Oh to be a mother.

Our little man, photographed in the
Special Care Nursery by local photographer
Danielle Stahl, for all the mothers
as a mother's day surprise. 

Waking up this morning after a sleepless night with a newborn baby at our home in Cape Town, it took me a while to comprehend the reality that I was in fact now, a mother.  I have to be honest and say it is not something that I always assumed I would be.  Instead, my foray into the m-hood was the culmination of a most wonderful relationship and long marriage to a wonderful husband, one whom I finally realized I would love to have a child with.

Coming to terms with having a child, and your first at that, is an incredible journey, experience, and the emotions are overwhelming to say the least.  Coming to terms with having spent six weeks nursing a premature baby, only to realize that once you get home, he is still a 'newborn' developmentally, and that you really do not have a six-week head start on things, is also interesting.  But coming to terms with finally having that tiny little baby that once almost fit in your husbands' hand in your home half-way around the globe, is truly a blessing today.

On this day to honor mothers in the world, I would like to give my special wishes to every mother, grandmother, soon-to-be mother, want-to-be mother, mother who has lost a child, adoptive mother, stepmother, honorary mother, godmother, stand-in mother, and in particular, every mother who has to spend the day in a hospital with her child, today.

Mothers, and those who support mothers, assist mothers, encourage mothers and love mothers - I salute you!

The family right before we left the Special Care Nursery on
29 April, 2011.  (Photo: Danielle Stahl)

BREAKING NEWS: We are finally...dare I say, home.

After more than 36-hours of flawless travel on the part of Luka (less so for his parents, Chris definitely fussed more, and Susan most certainly cried more), we climbed the 43 steps to our lovely home in the quaint seaside village of Scarborough south of Cape Town tonight.

The emotions are indescribable as we once again realize how futile our attempts at planning something as amazing as the birth of a child was.  We are grateful to so many people for so many things which we will be writing about in the coming days as we settle in.

For now, just a simple newsflash to let everybody know that after six (sometimes scary, sometimes frustrating, mostly exhausting) weeks, we are finally home, we are together, and we are safe. To celebrate, Chris fired up a 2008 Lanzarac Pinotage - like he says 'nothing says 'we're home' like a good South African Pinotage'

Much more to come, we promise.  For now, Luka is tucked into the bed installed and beautifully made up by dear friends.  Chris is heating soup left in the freezer by the same couple. And I want to let everyone know that we are doing well.

Stay tuned for the trials and tribulations of travels with a not-supposes-to-have-been-here-yet baby.

Luka's long way home Part II: Singapore-Dubai-Cape Town

At Darwin airport before our first flight to Singapore -
incidentally the photo was taken by one of the
Special Care Nurses traveling to Singapore with her family

Once we made it past the first flight, I could finally calm my nerves that Luka would survive the dreaded take-off and landing. It is amazing how illogical one can become in a situation as unknown as that of traveling with a newborn...thoughts rushed through my mind that I might somehow lose my milk on the flight (air pressure perhaps?) or that Luka would suddenly stop eating regularly, to name but a few of the million things that rush through your mind.

Luka's first flight - Jetstar from Darwin to Singapore

Fortunately, none of the fears materialized and he was a wonderful traveler. Apart from a few baffled immigration officers (including the same one I remember checking my passport in Darwin in November when we went for our 14-week Nuchal Fold Scan) we made it to Singapore without any hassles.  Luka slept for the majority of the flight waking a fairly regular intervals for feeds. Just to be safe, I kept my watch on Darwin time and logged all the feeds in Luka's journal to make sure that we kept a good schedule and do not risk losing any weight.

We had a four-hour layover in Singapore, where Luka and Chris settled in for an old favorite past-time...napping.

Having a little snooze in Singapore...

And finally, after 36-hours of flying, we arrived in Cape Town, in one piece.....we were greeted by a lovely sunset over Table Mountain.

Finally, we touched down in Cape Town...

 

Luka's long way home Part I: Darwin-Singapore

Susan decorating Luka's final cake  - "Luka 'heart' SCN"

Chris literally closing the gate on
our stay in Darwin 

Traveling from Darwin to Cape Town is not an easy feat on a good day unless you are a swanky businessman with nothing but carry-on, flying first-class.  Traveling there with a brand new infant that you have never even been to the supermarket with, for an extended maternity leave, is to say the least, not for the faint-of-heart.

