And Soon the Duet Will Became a Trio (well.. we became a trio!)

A little musical reference in the title to start ;-)

I can't believe it's been a month since our dear Daniel came into this world. I've wanted to sit down and write every detail since that happened, but, as many parents know, life gets pretty busy with a baby! This blog is going to be WAY longer than any blog entry should be, but, I need to get it all out or I'll forget later, so, I will not be offended if the only people who make it through this are our parents.

I consider myself to have had a very fortunate pregnancy. I only ever had minor issues and only one random but treatable complication at the end. I was preparing myself for a long and hard delivery since I figured karma had to kick in at some point, right?

Sunday, December 15th we went to the movies with our friends Jane and Viren (The Hobbit). I'll admit that my back had been hurting more and the previous week I had begun to show signs of prelabour, but, I still had two weeks before my due date, and everyone was telling me that first babies are always late, so, I was trying to psych myself up for another couple weeks of discomfort and trying not to be too anxious to finally meet this thing that had grown inside me for the previous nine months. That night I didn't sleep well (but nothing too abnormal for the end of pregnancy) and my back hurt so bad that by 4am I gave up and got out of bed. Right as I was moving to get out of bed, for a few seconds I thought my water had broke, but, then it stopped, so, I went and put some ice on my back and started contemplating whether or not to take off work for the day. Reid woke up at the normal 6am, and asked me if he needed to stay home. As the pain was only getting worse and has I had started to have some pain in my abdomen as well, I told him to get ready for school but that I'd call the midwife and ask what she thought about my symptoms (at this point I figured it was false labour). Then BAM. The contractions started coming, and coming often. Every 4-5 minutes. I thought, "This can't be it. That's already Stage 2 of labour. I probably ate something bad..." The midwife came over, checked me, and I was already 5 cm dilated and mostly effaced. She was just as surprised as I was.

I'll be honest and that whole morning is just snapshots and blurred memories. I remember sitting on my knees in the car hanging onto the head rest and thanking God that it was early morning and that we didn't have to deal with traffic. We get to the hospital and they send me to the emergency room, despite all three of us insisting that I was in labour and that we just needed to go to the birthing level. We had the documents ready (the ones that were supposedly all we needed to show up for delivery) but as in true Indian fashion, we didn't get to go up until about 5 other people came into the ER to discuss what to do with me (meanwhile I'm contracting every few minutes). We get admitted up to the labour room and they have Reid go fill out paperwork while Lina, the midwife, stayed with me. More confusion with the paperwork kept Reid downstairs for a bit, so, I was so thankful to have Lina there with me. The head gynecologist of the hospital came and insisted I could not possibly as far along as we told them. She checked and conceded that I was maybe 4cm and then scolded me a bit for waiting so long to come to the hospital and that she would immediately send for the epidural. I said I didn't want one and she and the other nurses looked thoroughly complexed. I conceded that if I wanted one later that I would inform them. I think my low long grunting sounds I was making during contractions was probably weirding them out a bit, and later I found out that most had not seen a totally drug free delivery before.

The next few hours were spent ritually grabbing onto Reid's shoulders and resting my head on his chest and rocking back and forth in the "slow dance" pose while Lina pushed down hard on my back with each contraction. I think at one point I laid down on my side, but standing was so much more comfortable (and FORGET sitting or lying on my back). The fetal monitor I had to wear lying flat for 20 minutes was the longest 20 minutes of my life (again, much to the confusion the head gyno and the nurses who couldn't understand why I wasn't lying down in bed this whole time). When my gynecologist showed up I think the words "Praise Jesus" came across my lips. He is so popular, working 4-5 hospitals and 2 clinics and you just don't know with Mumbai traffic that I had fully prepared myself to have him not make it to my delivery (especially with how seemingly fast it was going). He predicted I'd deliver within the next couple hours and I remember the pain was starting to get to me a bit and it was at this point that I remember sort of "checking out". I remember telling myself over and over again in my head "I can do this. I trust my body. My body was made to do this" and Reid later told me he heard me say it out loud once in awhile too. And then it was like I couldn't help it... I needed to push. Lina heard the change in my, well, gruntings, and informed the staff. They checked, asked me to wait a little bit more, but not long after we were soon ready to go to the delivery room. They brought in a gurney, which was ridiculous as the delivery room was literally across the hall from my room, so, I waddled past it (again to the stares of the hospital staff) and up onto the delivery table. I remember someone pulling off my socks and Dr. Sheriar helping me get into position.

