Jump to part II

The very subjective experiences of Martin the Dad.
Well, unless anybody objects I will keep this in English in order to reach a larger audience.
Disclaimer I can not guarantee that any of the below will be interesting, so read on only at your own risk.
I’d like to share some of the events that led up to my wife lying in bed tired but with a wide smile on her face and a little baby boy sleeping beside her. Not those events, of course – we’re in China and I don’t want to get arrested for indecent writing ;-)
The beginning In June 2004, Michelle and I were traveling for two weeks in the Sichuan mountains, doing some hiking and other pleasurable things, generally having a really good time at as much as 4000 meters altitude. When the time came to go back to Beijing, we took a plane from Chengdu in Sichuan. That morning, Michelle complained about nausea and dizziness which I jokingly commented with “Wife, you’re not pregnant, are you?” but otherwise attributed it to the ungodly time at which we had to leave for the airport and the meager breakfast we had had.
Back in Beijing, she felt better, but the next morning was pretty much the same. When she went to the office the next day and told her colleagues about her strange “sickness’, some major bell-ringing took place among her female colleagues, probably the size of Big Ben. “You’re pregnant, lady.” When she called me on the phone to report the diagnosis given by her colleagues, there was more than just a little bit of trembling, anxiousness and disbelief in her voice.
Kids? Us? Now, don’t get me wrong, we both like kids and everything, but preferably if they’re other parents’ kids and we don’t need to spend more than one afternoon with them. One would have to be in the state of severely reduced mental capability to willingly give up 90% of your sleep, income, spare time, personal freedom, and so on for one little creature which orders you around all the time, wouldn’t one?
Still, there was a chance…Michelle went to the hospital right the same day to find out if we were lucky or? When she called me on the phone later that afternoon, she was crying. “Positive, I’m pregnant.” I felt a bit dizzy. We had had some “close encounters” before – periods late etc., but it always turned out Michelle had not been pregnant. But this time it had hit us. Thinking of all the responsibilities that are attached to a child (getting it born right, choosing the right kindergarten and school, teaching it how to know what’s right and wrong, teaching it responsibility and moral values [while avoiding all the faults and flaws imprinted on yourself by your parents], trying to get him or her through puberty without losing one’s mind etc. etc.) – it all seemed too huge a task for me to tackle.
Doubts and discussions That weekend was filled with discussions, trying to sort out pros and cons, changes of mind (usually diametrally: I was pro, she was con. Then she was pro and I was con. :-), some quarrels and quite a few phone calls. In the end we agreed to go for it. Heck, so many people had managed to raise their kids (and have fun doing so), why should we be a failure in that department? None of the parents we talked to said they’d prefer to give their baby back (to whom?!) or trade it in for a young Labrador. Besides, it’s all step-by-step. When he’s in kindergarten, you still don’t have to worry about puberty. When he’s in puberty (hey, anybody know a way to just skip this phase?!) you still don’t have to worry about choosing the right university. When he’s in university – now, come on, time to look after yourself without your old parents...
The decision So we said yes. We want this child. We said yes to more than three months of morning nausea and strange appetites. Yes to quite a few puzzling mood swings of my better half ;-) YES!!! when we first felt the little fellow move inside his mother’s womb. And YES!!! when in the hospital I first heard his little heart beat like the T21 Beijing-Shanghai (tekuai) Express Train. Incredible!
Help from the parents We waited and watched Michelle’s belly grow bigger and bigger. Luckily, after three months the nausea passed and Michelle could finally enjoy eating again. Her parents came from Anhui to spend some time with us and help us with the household and cooking, because Michelle could not stand the smell of cooking (but could eat the food) and I could not leave office everyday at 17:30 to go home and cook dinner. Michelle still went to work and brought home a lot of theories and guesses as to the sex of our future little boss. There were talks of belly shapes, of facial changes of the mother, of eating habits and so on. I guess that’s what you have to do if official policy does not allow the doctor to unveil the baby’s sex until it can’t be avoided anymore. Which is, basically, when the baby leaves its mother’s womb.
Finding a name We didn’t take any bets and tried to find some nice names both for girls and boys. We also established a “Name-finding commission” which gave us some valuable input. Just for your information: If it had been a girl, she’d have been called “Nina”. I would have been happy with a baby girl, too. Honest! Michelle too. We are not very Chinese in that respect, the male successor still being the non-plus ultra, at least with most part of the population.
