What Really Happened in Rome
You may have seen the photos from How We Prepared For Our Rome visit. It’s amazing and invigorating, but very rarely do people share the real story. Here, we’re sharing how a holiday can still be beautiful even with all the stress and anxieties.
THE WEEK BEFORE
A few days before our flight to Rome, our baby got sick. We thought it would be okay since departure was a week away. We thought her fever would last three days, and we’d still have two days left before our flight. She would have a low grade fever during the day, and it would spike at nighttime. It was exhausting for both me and her because she couldn’t sleep and I’m trying to calm her down while she’s uncomfortable. It was really heavy on my emotions. I would be fatigued during the day and more fatigued and stressed out at night.Two days before we left, her daytime temperature normalized. So we thought we would be okay. And then that evening, it was up again. So the next day, we brought her to the doctor. She prescribed some ibuprofen and antibiotics just in case the fever doesn’t get better. We gave her the ibuprofen and for the first time in a week she finally slept well.Unfortunately, we had to wake up at 4:00 AM to catch our 7:50 AM flight. Paolo and I were also too excited and a tad overtired that we couldn’t sleep either. I can’t make this up, but we woke up to a power cut. We had no electricity. These cuts are frequent in Istanbul for some reason, but to happen on the day we leave, GOODNESS. We had to get ready literally IN THE DARK.
THE PLANE RIDE
We arrive at the airport and board the plane. Our daughter is a toddler now, so she can’t sit on my lap anymore. But she’s still a little sick, and she keeps asking to be carried. She’s really anxious about the flight. The flight attendant comes by our aisle before takeoff to remind us that she has to sit in her seat. It’s at this point that she COMPLETELY LOSES IT.She starts crying and screams BLOODY MURDER. Paolo and I are on either side of her just trying to keep her in her seat with the belt buckled. I’m getting scratched in the face and we’re just holding her down. It was incredibly heartbreaking. We were so stressed and tense we were ready to fight anyone who turned and looked at us. My poor baby. She was screaming the entire time we were taxiing, taking off, and starting to cruise.When she fell asleep from exhaustion, I couldn’t help it, I started sobbing in my seat, while Istanbul faded below.I felt incredibly defeated and tired and guilty. I just prayed it would get better.
GETTING TO OUR AIRBNB
We thought the worse was over. She woke up as we started to land, and Paolo put his arms around her to calm her down while we were descending. We picked up our luggage then headed to the train station to skip traffic going into the city. She was fine on the train, but apparently what we hadn’t planned was our tickets. We bought a train ticket at the airport, but we had to get down at Piazza Ostenzia and then take the bus to our Airbnb. Allegra’s hungry because she didn’t eat on the plane.
Paolo figures out how to get a bus ticket, and we’re ready. Or so we thought. We didn’t know buses in Rome were NEVER ON TIME. It’s about noon, I scheduled a lunch at the Filipino restaurant in Prati, and we’re just at a bus stop for forty minutes waiting.This whole time Allegra’s asking why we’re waiting and what’s taking so long and that she’s hungry. There’s just so much energy and expectations that I have to manage, and I honestly don’t have all the answers. I don’t know when the bus is coming. But I do know that we have to wait.TA-DA, the bus finally arrives.It drives around and passes a random pyramid, remnants of the Empire. We track how much longer before we can drop our bags and eat, and find ourselves stuck in traffic. It’s a solid half hour on the street that will take us closer to our apartment, but really all I can manage is sound enthusiastic so I can distract my hungry, sick, grumpy child.We get to our street, which is a little bit of a walk, and check-in to our Airbnb. And it’s the best part of the day so far. It is now 2:00 PM and we are hungry and tired. But the family hosting us is so lovely and accommodating. They tell us about this little restaurant around the corner, and after we freshen up and head to the restaurant, we find them sitting at a table, saving it for us.Allegra says she’s hungry so we order some homemade lasagna and meatballs. She tries to down some meat but spits it up. We decide not to give her anymore lest she hurls and ruins late lunch.
oops, spoke to soon
We return to the flat for a nap, giving ourselves a break physically, mentally, and emotionally. That night, we walk around Piazza Navona, forgoing our original itinerary of a walking tour from Trastevere to Palacio Bonaparte. Allegra is entertained by the Michael Jackson impersonator and tries to moonwalk.We think she’s feeling better so we make our way to another restaurant frequented by locals called Da Tonino. They served an amazing carbonara for Paolo and a veal and peas dish for me.
We figured the meal warranted a tall bottle of house wine. Our table is looking great, the prices are reasonable, the service was quick. Allegra didn’t want the meat so I gave her the peas. Then she regurgitated the things that she had just gurgitated (not a real word) all over the table, IN THIS TINY LITTLE RESTAURANT, ending hers as well as my appetite for dinner. I could feel tears stinging my eyes. I wanted her to get better, but she didn’t want to eat. It was unbelievably frustrating. Several days of interrupted sleep was giving me a major headache, so we cleaned her up, asked for the cheque, and left quickly. We got ready for bed that night, and thank God for all His mercy because she slept soundly.
can we relax yet?
At 6:30 AM the next day, we began power walking to catch another (late) bus to Vatican City. She fell asleep in the middle of a five-hour tour. Right smack in the Sistine Chapel.The good news is, she can rest. The bad news: I have to carry her around.
The tour went well, Paolo said it was a dream come true. That made my heart glad. Even if I was carrying a pretty heavy human being.She woke up and we all walked to a pizzeria just outside the Vatican called Pizzeria Casali. Where she ate. Finally. A LOT.YOU MEAN ALL I HAD TO DO WAS GIVE HER PIZZA?! (MADONNE!!!)
Then we all walked a few more blocks to find one of the reasons we came to Rome—the Filipino restaurant. We filled our table with dishes like lechon kawali, binagoongan, and sinigang. We were finally relieved from the emotional stress of our child feeling ill, and at the same time physically nourished by the food that brought us great memories of the Philippines.Saying grace went something like this: Dear God, our Savior, our Friend, our LORD, thank You so much for sustaining us this past week, especially these past few days. Thank You for healing our baby that she's well enough to eat. And thank You for allowing us to experience Your hand in these stressful times. We pray that we don't take the things we see, hear, and taste here for granted. Please bless the hands that prepared this food. In Jesus' Name, amen.
All's well that ends well
We had some of the Filipino food to go and ate it for breakfast the next day, before our Ancient Rome tour. She asked for more rice and Paolo and I just looked at each other, half-proud of our Asian baby that preferred rice over pasta, half-stressed at where to source rice in ROME, ITALY. Ah, well. She made do with pizza the rest of the trip.So in conclusion, do I recommend you travel with a sick baby? Not even a little bit.Do I recommend you travel with people you love regardless of the situation? Yes. Always.But after this, I think I need a vacation from this vacation.Also, I properly drowned my anxieties at our wine tasting dinner in Rimessa Roscioli that night. But that story's for another time.