The pushing stage I remember the least details. I remember for some reason having to be on my back, which is exactly what I DIDN"T want and that the pain was beyond intense. After we had begun, our pediatrician arrived and I said another "thank you God" as he is also a very busy man. Then I noticed about 12 other random people in the room. It's a good thing I'm not a very particular (or modest) person with such things as the people with clipboards in their suits took notes and asked questions. I guess we were one of the first foreign couples to choose this rather new hospital and they wanted to make sure everything was going well and take notes on the process. My doctor in between contractions would instruct them on what the delivery room should have, what inventory they were low on or missing and what to expect or be prepared for. Reid and Lina wiped sweat off my face or continued to get me drinks of water (I do remember feeling about as hot as I've ever been). My doctor and our pediatrician know each other well and were chatting back and forth (again, after coaching me through each contraction) when I heard him say "You know, these are music teachers, we better have some music in here!" and he got out his phone and all of a sudden I'm pushing to the music of ABBA (S.O.S.) and Queen. There was a moment when I thought, "this is definitely strange. I'm making low, grunting, animal like sounds, sweating buckets, probably pooping on the table but can't tell,  and they're all chatting away and rocking out to Bohemian Rhapsody." - Like I was just another person in the room hanging out and could start singing along at any moment.

After good progress, things started to slow down. I remember feeling my contractions getting weaker, no matter how hard I pushed. I guess the labour had been so hard, intense, and fast, and my baby's head was turned sideways and having a hard time getting through, that my body began to give up. After trying to move the head manually, the doctor warned me we may need to get out the vacuum and I just thought to myself that after all this please let the vacuum work, I really did not want a c-section. After the pediatrician on one side and the hospital gynecologist on the other pushing down from my stomach to help still didn't get him out, the vacuum was inserted and he said that with one final push together I would have my baby.

And then I pushed as hard as I could and he didn't come out. All of a sudden I heard fast Hindi being spoken and people moving around. The gentle coaching from my doctor and the pediatrician turned into strong almost football-coach like intensity, yelling at me that I NEEDED to push harder, right now, no HARDER. I remember I started to feel tears coming at this point and saying something like my body was so tired. Why wasn't my baby out? I could tell something hadn't gone right but didn't understand what was happening. And then the pressure released (but not the pain) and I saw the top of the head of my baby as they put him on my stomach. I was so out of it and still not sure what was going on. I remember Reid's voice in my ear whispering "It's a boy". Our pediatrician gently told me that he would let me hold him briefly but that in 15 seconds he was going to take him away because he needed a little help. I looked at the clock, it was 12:20. Six hours earlier I had been debating whether or not to go to work.

I remember watching Reid go over to the warmer/baby station across the room with the pediatrician as I lay there, absolutely in shock and exhausted. And then the fast Hindi from my doctor started up again, and I heard the word "hemorrhage". I felt a stab in my left thigh from a shot, an IV that had been put in just in case during labour was then set up, and two pills were put under my tongue, all of which quickly stopped the excessive bleeding hat had begun.

You never hear about the couple hours after a birth. I did not get to immediately hold my baby. I lay there, now on pain killers and anti-coagulants (that later on made me freezing and convulse for about a half hour) while they sewed me up. Lina stayed with me, giving me more water and telling me what was going on over with Reid and our son. Reid cut the umbilical cord and threw away the razor in the biohazard waste basket AFTER the hospital staff said to just throw it on the floor and our pediatrician promptly yelled at them that that was NOT ok. I didn't have my glasses on, but I could see that they were checking the baby's heart rate (which was exorbitantly fast) and doing something with his arm. After things calmed down, Reid came back over and we decided officially that his name would be Daniel Richard, one of maybe three times I've seen actual tears in my husband's eyes. They wrapped Daniel up and brought him over to me and I finally got to hold him and have our first moment of breast feeding.

Still on the birthing table almost an hour later, most of the staff had left, Reid, Lina, and Daniel had gone back to our room, and I lay there feeling like my lower body had been run over by a dump truck, wondering how in the world I was ever going to get off the table. Two Indian help staff ladies were nervously discussing something, holding gauze and bandages and pointing at different parts of me. I realized they did not know what to do. They finally got up to courage to ask the remaining nurse in the room who was writing notes on a clipboard. She briefly described something in Hindi and also pointed to parts of me and then left the room. The two ladies looked terrified. I mustered a smile and they slowly began to put on what felt like the worlds biggest home made diaper. They helped me put on a new gown, get off the table and into a wheel chair, and back to my room. I smiled at them and they looked beyond relieved.