Pre-departure shower with
daddy

As such we have tried our best to be as prepared as absolutely possible.  We have amassed most of what we thought we needed before this whole adventure happened through friends kind enough to carry baby car seats, academic books, and other necessities back and forth from Darwin to Dili (and back).  We carefully checked all luggage allowances and pre-purchased excess luggage to Singapore.  Chris even came to the airport yesterday to carefully weigh all our luggage to assist in the packing strategy.

Hanging out with dad

We called the nursery this morning to confirm when the doctor would be able to see Luka for his final check-out and weigh-in, then showered all three and kept Luka in one of the air conditioned rooms in the warm Darwin afternoon while we finalized the last packing.

Luka's hand luggage, changing pad, individually packed
outfits and enough blankets and burp cloths for a
family of Eskimos. 

So how exactly does one pack for a brand-new infant traveling for 36-hours across three continents to get home?  No bloody idea.  So just to be safe, I am pretty sure we packed enough nappies and changes of clothes for all the babies flying on Emirates today.  And because I am the organizing maniac that I am, and a general sucker for ziplocks, just to be safe, I ziplocked each of his clean outfits with a clean nappy and a nappy trash baggy for 'easy' use on the flight.  This way (the theory goes) all we need to do is grab the handy travel changing pad that contains his bum cream and wet wipes, and one of the pre-packed ziplocks when we go on one of the many changing runs we anticipate during the long voyage home.

And finally we're on our way.

Something I will probably never get used to, completing
departure (and other) forms for both my boys', with
the same date of birth!

Luka and the bear

As we adjust to being at home, Luka and his photo-obsessed mommy enjoyed not being creatively inhibited by monitors and other unattractive backgrounds like breastfeeding posters in the nursery.  Here Luka poses with his first ever teddy bear - notably bearing a name tag displaying the first of what is sure to be many name confusions - "This teddy belongs to Luka Marx" - sorry sweetie - at least we abandoned the thought of combining our last names into something silly like 'Marjack' or 'Serjax'

Here is Luka and his teddy...

That's right - work it, work it!

The camera loves you! (and so do we!)

Global gear for our global baby

Having Luka more than two months early on neither of the two continents we currently call 'home', has had an obvious impact on our level of preparedness.  Bearing in mind the comment by a good friend and colleague of Chris' when I mentioned to him all the 'stuff' it seemed we needed for the baby, he simply responded 'they didn't used to need that much', we figure that most of the 'stuff' we would pick up along the way.  The one thing we knew we had to have was an infant carseat.  Off we went to the only baby store in Darwin where, to our horror, we found a Chicco Key Fit for nearly $500 (USD)!

Whoops! How to have your baby re-confiscated by the
special care nurses in no time!! 

Now, I may have been unprepared for this whole ordeal, but I was not that unprepared.  As part of what little upfront research I have managed to complete prior to the birth, included a renewed subscription to Consumer Reports, a non-profit organization committed to testing and independently reviewing products.  As such, I have had our carseat picked out for months, and was intending to pre-order it to Cape Town.  Fast forward to our present location and the rather urgent need to obtain one unless we want to be seen carrying Luka from the hospital and to the airport on the lovely paved sidewalks.

Just kidding! He's with daddy!

Back to the story of the carseat in Darwin - needless to say, we were horrified that we would now have to pay more than three times the price of the same carseat available on Amazon for $165.  So what to do?  Well, Facebook the dilemma of course!  Within 20 minutes a friend and former colleague (well, boss really) of Chris' at the UN Office for Project Services in Afghanistan offered to hand carry the seat from his current base in New York City, to Brisbane, where he was headed, from where he mailed it to us.  Easter holidays included, our seat arrived in less than two weeks, and just in time for me to avoid having to walk Luka home on Friday (though 'arrived by plane, left on foot' does have a nice ring to it).

Million thanks Bruce!

My first car ride.

How it all happened...Part I

Alright, after all the comments we received from people begging us not to stop the blog now that Luka is home, and also the dozens of requests for the story of how it all happened, I thought I would use my new-found freedom from the confines of the nursery to jot down how it all happened. After all, how does a South African and an American who currently live in Timor-Leste, expecting their first baby at the end of May, end up delivering in Australia in the middle of March?  Seems logical no?

It all started on the 20th of March, incidentally also my father's 60th birthday which we sadly had to miss due to our impending trip to South Africa for our extended maternity leave.  In order to uphold a long-standing tradition of trying to throw Chris a surprise birthday party every year (any of our Iraq friends remember the one I arranged for Chris' 30th in Baghdad, while I was in Pretoria; who here went to U2 for his 23rd in Johannesburg; and the SMRC gang, who can forget the fabulous Big Bear weekend where we all met Stu's girlfriend (now wife) for the first time) I arranged the first-ever charter of the new boat of the dive shop in Timor where Chris is a part-time instructor.  With twelve divers and two pregnant girls on board, we set off for the island of Atauro for a day of diving, lunch and birthday fun.  The trip was a huge success (despite an auspicious second dive) and some fun snorkeling for those of us no longer 'fit' to dive.