New Year’s Eve came and went, followed by Chinese New Year. Michelle’s company party (CNY party) gave us high spirits – she won a mobile phone in the lucky draw, yet another prize in quite a series of prizes (health club membership, coffee maker, plane ticket). So much luck should also be good for our little baby! Soon enough it was her last day at work & first day of maternity leave. Her colleagues gave her a warm goodbye and we received lots of tiny shirts, tiny trousers, little toys and so on from all sides.
Waiting... And then we waited. Michelle’s belly on the photos which we had taken earlier during the pregnancy now suddenly seemed kind of flat and small – it had gained so much in the last weeks. I asked her: “Wife, have you swallowed a football?” to which she only responded by hitting me, if I recall correctly. Her body weight had increased from 45 kg to 61 kg, dangerously close to my own Sumo wrestler-like weight of 62 kg. It’s never good if your wife weighs more than yourself.
With the baby’s ETA (estimated time of arrival) of March 9th still two weeks away, Michelle was getting a little worried that she was gaining too much weight. And indeed, the check-up at the hospital revealed that the baby weighed more than 3.5 kg and would thus be difficult to deliver (“nanchan”).
9000 monkeys Now, the hospital that we had chosen is the Beijing Fuchan Yiyuan, the largest gynecological and obstetrical hospital in Beijing. They handled around 9000 births in the last year (Year of the Monkey, a good year for getting babies), which is around ten times as many births as in the whole city of Kaiserslautern where I come from. Their experience (and the fact that we already knew a doctor there) was the main reason why we opted against one of the international hospitals that would surely offer a better service (and a considerably higher bill, too).
To cut or not to cut When I heard that the doctor recommended a Cesarean section based on the fact that the baby weighed 3.7 kg, I had some doubts. I’m no doctor, but what about all the women giving birth to 4 – 5 kilo babies without needing the knife? [I had been visiting some Internet sites regarding pregnancy, birth etc.] Is there a natural law that relates the head diameter or circumference of a baby to its weight of 3.7 kg? Which is what I would consider crucial: How big is the head. And, while we’re at it, how exactly do you know the baby weighs 3.7 kg?
A lot of questions, indeed. I was quite hesitant to accept that the natural birth which I had hoped for (Nature has refined this procedure for hundred thousand years, it should be working pretty OK by now!) would be replaced by surgery. Michelle – who surely would have the last say in this matter – was not so sure herself. She had been convinced that a natural birth would be better for the baby and was therefore prepared to face the pain.
However, hearing experienced friends describe this pain, which is not like the pain when you hit yourself on the finger with a hammer or cut yourself while shaving but more like PAIN in capital letters, more like “The Mother of all Pain”, Michelle got second thoughts, understandably.
Going to the hospital With ETA 7 days away, we decided to go to the hospital for another check and then see what to do. Either have a Cesarean section or initiate the “natural” birth artificially. Waiting for another week would only give the baby more time to get even heavier. So we checked into the hospital on the afternoon of March 2, paid our 6000 RMB deposit (so we wouldn’t run away with our child right after the birth) and “got comfortable” in a 2-bed room on the seventh floor. “Bed Number 10”, this is how Michelle was addressed henceforth by all the hospital staff. The neighboring bed was occupied by a woman who had given birth to a baby boy two days before. Her occasional groaning and the way she moved through the room (when moving at all) made me think that a natural birth (which she had had) obviously was not a piece of cake. Michelle seemed to think the same; stamina and “pain-resistance” are not her most prominent characteristics, so hearing the roommate’s description of what she had been through further tipped the scale towards the Cesarian section.
That afternoon, Doctor Tian, who had been introduced to us by a friend of Michelle’s, arrived together with a superior doctor to have a look at Michelle again. They measured her belly and various body openings, estimated the embryo’s weight and size, asked once again about Michelle’s conditions such as her high degree of short-sightedness etc. Then they advised us to go to the second floor to have another ultrasonic examination made to get more details about the baby’s size. The result was an rather vague “at least 3.5 kilos” and a handwritten statement on the exam slip which made us quite nervous: “Mouth and lips not satisfactory”. Hare-lipped babies came to our minds, disformed small faces, and I have to admit that my calmness which I displayed to Michelle was only superficial.
