It’s been a while, but it’s also strange times and an emergency

It’s been a while since our last update. The last time we posted, we were in Germany, and honestly… our heads were full. Family stuff, doctor appointments, decisions that never feel 100% right, and that constant feeling of being “on standby” emotionally.

And in the middle of all that, we didn’t even tell you about something pretty intense: on our way to the Philippines with my mother, we had an emergency landing in Hyderabad.

And before anyone imagines movie-style drama with smoke coming out of the overhead bins: this emergency landing was because of a medical emergency on board. Not the plane. Not the weather. Not a technical issue.

A real, urgent medical situation.

The flight that suddenly wasn’t “just a flight” anymore

When you travel with your mother—especially when her health is part of the reason you’re travelling—you’re already on high alert. You notice every little thing. You watch how she’s breathing, whether she’s comfortable, whether she’s drinking enough water, and whether the extended sitting is bothering her. It’s not the relaxed “vacation flight mood.” It’s more like: please let this go smoothly.

At some point during the flight, the atmosphere changed. You could feel it even before you understood what was happening. The crew became more focused. People started looking around instead of staring at their screens. That quiet cabin hum turned into a strange, tense quiet—where everyone suddenly listens.

And then we learned why.

A woman on board—pregnant, around six months—had a serious complication and needed immediate medical help. Not “when we land.” Not “in a few hours.” The situation was urgent enough that she had to deliver immediately.

So the decision was made to veer off course.

And just like that, we were heading for an emergency landing in Hyderabad, with no time to reach our original destination.

I can’t even properly describe the mix of feelings in that moment: worry for the woman (and her baby), confusion about what would happen next.

But thankfully—really, thank God—it had nothing to do with my mother’s condition.

Still, it’s the kind of moment that stays with you. You can’t “unsee” how quickly a normal day can turn into a crisis. One minute you’re thinking about airport food and immigration lines, and the next minute your plane is diverting because someone’s life depends on it.

Landing in Hyderabad: relief, uncertainty, and that weird airport limbo

Hyderabad wasn’t part of any plan. It wasn’t even on the mental map for that day. Suddenly, it became the only place that mattered, because it meant help was closer.

When the wheels touched down, there was this collective exhale in the cabin. People were quiet, but you could feel that shared human reaction: Okay. We’re on the ground. Now she can get help.

What happens next in these situations is always a bit surreal. You’re still sitting in your seat, still in “flight mode,” but reality has changed. You don’t really know what’s happening up front. You don’t see the timeline. You don’t know if you’ll get off the plane, if you’ll refuel, if you’ll wait an hour or five. It’s this weird travel limbo where nobody is in control except the crew—and you have to accept it.

We didn’t get the full story afterwards (and it wouldn’t have felt right to dig for details). However, the core is clear, and it’s something I still think about: an emergency landing because a woman in her sixth month of pregnancy needed to deliver immediately.

That is not a typical travel anecdote. That’s the kind of thing that resets your perspective.

And yes, it’s also the kind of story that people sometimes look at you funny for when you tell it later—like you’re exaggerating. But we were there. It happened.

The bigger picture: why we were even on that flight

The whole trip was never just about “going back to the Philippines.” It was about my mother. About getting her to us safely. About trying to create a situation where she could settle, recover, and maybe even enjoy being with us for a while.

Those of you who’ve been through anything similar know the feeling: you want to help, you want to do the right thing, and you also know that you can’t force someone to feel at home in a place that isn’t home to them.

And that brings me to where we are now.

A few months later: settling down… or feeling stuck?

After a few months with us, my mom tried—she really did. But reality hit in a way we couldn’t “fix” with good intentions.

The Philippines can be paradise, but it can also be a shock if you’re not used to it. The heat doesn’t take breaks. The air can feel heavy. Sleep can be different. Your body reacts differently. And when you’re already not feeling 100%, the climate can feel like an extra weight you carry around all day.

Over time, we noticed she was growing increasingly uncomfortable. And it became hard to tell what exactly it was:

• Homesick (missing her familiar routines, language, friends, her own space),

• or genuinely sick from the climate and the constant heat,

• or maybe a mix of both, plus that emotional exhaustion that comes from being uprooted.

Sometimes people call it “not settling in,” but it’s deeper than that. It can feel like you’re living someone else’s life. Even if the people around you are loving and supportive, your inner compass still points somewhere else.

So next week, we’re bringing her back to her place.

And here’s the truth: we don’t know if it’s “just” a vacation to reset and breathe, or if it’s the decision to go back for good.

That part is up to her.

We can support her, we can organise flights, we can carry the bags, we can be the calm ones when things feel stressful—but we can’t decide where she feels okay. And we don’t want to pressure her into staying somewhere that makes her unhappy.

If she feels better back home and wants to stay there permanently, we’ll accept it. If she needs a break and decides to come back again later, we’ll figure it out.

That’s what I mean by “strange times.” Life doesn’t always move in clean chapters. Sometimes it’s one long paragraph with no full stop.

And in the middle of all this… Sri Lanka

While all this was going on, we were also planning a trip to Sri Lanka—originally with my mom. The idea was simple: a change of scenery, something beautiful to look forward to, a trip that feels like life is more than appointments and difficult decisions.

But plans changed, as they often do.

So now, in a few weeks, it’s back to the original team: Lizz & Andi, travelling alone again.

I have mixed feelings about that, to be honest. I’m excited—Sri Lanka has been on our minds for a while, and we both need that “reset” feeling. But there’s also that quiet background noise in my head: Is my mom okay? Did we do the right thing? What happens next?

Travel is funny like that. Sometimes it’s pure joy. Sometimes it’s therapy. And sometimes it’s the only way you can breathe for a minute so you can come back and deal with real life again.

What you can expect next

We’ll share more soon—once we’re through the next week and all the logistics are in place, and once we’re actually on the road again. There’s a lot to look forward to, but right now it’s one step at a time.

For now, I’ll leave you with this thought: if you’ve been feeling like life is messy and unpredictable lately… you’re not alone. Sometimes all you can do is keep moving, keep adjusting, and try to care for the people you love (without forgetting to care for yourself, too).

More soon from us—Lizz & Andi