A Masterclass In Family Travel

When I was first introduced to the luxury travel world, I was seduced. Pristine beach cabanas, lavish buffet spreads, undisturbed silence. Every perfectly lit Instagram post with its solo sunsets and cinematic soundtracks sold me a version of luxury that felt more like a fantasy than something tangible. It was a feeling, not a checklist.

But after two years living on the road, experiencing five-star resorts and all the bells and whistles, I realized something: the version of luxury I’d been sold wasn’t actually mine. To understand what I truly valued, I had to look deeper into how the business of luxury travel works, and more importantly, for whom it’s designed.

The Myth of Motherhood and the Loss of Autonomy

As a career woman, motherhood never felt like part of the plan. I believed the common fallacy: that children meant forfeiting freedom, adventure, and identity. The script was predictable from daycare drop-offs, to suburban monotony. It was a life on repeat that I rejected vehemently.

Then I met my (now) husband. Everything changed. Except me. I still craved experience, learning, movement. I had places to go.

You might already know what happened next. I got laid off. I got pregnant. He lost his job. And so we booked a one-way ticket to Denmark. Now, 27 countries later, with a toddler in tow, I see the travel and hospitality industries through an entirely new lens.

The Invisible Traveler: Pregnant Women and New Parents

Luxury, as it’s marketed today, doesn’t see us. It doesn’t hear us. The moment you become pregnant or have a child under four, you’re erased from the image of the “ideal traveler.” The hospitality industry assumes we either want to suffer through the chaos of a massive all-inclusive, or stay home.

When we started traveling with our daughter, I went deep into research mode. I combed through mommy blogs, travel forums, and even freelanced as a luxury travel advisor to get behind the curtain. I’ve hunted down the best properties, amenities, and options for new moms and babies which has been harder than finding political adversaries in my past life.

Nothing was built for me. For us.

My Definition of Luxury

Luxury, to me, is peace of mind. It’s the ability to spend quality, undisturbed time with my daughter and husband without also managing logistics, messes, safety, feeding, and whether or not we packed enough clean diapers (emergency blowouts and mom-brain are a deathly combination). If I’m spending thousands of dollars on a trip, I want it to work for me.

My definition of luxury includes:

• Not worrying about babyproofing, food ingredients, or whether a hotel will judge me for breastfeeding in the lobby without a cover.
• Knowing I haven’t committed to a week of sinking into an ultra-plush king mattress while bedsharing. 
• Skipping the judgment when I take my baby to a concert or take a pole dancing class on vacation (because yes, I still do that, and yes, we will leave if my daughter can’t tolerate it).
• Traveling without wondering if someone’s going to try to pick up or photograph my child without my consent.
• Having real family experiences that aren’t reduced to grubby kids’ menus and crowded theme parks.

I’m not asking to be spoiled. I’m asking to be seen.

The Gap in the Market

There’s no one-size-fits-all for parenting. Some want to hand the baby to the concierge and sip champagne poolside. Others want to co-sleep and carry their baby on a mountain hike. But what we all want is consent, respect, and safety, for ourselves and our children.

Being a mom is hard. Being a mom with a career is even harder. And being a mom who still wants to explore the world? That’s a whole category the travel industry hasn’t known how to serve.

And yet, this is the demographic that probably needs a vacation the most.

What We Actually Want

We want the same things we always did: beautiful spaces, cultural immersion, unforgettable meals, movement. But now, we also want:

• To know that a destination is safe for our baby and ourselves.
• To understand how we’ll be supported, not just accommodated.
• To spend our most valuable resource, time, on something that doesn’t leave us more exhausted.

It Takes A Village

I created Trimester Abroad because I couldn’t be the only one who thought: this is harder than it should be. I wanted to build a platform that helps new parents rediscover the joy of travel without the guesswork, guilt, or compromise.

We educate parents by sharing practical travel insights, and spotlighting destinations, hotels, airlines, and experiences that prove families belong in luxury, because we do. We empower travel advisors to curate trips that actually ease our stress, not add to it. And we equip travel and hospitality industry leaders to create experiences that make us feel safe, seen, and cared for. Our families deserve the same care, service, and excellence as honeymooners, business travelers, and influencers.

We value safety. We value quality. We value personalization. We value feeling human while raising tiny humans.

This isn’t just about finding the best blackout curtains or Michelin-approved room design. It’s about building a world where new and expecting parents are welcomed, not sidelined.

Because our kids are worth it.

And so are we.