Anxiety Up to then, there had been no doubt in my mind that our baby would be healthy. We had been hiking in the good, fresh Sichuan air when he or she was still a tiny clot of endlessly dividing, multiplying cells growing in Michelle’s womb. We live rather healthily, pay attention to our diet, hardly drink any alcohol and my cigarette consumption is about a package in two to three months. So in my mind it had been completely natural that we would have a healthy baby. This new possibility of a non-healthy child was pretty unsettling. We tried desperately go get a hold of Doctor Tian to give us an explanation of the ultrasonic exam results. To our great relief she told us that during the examination, the doctor usually tries to get a view from different angles and check on all the different body parts. In our case, he could not see the mouth clearly so he wrote [View of] “mouth and lips not satisfactory”. Thanks a lot for leaving out the crucial information and nearly giving us a heart attack…
Thus relieved we went back to Michelle’s room where I accompanied her a little longer. Doctor Tian had recommended to consult a ophtalmologist the next morning to see whether or not a natural birth would be dangerous for her Michelle’s eyes. That would help us make a final decision.
It's a Go! When I arrived at the hospital at 8:30 the next day, Michelle had made up her mind to have a Cesarian section. The doctor had said that short-sightedness of over 800 degrees (what kind of “degrees” I have never understood) was a definite indication for a Cesarian section. Adding on top the estimated high weight of the baby and Michelles rather narrow pelvis, the Cesarian section seemed to be the better choice. So we informed Doctor Tian about our decision and she helped us to jump the queue for the OP. She managed to get an appointment for 10:30, quite an achievement considering the fact that (as I realized when I was waiting in front of the OP’s door) pregnant women were rolled into and “delivered” women + baby were rolled out of the OP at intervalls of about 15 – 20 minutes.
A glimpse at modern baby production We completed the necessary paperwork, agreed to Doctor Tian’s suggestion of choosing a certain surgeon for the OP (which was combined with a 500 RMB fee: “dianming fei”, doctor-choosing fee, don’t try asking for a receipt…) and then went up to the 12th floor where the operating rooms are located. Michelle was pushed in a wheelchair and I followed, carrying the camera and a drinking mug which had failed to leave my hand when we still were in Michelles room. Then, at the outer door of the OP tract, my wife was inserted into the high-efficiency baby production chain of the Cesarian section plant. I missed my 2-second time slot to say “I love you, don’t worry, it’ll all come out right.”, stupid me. The nurse made her get up from the wheelchair and hop onto the bed which was then rolled away out of my sight in no time. I stood at the door rather helplessly, but not for long. A nurse pushed me out to wait outside the door or do whatever I want. After a short while I was called to sign some papers, acknowledging the potential complications of aneasthetics.
Waiting... An elderly nurse came out and told me to go pay 35 RMB for the pictures which would be taken of the “new arrival”, as well as various other fees. I guess she had served a few years in the Chinese equivalent of the US Marines (at least her tone and behaviour suggested this) so I did not discuss. The next 20 minutes or so I spent finding the right cashier to pay the fees. When I came back from my roundtrip through the hospital it was about 10:50. I stood outside the doors, sent a SMS to the colleagues in Shanghai and waited.
Our son has arrived! At 10 past eleven, a nurse opened the door and asked for the relatives of Wu Zhiqi (Michelle’s Chinese name). I hurried over and was allowed three steps inside the holy halls, where she presented me with a data chart listing time of birth (11:04), sex (male), weight (4010 grams) and size (50 cm) of our baby. She did this in the routine-like manner one would expect from somebody who goes through the procedure about 15 to 30 times per day. For me, however, it was the first time. So it might be understandable that among all these technical details I hardly realized she was carrying a little bundle on her arm which was: my son. Sven, the now official name of my now officially male progenitor. Wrapped tightly in white cotton sheets, squinting in the bright light, his black hair still wet and with a few specks of blood on his ear – I hardly had a chance to look at him, then he was gone. Still, I will never forget this first glimpse of him...
I had to wait another 15 minutes until Michelle and Sven were pushed out of the OP on the operating bed with wheels, tightly covered with blankets to hold off the rather chilly wind of the hallway. Michelle was quite pale,and even if it had only been partial anaesthesis from the waist down, she looked weak and hardly spoke. We took the elevator down to 7th floor and arrived back at Michelle’s room.
The yuezi starts here To be continued...here

 

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