10 Miles Uphill in the Snow: tuk-tuk

Today was one heck of a day. I'm not sure if it is good or bad that my high point of today was changing my little girl's diaper for the very first time. It's impressive how much of something that gross can come out of a baby just over 2lbs. I was given a 2 min time limit and I'd like to think I made my time.

Dr. Hitesh wasn't in until Monday so no taking care of business there, but there was drama across the way at the NICU. It did start off well, and I had an awesome time this morning at bath time taking pics and tons of video. We'll start with finding Mr. Vivek all discombobulated at the bottom ofhis crib with his hat, as usual, cast off to the side.

First up for bathtime was Princess Tara. She splays herself out and waves her limbs around frenetically, but doesn't seem to cry or distress like Vivek does. I think she likes a good portion of bathtime actually. I took two excellent action shots of our princess.

Here is a video of Tara's spongebath adventures:

Vivek on the other hand during bathtime makes adorable squeaks of protest:

Post bath time Miss Tara is quite alert, but Vivek wanted to go back to bed after a quick snack.

But soon after bathtime problems arose. I could tell my little chipmunks were hungry because they were pushing their little tongues out and restless, making sucking and smacking noises.

But the problem was by 9:15, 15 min after feeding time there was no breastmilk.the nurse had told me. I offer to go to Manju's room to see what the hold up is. Several things become apparent:

1. Manju has no pump of her own because the hand pump is shared between her and the other surrogate. I learned later they alternate every two hours who pumps and it is sterilized in between. This gives them four hour gaps and more rest and enables the two of them to produce enough milk...usually. I quickly decide to bring my hand pump at the hotel that I had bought for plane travel and give it to Manju so this won't hold them up anymore.

2. Manju keeps talking in Gujarati expecting me to understand her, and I never want her on my team at charades. She does point to her chest and say something that makes me think she doesn't have enough. I ask about the 2nd surrogate and she points upstairs. I am ticked because I wonder what Nita has to do that is more important than pumping milk for my babies.

I explain the problem to the nurses and Suvarna, the most amazing nurse in the world who is getting a huge tip when we leave, happens to have a 6 mos old baby and assures me that she will provide milk herself if needed to add to whatever Nita brings. I go to the hotel and sterilize my hand pump.

When I return at the next feeding it is apparent some more discussion has occurred, but I'm not sure what. Suvarna tries to tell me something about it when I hand her the pump, but due to the thick accent I have some trouble understanding it. Suddenly both surrogates show up, and I realized Suvarna was trying to tell me she was about to play hardball and take matters into her own hands...literally. She had made my low production surrogate come down so that she could assist her and pump her herself to make sure it was done correctly. She got almost enough milk for both babies but was a few mL shy. Manju did not seem all that happy about being manhandled, but I would like to have seen her more concerned about the welfare of my tiny hungry babies than her modesty.

The other surrogate had a long discussion in front of me with another nurse Anju who speaks some English but not much, and I could tell it was a lively one. The other surrogate Nita had struck me as a little pushy and I had been wary of her. I become increasingly nervous about the content of that conversation as I held my son for the next hour. When Dr. Kothiala comes in later as I'm concluding kangaroo care with Vivek, she compliments my singing and asks me about it. Turns out her CD broke but she had been playing classical music in the NICU based on her music therapy research.

I not so gracefully segueway the conversation into the drama that had been going on with the surrogates and twice delayed feedings due to poor supply. A pow-wow occurs where Suvarna and Anju fill Dr. Kothiala on what had gone on and I finally find out the truth.

Nita is my hero. The reason she had been upstairs was that she was going to all the other surrogates trying to get enough milk for my babies! I am almost certain that this was not the first time she has done this to cover for Manju. She also explained that Manju had been "losing interest" in producing milk for my babies. Don't get me started on how angry that makes me. Either work hard to produce or go home to Ahmedabad, but there are no free rides here. You'll get no sympathy from me because I pump every 3 hrs day and night for the one mL I produce, and she gets a liesurely four hours with meals delivered and no babies to see. I am not a rich woman and this is not a surrority house. (Punny right!?)

Nita also had a surrogate in mind who would be interested in taking over for Manju so she can go home to her family. I make sure Suvarna and Dr. Kothiala know that I am not paying for someone who is not dedicated and productive in providing for my babies. Dr. Kothiala says I should go to see Dr. Patel's assistant and insist that Manju be cut off and sent home, and today or tomorrow morning they will resolve getting another surrogate to pump for me. Her assitant was very professional and confident and spoke superior English, and I felt instantly at ease. Dr. Kothiala assured me she would also contact Dr. Patel about the matter post haste.

In talking to Dr Kothiala during the whole wet nurse drama, I learn some other good info. In about two weeks we will start using my preemie formula (Similac Neosure) that I brought. She uses breastmilk only until gestational week 32, which should be the end of this month. She does that to avoid NEC (necrolyzing colitis I spoke about in a previous post) but the breastmilk is not as calorie dense and they don't put on weight and grow as fast as they do when you add formula to the mix. She is using some fortifier but explained she has maxed out on that for now. She will also try bottles and breastfeeding at the switchover point because the sucking burns so many calories, she would rather have them on a calorie dense regimen to ensure continual weight gain. I also learn that preemies at this stage in her experience take 3 weeks to gain back birthweight, so all my concerns about Vivek dissipate as he is getting close.

After all the drama I decided I needed to get away for a while and go for a jaunt about town for lunch. I dropped by to see my new friends from NY, and told them I was headed to Subway and they joined me. It was a hilarious ride in a Tuk-tuk. Seeing a guy the size of a middle linebacker cram into one is comical, and when you add two women and the driver... It's not all that impressive to locals though cause I have seen about 7 folks crammed into one, and even more children on their way to or from school. The sandwiches and cookie were yummy and the second best meal I've had here so far. The place is as tightly in line with the Subway standard operating procedures and appearance as humanly possible in India, and the only main difference aside from localized menu selections were one side is vegetarian and the other isn't. It is a little further away, but worth the trip.

Tomorrow we do Alpha for lunch and will bring some back for my friend with her twins at the hotel, so I'm excited that I'll eat well tomorrow too and help them out again. But mostly, I'm excited for bathtime. And maybe now with having earned trust changing diapers I can look forward to another one tomorrow. How soon will it be before I no longer look forward to changing a dirty diaper, I don't know...

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.