For the next four days these two room cleaners/assistants constantly came in to check on me and try to communicate in some way, thrilled to have contact with Americans (and also thrilled I think that I didn't yell at them or get them in trouble some way). The phrase that the nurses and assistants kept telling me with wide eyes was "madam, so strong"- again, they were so amazed that I had made it through without pain killers (though, was on pain killers AFTER!) and I have to say that if I had had a really long labour, I don't know if I would have made it through without that epidural, but, I'm still a little proud of myself all the same.

We learned shortly after being back in our room that the vacuum had indeed gotten the head out, but that the shoulders got stuck. I guess this is a very dangerous and serious situation as the baby goes into distress but doing an emergency c-section is no longer a possibility. I guess nature knows best because Daniel's right collar bone broke and that's how he was finally able to get out. I was horrified to see the x-ray, feeling like I had damaged my baby and convinced that I could have pushed harder or done something better, frustrated with my body for getting weaker at the end, but finally let it go after much reassuring from the doctors that it would heal fast, there was no nerve damage, and that it really was the best case scenario for that situation and that all would be fine.

I could write a whole other entry on the first few days after. I didn't cry with joy or feel stressed, scared, or anything that you see in the movies. It was like "ok, now we're parents" and it was all totally... normal.

The hospital time was quiet, restful, sweet (they set up a candlelight dinner for us one night). We left and came home. The moment I walked into our apartment, holding my son, I started to cry. We were home. How much had changed since the last time I walked into that room? I was so... happy. Though pregnancy can seem like forever, 38 weeks, or any amount of time, is insufficient to prepare you for whenever that moment of realization comes.

I'm still in shock. I look down at him sometimes and wonder- are you really mine? Were you really what was kicking and hiccuping inside of me all this time? Can it be possible? Can you really be as beautiful as I think you are?

But mostly, I think about just how blessed Reid and I really are- in one another and now with our child. We've been through ten years together (our 7th wedding anniversary is this summer), and been through many adventures- our senior year of college, living in an Aztec village in Mexico and starting a community band, our first years of teaching, buying a house, moving/traveling to India, back packing in the British Isles and Scandinavia, hiking up Mt. Kinabalu in Borneo.... but, even though we're only one month into it, I know this parenting experience will be our biggest, and best adventure to come.

The Bureaucracy of a Birth Certificate in Bandra

I'd like to begin this entry with a disclaimer: I love India and this post is not meant to degrade or denigrate any part of the Indian government, rather it is a perspective from a foreigner.  The views represented are merely commentary.

The day after our son Daniel was born, I spent about fifteen minutes going through the paperwork involved in obtaining a birth certificate.  This included triple and quadruple checking his name, the spelling, our address here in Mumbai, our address back home in Minneapolis, and the details of our marriage.  I suspect it is similar to a form that one would fill out in America, maybe not the asking for our religion part though.  After finishing the forms, I was told to call the Bandra office for births and deaths in 15 days to get the birth certificate.

So I did.  On New Years Eve, I went to the office to pick it up -- but I should have known it would not be so easy ...

To start with, this is the first office (out of three) that one encounters to obtain a birth certificate.

Unfortunately, no one at the office spoke enough English and my Hindi is so basic that I had to have another newly-minted-proud-papa help me through the process.  We filled out a form and the gentlemen at desk used his computer to look up our details.  He gave me another form to fill out with Daniel's name, address, and our contact details.

We then went to a different office to give them the document request form.  I had to pay 22 rupees, found a cashier that spoke English, and she printed out a receipt for me so that I could pick up the birth certificate from the head desk.  Then I had to go and get the purple stamp of approval from a third office.  However, as I was walking over there I noticed the name on the birth certificate -- yikes!!

Unfortunately there is only one person in all of Bandra who had the authority to make my son a Wixson, he was legally a Richard!  And she was out for the day, I was told to come back the next ...

... so I did, but was told she was out for the day.  I was told to come back the next ...

... so I did, but she wasn't there.  As I walking out to the street chai stand a gentlemen came running out yelling "sir, sir!  madam is here!"

And so with the click of a keystroke on her computer, our son is legally back to being a Wixson.  Dr. Meena was a delight to talk to and was, like so many other Indians, so excited to hear my thoughts on India.  As I was suppressing the complaints about the bureaucracy and frustration with filling out so many forms only get it wrong, I realized that there are 22 million people here in this city and although the system of keeping track of all of their offspring may not be fast and efficient, it does work and that in itself is a minor miracle.

