Raising Koralians: It's the memories that last

So we are finally back from our venture to China (via Korea) with a 4 month old.
Before the trip, all our concerns were on how our baby would cope with the travelling.
So we were totally unprepared for our collapse in health during the trip.

During our 10 hour plane ride to Korea, hubby started getting sick.
He was in and out of the toilet, getting paler by the minute, poor man.
I couldn't give him a hand because I had to tend to our son who refused to sleep in the plane bassinet.
Our grand plan to order marinated chicken delivery for dinner as soon as we arrive in Korea had to be cancelled since hubby collapsed into bed as soon as we got to my parent's place in Seoul.

Our son, Hazzy didn't do so well during the trip either.
He couldn't nap properly at all, and our boy doesn't like it when he can't get his sleeps.
He was cranky and overtired. He couldn't self settle and cried hysterically trying to fall asleep.
I had to resort to breastfeeding him to sleep and then plugging a pacifier in his mouth to keep him that way.

Then, on our way back from China, I started getting sick.
Being nauseous with diarrheoa is not very ideal when you are stuck in a plane for 10 hours.
Thankfully, Hazzy slept all throughout the plane ride, letting mummy suffer in peace.

During the trip, looking at my boy in fitful sleep and my husband in pain, I couldn't help but wonder, 'Is it all worth it?' I wanted to whisk my boy from this foreign country and place him safe and sound in his cot, where he will be happy again. Why are we here? What is all this for?

But then I looked back to my own childhood. It isn't the peaceful, comfortable times at home that I remember most, but the tiring family road trips and annoying family camping trips that lasts in my memories. I remember the ABBA songs that were playing in the car as we headed out to our destiny at the crack of dawn. I remember sharing beef jerkey with my sister in the car as we kept on asking, 'Are we there yet?' I remember the cramped, wet nights camping, when our whole family of four slept in the tent made for two people. I remember getting my hopes up every time we passed by a McDonalds, praying my dad will stop there for a rest. We might've been miserable during the journey, but we were together. There were times we were annoyed at each other, and also times of bickering, but we were there together. And when I think of my family, I think of the fond memories I have with them during those trips.

So yes, it is all worth it. And the best part of a difficult trip is coming back to our home.
Our home sweet home.