2 Dead Grandmas

In late April, I took my 3^rd driving trip to the West Coast of Florida with my daughter’s mother-in-law, Andrea, to see our children, Allison and Dave, and their 11-month-old bundle of sweetness, Zoey.   

In contrast to our first outing, Andrea and I didn’t need to talk about much before we left, such as who would bring what foods/snacks, how we’d stay safe from COVID, who remembered how to pump gas from our teen years, or anything at all. Back then, we were probably nervous to be in the car with each other for such a long stint…Would we be compatible? Would we still be talking when we reached our destination? But by the second time around, I knew we’d have a blast. In all the time we’ve spent together, we’ve never run out of things to gab about.   

The ride back to NJ, however, had a bit of a twist with an extra anxiety-producing component, as we were transporting precious cargo…frozen breast milk, packed in dry ice.

This milk was to cover Zoey for the family’s 9-day visit with us/Dave’s mom that they were planning to make over Mother’s Day weekend, once they realized Hey, we are fully vaccinated, let’s go visit our families, many of whom hadn’t met Zoey yet. While they first thought she could switch to formula while in NJ, it became clear that taking the frozen milk home with us was the better option.

Even though in theory this frozen milk didn’t alter our actual strategy for the ride home – 10 hours the first day, stay overnight in North Carolina, and drive about 8 or 9 hours the second day – our unfamiliarity with dry ice and concern about it getting to its destination fully frozen for Zoey dictated our journey.

The goal was to keep about 280 ounces of already-frozen breast milk frozen for about 34 hours (a drive of 20 hours plus an overnight stop). If the milk defrosted, it would have a shelf life of 24 hours, so essentially it would all have to be trashed. That’s a lot of Allison’s milk and time devoted to pumping that would have been for naught…and how would Zoey fare? It would surely have soured her/their visit, given that Zoey has only had her mother’s milk in a bottle and loves the routine of laying in her Boppy pillow with her bottle at key points during the day, especially as she’s going down for a nap or for the night.

The plan to travel with the milk had been formed after a group effort on researching the transport of frozen breast milk. There were components of the plan that had to be figured out, such as: 1 – the amount of breast milk needed for 9 days and the associated quantity of dry ice required; 2 – the type of cooler(s) needed; 3 - how to pack the dry ice while protecting the plastic bags of frozen milk; and so on. On the home front, David was charged with cleaning out our packed freezer to accommodate the goods.

About 7 a.m. on the morning of our drive back to NJ, Dave met us at Publix, a Florida supermarket. He bought the dry ice there, packed and taped up the containers – about 2 cubic feet each – and placed them in the back seat, which took up most of the bench. He then said his goodbyes to each of us. As we got into our car to go, he mentioned something about the boxes exploding.

Andrea and I looked at each other and said, “W H A T ???” This hadn’t been discussed beforehand.

We called David (Dave was headed to work) who did further research and learned that as the dry ice melts, it gives off carbon dioxide; therefore, he said we need to keep the windows cracked so we don’t die from the fumes. While it may sound simple just to keep the window open a bit, when you're on the highway driving some 70+ mph, this means that talking turns into screaming so that we can hear one another. He also said to “burp” the Styrofoam coolers periodically so they don’t...explode!

Thus, the title name of this story…2 Dead Grandmas.

Our first stop was in Dunn, North Carolina, about 6 pm. We emptied our car with all our bags, the 2 hefty containers of frozen breast milk and organized our stuff on a luggage cart. While we have gotten quite good at loading and unloading, it remains a production in and of itself.

We opened our hotel window as much as we could for ventilation so we wouldn’t pass out or die from carbon dioxide poisoning, as we had been warned. By the time we got settled, had dinner, climbed into bed and began to discuss our morning plan, we noticed a couple of ants crawling across my comforter. These plus the ones we saw earlier totally skeeved us out.

After calling the hotel front desk to ask if they had another room available for us (which they did not), we once again packed all our belongings on to the luggage cart that we had just unpacked, and hit the road. These 2 grandmas weren’t dead, but we sure were dead tired.

At this point, we didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

It was about 10:15 p.m. when we got back into the car, and my adrenaline was pumped. I envisioned driving all the way home; we would get there by around 5 a.m. and that would shave off a huge chunk of time that the dry ice would need to stay in top form.  

An hour later, we reconsidered. David had called a few times with pleas to stop at a hotel and get a good night’s sleep before the 2^nd leg of the trip. The reality of how exhausting it would be to finish the drive that night hit me by midnight.  

I was so hyper about the milk that I didn’t think I’d get any sleep, but I passed out within minutes of our unloading all our stuff once again in the second hotel. I told Andrea not to look down or around so as not to see anything unpleasant; just look straight ahead and dive into bed. 

After 8 more hours of driving, we arrived in Cherry Hill. I prayed aloud while Andrea poked around the dry ice to see the status of the milk…

F R O Z E N  S O L I D.

What a glorious sight…and an even bigger relief!