So I replied, as I always do, with my general comments about the warmth of the people, the spectacular colors and smells, and the long and complex history that continues to amaze and educate me here in India.  She smiled and thanked me and we parted ways.

And now we get to apply for U.S. citizenship, a passport, and an Indian visa for our little man -- many more lessons to come I'm sure.

So here's my question for you: what was it like getting a birth certificate where your son/daughter was born?  What comparisons can you make?  I look forward to reading your responses!

Reid and Jordan Ramble Through Ranthambore

For Thanksgiving, Jordan and I visited Ranthambore National Park on the search for a tiger.  We came away without seeing one -- just missing on several occasions -- but had a great time nonetheless.  

The wildlife highlights were:

 -- a family of mongooses

 -- a beautiful horned owl

 -- hundreds of sambar deer

-- a few crocs

-- and the true highlight, a leopard!

                                     

It was a super fun weekend with a bit driving through the countryside, at times with less-than-amazing taxi drivers, but the resort we stayed was comfortable and was plenty stocked!

Introducing Daniel Richard Wixson

On Monday morning, we awoke to a sudden surprise, our baby was ready to arrive -- about two weeks early.  Some of us still showered and shaved as if going to work as all was in a bit of a flux, but after checking in with our amazing midwife, there would be no going to school that day.  By 8:30am we were checked in at Hinduja Hospital in Khar, just a mere 8min drive from our apartment (of course Ganesh drove!).  A few hours later we were in the delivery room and just after noon Daniel came into this world.  He's a charmer and he has already got us smitten, especially with his cute little whimpers and sneezes.  Today we take him home to Silver Springs and just like that our world has changed for the better.  For awhile, I'm sure that this blog will change focus from traveling in India to parenting in India and the joys and challenges that brings.  For now, it's rest, feed, poop, change, repeat.

A Few Days in Nashik

                                     
As I look over at the list of blogs of our fellow ASB blogging friends, I've noticed that everyone seems to be a blogging funk lately.  I have felt a bit overwhelmed with experiences to get the 'ink on the paper' as we have had several shorter adventures lately that don't seem 'blog-worthy.'  Nashik is definitely blog-worthy and despite just spending two days there it's a place I'd recommend seeing.

The city revolves around the Godavari River and is one of the four holy cities that host the Kumbh Mela, the largest religious gathering for Hindus that happens every few years.  By day we explored the city, a Buddhist monastery site, and the cliche but interesting tour of Sula Vineyards, India's largest winery.  By day, the city didn't blow me away.  Like many of the million-plus populated cities in India, Nashik suffers from a case of either too many vehicles or not wide enough street and too much dust.

                                   
By night, the center of town pulses with Hinduism.  People of all ages and families of all sizes come down to the river by the main temple to light diyas, small oil lamps, that they float out into the river.  As the complex is bathed in a soft street light from above, the floating candles add immensely to the atmosphere.

From the alleys surrounding the temple area and alongside the river, we heard circles of Hindus singing with drum and finger cymbal accompaniments with varying aged participants.  For one, I tried to capture the experience with the new video camera (thanks Mom and Dad!).  The sounds were enchanting as they echoed throughout the old stones and across the river.

So it may not be Varanasi full of burning and learning and slow boat rides and river dolphins, but Nashik is a holy place worthy of attention.

Ganesh Takes Us to the Garba

Of all of the experiences that we've had here in Mumbai exploring this fascinatingly diverse and chaotic city, last night may have been the most memorable.  Our driver Ganesh invited us to celebrate Navrati with his family at their 'colony' up in Borivali, a northern suburb.  Their colony is a middle class neighborhood comprising of about 20 six-story buildings with two-room apartments -- living room and kitchen -- organized around several common outdoor areas.  This in itself was an experience.  As we went up to their apartment, neighbors poured in to say hello and have their pictures taken with us.  Ganesh and his family were very proud to show off their 'boss.'

We chatted mostly with his daughter Punam, second from the left, as she is on the India National Women's cricket team and speaks excellent English.  She left for Hong Kong this morning for a three-week international tournament and proudly showed us pictures of her playing and of course, posing with the cricket God, Sachin Tendulkar, as they practice at the same field.

Before we went, Ganesh's wife Gita gave us a traditional blessing with some of the strongest tikka paint  we've had in 2+ years in India -- it's still on our foreheads after a shower and a good scrub this morning.

