Surviving Solo Travel as a Mom: What Airplane Bathrooms Taught Me About Postpartum Resilience

The Reality of Solo Travel with Toddlers

I travel alone with two toddlers. People like to call that brave. I call it delusional optimism meets Rapid Rewards. Every time we walk through the airport, someone inevitably says, “Wow, you’ve got your hands full!” And every time, I want to hands full slap them in the face—with love, of course. Because yes, my hands are full—with juice boxes, wet wipes, and the fading remains of my sanity (a moment only a postpartum support circle could decode).

Airplane Bathrooms: Cirque du Soleil Edition

Let’s talk about airplane bathrooms. Whoever designed them clearly never met a child, or anyone with limbs. Changing a diaper in there is like trying to perform a Cirque du Soleil routine inside a lunchbox. Pee ends up everywhere—on the walls, on me, possibly in another time zone. The changing table is basically a tapas board bolted to the wall, and yet we soldier on. I recently took my two toddler boys with me into a bathroom, and we were a family of three stuffed into that tiny space like it was a game of airplane Tetris at 30,000 feet. The door barely shut, one kid was standing on my foot, and I’m just whispering prayers and Purelling everything in sight.

Snacks, Pacifiers, and Diplomacy

Then there’s the food situation. I packed enough snacks to survive a minor apocalypse—solid pretzel sticks, gummies, Goldfish—but somehow they don’t compare to the airport’s gourmet $12 pretzels and $15 gummies. They taste exactly the same, except one comes with a receipt that makes me question how I can write this off for tax purposes.

And then there’s the pacifier incident. Picture this: we’re sprinting to make our connecting flight, the stroller’s one wheel is doing that weird wobble thing, and suddenly—plop—the paci hits the airport floor. I lock eyes with it like it’s a grenade. I have two choices: leave it behind and listen to 45 minutes of toddler heartbreak, or… take the hit. So I pick it up, dust it off, and—God forgive me—pop it into my own mouth first. Because if anyone’s getting the germs, it’s me. Motherhood: a one-woman petri dish (thankfully I get to truthfully share these stories within our virtual postpartum support circles).

Once we’re finally on the plane, the real diplomacy begins. I give the “please don’t kick the seat, open and close your tray table 900 times, or drop a Hot Wheels into the abyss” talk. Because the “friend” in front of us or behind us is trying to rest—or at least not spiral into rage during their middle seat experience.

The Kindness of Fellow Parents

But amid the chaos, there are the helpers. The many parents who have walked this same wild road and see me struggling with two kids and a backpack full of crushed granola bars. They smile knowingly. They chat with my 5-year-old, who has to sit next to a stranger because the plane only has two seats per row. They tell him about their pets or what clouds are made of. They remind me that people really can be kind.

There’s always a Miss Jen or a Miss Megan who helps smooth over the “who gets the window” debate by casually saying, “Only big kids sit in the aisle.” And just like that, I’m spared a sibling showdown at 30,000 feet (moments that we get to commune on within our second time mom support groups that we all totally relate to).

First Class Parenting: Support Beyond the Snacks

So yes—when the flight finally lands after twelve hours of travel, my hair smells faintly of apple juice and despair—I will be ordering that glass of wine. Because their dad will be the one picking us up, driving us home, and putting them to bed.

If solo travel (or just life with toddlers) has you feeling like you’re barely keeping it together, you’re not alone. Whether it’s connecting through a postpartum support circle or exploring online therapy for new moms in California, there’s support available. Discover how our support circles and therapists can help you navigate postpartum challenges—because even the bravest moms deserve a little first-class support.

Written by Life After Birth 1:1 + Couples Therapist, Rebecca Stevens, MA, AMFT