt. Everest land…we had to wake up butt crack early to get to the airport and lately I don’t do butt crack early very well (ok honestly I’ve never done butt crack early well). We check in with our cheap Curry Land carrier, I hand over all medical paperwork that I knew I would need because I am 34 weeks pregnant. Bags go on the conveyor belt, boarding passes are in hand. We were just about to get in the immigration line and then suddenly check in guy from Curry Land carrier comes and gets us. He asks me to come back to the customer service desk (in Curry Land ‘customer service desk’ means someone has or is about to make you really angry). Needless to say after an hour of them calling people, looking over my medical records and back and forth arguments we are not allowed to board the plane. They gave us back our bags and money and wished us a happy journey with another carrier. From the broken English conversations that we had the only real reason they could give us why we were not allowed to fly with them was that if our child happened to be born on their flight then they would have to give our child free airfare for the rest of its life. In my mind that is the ONLY perk to giving birth while flying.
So we had to repurchase tickets with an international carrier that at least has reasonable policies posted on their fancy international website. The only drawback with flight #2 is that we had to wait ten hours in the airport till departure. Being the tired prego that I am I wanted to get from the check in counter of the airport to the terminals because Curry Land terminal is really nice. There are several international restaurants, moving sidewalks, and recliners…its dreamland compared to the sterile check in area with hard Formica benches. So we tried to check in early with International carrier…to no avail. So like Tom Hanks in The Terminal, I was barred from my desired destination by silly bureaucratic excuses and a sliding glass door.
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