                                       

From their apartment, we watched the crowd gathering on the lawn and heard the music crescendo so that by the time we joined in, there were well over 500 people all dancing.  The dance, called the Garba, is basically a two-step dance where the participants form a circle and slowly rotate counter-clockwise.  The participants would mimic each other's variations on the basic steps and through innovation and changes in the music various additions would be made.  Needless to say, Rachel was a real pro and the kids kept encouraging Mr. Reid to do the steps more correctly!

As with many experiences, we were overwhelmed with kindness by the people at the dance.  One woman just grabbed Rachel's hand and dragged her in to the circle, several boys were constantly surrounding me with encouragement, and Ganesh and his family were dancing right beside us.

The whole reason for this festival, nine nights in total, is to celebrate the Goddess Durga (pictured below).  Several of the boys I was chatting with referred to her as the Mother and we've also heard her referred to as the warrior Goddess.  She is particularly popular with Gujarati and Bengali Hindus so naturally, all of Mumbai seems to be in celebration!

After learning the steps and enjoying the locals, Punam, with her cricket connections, had arranged for us to get passes to a more elaborate private party.  Unfortunately, the party ended shortly after we arrived due to a miscommunication, but we still got to see well over 3,000 people dressed up dancing to a live band.  Interestingly, there wasn't one big circle like at the colony party we had just came from, but instead hundreds of smaller circles had developed.  Each had a different group of families or friends.  Many were filled with elaborately dressed Gujaratis and what impressed us most was the excitement amongst the 20-30 year olds who were happily dressed in traditional costumes dancing up a storm.  With all the different groups, the big stage, video screens, the colorful lights and flashy costumes, it felt like one big Indian Phish concert.

With the festival halfway through, no doubt we will experience and witness more of this amazing festival this coming week.  On Thursday, in true Mumbai fashion, families will bring their Durga statues to the beaches up and down the coast to solemnly immerse them in the sea.  

We continue feel so blessed to be a part of this extraordinary city where the culture is so vibrant and the people so welcoming.  

Welcome to Odisha (formerly Orissa)

It is cliche to write, but to say that India is a vast and diverse place would be an understatement.  For our four-day weekend commemorating Gandhi's birthday, we flew to the east coast state of Odisha.  There, we got a short glimpse into a new cuisine, language, and encountered many locals fascinated by a foreign face.

We began in the capital city of Bhubaneswar, a quixotic city with a modern set of wide, green boulevards across the train tracks from a centuries old, temple-filled, ancient city.  We enjoyed seeing temples dating back from the 7th c. right in the middle of the chaos around.  We've seen a lot of carved rock here in India, but these temples were unique for the shape of their carved domes.

Outside the city these is a cave complex that was carved out by the Jains in 1st c. B.C., several centuries before the Jains carved their caves in Ellora.  The monastic dwellings were significantly shorter and less ornate that Ellora, but still beautiful with their simplicity    

After two-hour taxi ride to the South East, we found ourselves in Konark at the lovely Lotus Eco Resort.   The resort is perched on the bank of the river (pictured below) right where the river empties out into the Bay of Bengal.  It was a luxuriously quiet retreat with friendly staff (again, so taken aback by having foreigners) and even an organic vegetable garden.

The village of Konark is also home to the massive 13th c. Sun Temple (pictured below).  In our many tours of temples here in India, this one is unique for it's abundance of symbolism and stories in the carvings.

The complex is set up as a chariot with 24 wheels, each ornately carved with eight spokes representing the different sections of the day.  Also pictured are scenes from daily life including a woman with Japanese sandals and a king receiving a giraffe from an African emissary which demonstrate the vast trade network these people had. 

 Some detail on the temple was never finished and other areas were partially destroyed by cyclones, the Portuguese, and a few Muslim raiders.

One of the dominant themes through were the erotic carvings.  Many nudes, kama sutra poses, three-ways decorated the upper panels of the walls, supposedly out of sight from the young children.

 Needless to say, this temple was another of those mind-blowing days in India where you sit back and appreciate the architectural and artistic merits of the past.

We enjoyed relaxing on the beach for the rest of our time in Konark.  It was an 8km stretch and it was just us a few unsuccessful fisherman, who entertained us with their interesting fishing methods.

A highly recommended short travel trip for anyone interested in seeing a different side to Hinduism, of India, and a quiet beach to sit and process two and half years traveling around this amazing country.