When we got home, Chris made dinner and I sat at the kitchen table. I noticed mild 'cramping' and told him that it must mean I was experiencing 'practice labor' also known as Braxton Hicks contractions.  These mild contractions are common in the second and third trimesters and prepare you and your uterus for the real deal. At 30 weeks gestation, I was quite excited to experience them, thinking that my uterus must be working just fine.

I became somewhat concerned when the cramping did not go away overnight, since these generally disappear when you change positions or whatever activity you are doing, however mine persisted throughout the night.  The following morning I phoned one of the midwives who conducted a birthing class for all the pregnant couples in Dili that Chris and I attended. and asked her whether she thought this was something I should be concerned about. She said probably not, but to be safe, I should call the doctor I had been seeing at the Australian Embassy.  I did so and was informed she was at a meeting until 10am, I told the friendly receptionist to please tell her I was experiencing mild cramps, to please call me back. Promptly at 10am I received a call asking me to come in at 11am when she had a cancellation. In the absence of the Country Representative of my organization in Timor, as the Deputy Country Representative, I was currently in charge of almost sixty staff members and in the middle of a host of programmatic and logistical tasks.  I momentarily considered not going to the doctor, when I thought better of it, so I excused myself from my 10:30am meeting, and told my colleagues I would be back in an hour to finalize our discussion, I never returned to the office.

In the car on the way to the doctor I first felt something wet. I desperately hoped it was the heat and humidity causing me to sweat profusely in my old car with the broken aircon.  However I cannot deny I was secretly terrified that my amniotic fluid might be leaking. At the doctor's office she took my vitals and we discussed the symptoms, but she was unable to check the fluid because she does not have testing kits for amniotic fluid. I was instructed not to return to work, rather to go home and rest, that she would call me in an hour to check on me.  She also asked me to start timing my 'cramps'.  I started writing down the times and duration of the cramps in a notebook. When the doctor called and I mentioned these 'cramps' had moved from being 10 minutes apart, to roughly 5 minutes apart.  I would say that this is when I first heard the concern in her voice. She asked where Chris was, I mentioned he was on his way home from work - she said we needed to get to Australia ASAP.  The only problem was, it was Monday afternoon at 1pm, and the next flight left at 5pm - or so we thought.  Turns out the last flight for the next two days was scheduled to leave Dili for Darwin at 3:30pm.

When Chris got home he grabbed my passport and rushed off to the Australian Embassy to process the emergency visa I am required to have in order to receive medical treatment in Australia.  In the meantime, I continued to time my cramps, while jumping online to buy plane tickets, and pack for who knows what!  I remember standing in my dressing room thinking, what do I pack?  I mean, I could come back a mom, I could just come back a few days later, I might never come back, or I might come back in six months?  What exactly does one pack in these circumstances?  In my case, turns out to be my iPod, a camera, all my books on natural childbirth, and running gear for Chris (I was smart enough to think he might need to blow off some steam at some point), and the locket my dad gave me for my 21st birthday before I moved to the US with Chris.

A driver from my office picked me up and took me back to the doctor who had since been in touch with a doctor at the Royal Darwin Hospital. Based on the instructions from a specialist there, she administered a dose of nifedipine to try and slow the contractions down (and hopefully avoid pre-term labor), as well as a dose of steroids to assist in lung development of the baby in the event I did deliver early.

Thanks to the doctor and the Australian Embassy in Dili, Chris managed to get the emergency visa within the hour and met me at the doctor's office at 3pm, where he took the reigns of the vehicle and rushed us to the airport for the 3:30pm flight (note: as with most first-time dads one of his biggest fears was some mad rush to the hospital with me in labor).  At the airport we checked in, then spotted the midwife and doctor charging into the terminal, there to make sure I was still stable, and to check my vitals one last time before I boarded the flight.  

With my hopes up and my heart in my throat we boarded the 70 minuted Air North flight TL519 from Dili to Darwin.  While still experiencing the 'cramps' I clutched Chris' hand as I desperately paged through my books trying to find something comforting about pre-term labor...details were sparse.  Instead, we prayed that everything would be okay and that the trip only meant being out a few hundred dollars in plane tickets and a few days spent in Darwin....

to be continued....