10 Miles Uphill in the Snow: Ahmedabad

So I busted Miss Tara outta the NICU a 2nd time and she is back to her usual hijinks. It kills me to hear her cry for more milk and to not be able to give it to her, but I remind myself that I'm the Mom and will spend a lifetime setting limits for her own good. Here is a video of her getting a "palliative" feed at the hospital yesterday. The nurses agree she is a hungry girl, and I had to remind the rookie nurse to cut my baby off.

It only took me only 10 minutes in billing and 30 minutes waiting for paperwork/medical records because I know the secret: Arrive early, then be visible and slightly annoying instead of following orders to wait in the back room. Random note: While in waiting rooms at the hospital I have become a champion of iphone Solitaire and Minesweeper, and now am rocking Angry Birds.

So within a half an hour of getting home we loaded up and went to the FRRO. The best description I have found on line in great detail is located here: http://ourgeminidragons.emaginations.com/wp/?p=454

My worst case scenario rather immediately came true despite pleading and groveling in two languages....they told us we had to return to Anand because their place of birth dictates which FRRO must do the VISA. I am functioning on auto-pilot with little sleep because Vivek thinks 4:30am to 7am is happy fun playtime. Frankly have been through too much to get upset, so a very eerie calm has taken me over. We simply came home and I started packing and taking steps to get on the fastest flight to Ahmedabad and arrange for a driver to Anand and 3 nights at the Rama Residency.

The family urged me to look into other options like using connections and bribing government officials, because going back to Anand will be a giant pain and extra expense. Bribery and using connections is how things work, or rather don't work like they should, in India. Manu went into overdrive and found someone who told him that if we brought a contract style document with proof of residency in Delhi that they might be obliged to help us. He wrote something up stating we are their tenants that may be stretching the truth, and will go with us tomorrow for one more attempt. If that doesn't work, then we'll take the next flight out to Ahmedabad. I think I'm going to pack just in case and it might help me feel more like the end is really in sight for this trip. 10am tomorrow we'll see what happens.

It's been fun hanging out with both babies again, and things are back the way they should be. Tara has been hanging her hiney out in the breeze all afternoon since she has an awful diaper rash from the stupid NICU not changing diapers frequently enough. It's already looking better from fresh air and liberal applications of Desitin. I'm realizing though that a little goes a long way and I have two econo tubs at home that will likely last me until potty training.

We hang out a lot on Dadima's bed since she bought a rubber blanket for that purpose.

Vivek is getting more active and grasping like crazy, but he is literally busting out of his clothes. I was very sad to do it, but realized I had no choice and cut the feet out of his sleepers. I stretch the cotton out as much as I can before putting it on him but you can see it pulls at the snaps. Tara's clothes will last the next 5-7 days we are here hopefully, but she is growing fast too. Why oh why did I tell Vinnie not to bring the newborn size clothes!

I asked Vivek his thoughts on the Indian bureaucracy we have to navigate and the crowded waiting room they insist I must bring the babies despite the risk of exposure to infection.

So I finally get to Mumbai after my all to brief layover in London, and have to wait for a bus for 45 minutes after waiting in several lines hoping I'm in the right one. I think it's cool that the customs agent recognizes my last name as and Indian surname and asks me about it. No one in America does, but here I'll see family businesses that say "Grover Auto Mufflers" so I know it must be semi-common. Without sharing a language, I seem to befriend and sit next to an elderly woman who is also headed to Ahmedabad and is worried she is in the right place.

The bus turns out to take us to another terminal, which is one big room with a few shops that are closed. Did I mention it is after midnight and my flight to Ahmedabad leaves at 6am and I'm exhausted? So I have to wait overnight in this room with uncomfortable chairs, but fortunately there is a snack bar. I learn a few things going through customs:

1. Your original boarding pass issued from your first flight is not good there. You need to exchange it for an Indian boarding pass at the flight counters before passing through the final security check for the waiting room.

2. They like to stamp stuff in India.... a lot! So when they repeatedly offer luggage tags for each and every item you have as carry on take the hint and attach it. They use these to stamp that something has passed through okay. Expect more than one person to stamp and screen you at every point in the airport along your trip to Anand.

3. I don't have my saree folded quite to their liking. I am good at folding Punjabi style, but this is my first time folding Gujarati style with the pallau in front. Females are examined by other females and go into a separate line. My security agent speaks broken English and is having a good time asking me about my visit, and is very charmed by my saree and how much I like to wear them. In the space of a few minutes I have three female security agents gathered around me re-dressing and folding and pinning my saree. It was hilarious and they are having a grand time.

When I finally am released into the waiting area I realize something. I am the only white person aside from one guy. The problem is that there is a room of 100 men staring at me boldly. Really staring. Not even trying to hide it. I don't know if it is that some folks seem to think I look like this one Bollywood star or it's the saree or what, but if you've never had a hundred men stare at you at once it is truly disconcerting. I will encounter a lot of staring on my trip, but this was the most bothersome. i walk around a lot to ease my nerves and when the shops finally open I check them out. It is all touristy stuff I've seen before and I'm here to make babies, not shop. I make this odd vow that I'll shop when I come back to pick up my baby, but have this strange feeling that I'll jinx myself if I shop like I'm not coming back in 9 months. I'm not here to be a tourist this time. I do take a picture of the Playskool Saudi Arabian Melody. Woo hoo for multiculturalism, but she can't be all that much fun to play with because the whole point of Barbies is to dress them up in cute clothes.

Saudi Arabian Melody

I finally get on the long awaited bus that takes you directly to the plane on the tarmac to fly to Ahmedabad. Unfortunately I realize I've left my packet with all my printed out info as well as pics of us for our surrogate in the waiting area! It even has bank transfer codes on some of the emails. I am proud to say that someone turned it into the security agents, who look through it and call the hotel listed in the papers to let them know they have it. I tried to send my husband to pick it up but by the time he is in Mumbai it has been over a week and they disposed of it at the ticket counter. Fortunately I have one photo elsewhere for our surrogate.

After a short flight to Ahmedabad I watch the sun rise over India with excitement. I notice on the flight that of all the music and Bollywood songs they could select from, they have "When a Man Loves a Woman" muzak playing overhead. Wierd. We touch down at the cutest airport I've ever seen in Ahmedabad. I find it hilarious that we get on a bus that drives us a whopping 25 yards to the entrance to the airport. I could have walked there in less time. I get my baggage, and the driver Indrajeet that Dr. Hitesh (Dr. Patel's husband who takes care of the business end of things) had arranged is waiting for me with a sign. I've always wanted to have someone greet me at the airport with my name on a sign!

As I drive through the streets of India right into oncoming traffic for the hour or so drive to Anand, all the memories rush back and it finally hits me that I really am back in India. Some pics are from Anand, but a few are actually in Delhi at the tail end of our trip when I got touristy for a day and shot a few photos of the local flavor to show what it is like and what you'll see. They look the same, but Anand is much smaller and less developed, and you see more trash and burning in the streets and things are more run down.