Caliban – Opinion and Righteous Anger

No blog entry yesterday. We were just too tired.

Today, I drove down to the Office of Vital Records in San Jose to hand in a completed form, containing Eloïse’s full name and birth details. In a couple of days, we should get a call to go back with Rosanna, our midwife, and officially register the birth. At that point, we’ll be able to obtain birth certificates.

As usual, there’s a fly in the ointment. Since this is America, the one and only country in the world and it’s a given that every person on Earth has American English has his/her mother tongue, it’s impossible to get a letter with a diaeresis into the computer system. Never mind that it’s a part of her name.

“What about the hispanics? They use accents and other diacritical symbols.”

“Oh yes”, came the reply. “They have something funny with their Ns. We can’t do those either.”

Sheesh! Something fuññy with their Ñs?

Of course, this wouldn’t be American bureaucracy if there weren’t more than a single fly in the ointment. In the land of the free where individuality is championed and diversity is celebrated, something as fundamentally individual as naming one’s child is expected to conform to the rigours of a staid and unimaginative template: first, middle and last name.

Even the mere mention of the term middle name implicitly suggests the notion that a person has exactly three, one on either side of the middle. How ridiculous. Why not just have the concept of forenames and a surname? Doesn’t that allow the individual a little more creative freedom?

To cut a long story short, we have the option of placing two of Eloïse’s names in the box for first name, plus another two in the box for middle name. Of course, then she’s legally got two names for her first name, which is liable to matter if she ever chooses to spend time in the US when she’s older. She’ll end up an accidental redneck, with a name reminiscent of Mary Beth, Jim Bob or some other Waltons-like sobriquet.

The only other alternative is to file an application to amend the middle name field on the birth certificate to include her second, third and fourth names. She would then have a two page birth certificate, the second page being an affidavit with the amendment.

The absurdity of this beggars belief. The middle name field can only accommodate 18 characters, so we can’t just put her middle three names in there, but we can file an amendment to do so, even though the birth certificate has not yet been typed up. So, her names are too long for the field, but a note can be added to the certificate to say what it should have said all along.

Nice: a two page birth certificate. Whoever heard of such bollocks? One can only hope this won’t come back to haunt her later.

Once we have birth certificates, we can begin the next round of hassles of getting her a social security number and passports, both American and Dutch.

Sarah’s folks arrived in town this evening and seem very taken with their new granddaughter. And who wouldn’t be? She is a great looking baby, after all. It’ll be good having them around, as they’ll be able to take some of the strain off Sarah and me, particularly off Sarah.

Another lactation consultant will be coming in the morning. One of Sarah’s mammaries is still giving her gip.

It’s all go around here. I can’t imagine how anyone with a baby manages to fit in working as well. I’m very glad that I’ve been absolved of this responsibility for the next few weeks.

Our final batch of photos from Eloïse’s first week is available.

We are starting to get the hang of this baby lark now, or so it would appear. For one thing, I’m pretty good at changing nappies now. Sarah pours in the milk at one end, Eloïse converts it to mustard-coloured shit, and I collect it at the other end. What a team!

We took Eloïse to an osteopath in Portola Valley today, the same one that Sarah visits. He relieved some pressure in her skull and took the tension out of her limbs. She seems even more chilled out since that visit. Supposedly, this will help her relax and should make for better breastfeeding. We’ll see.

This evening, we found a vase full of pink lilies and tulips on our doorstep. This was accompanied by a note congratulating us on the birth of our new daughter. The package was a gift from my colleagues in Google’s Operations department. How sweet!

Tomorrow, Rosanna is coming over to do Eloïse’s PKU screening. After that, we’ll be paying a visit to Lullaby Lane to pick up a few missing items, such as a breastfeeding pillow and a few more disposable nappies, as she’s still a little too small to wear the cloth ones we have.

Oh, and we have more photos.

We were up early this morning for our visit to the paediatrician. That meant strapping Eloïse into her car-seat, which was a little tricky at first. I’d forgotten how to adjust the straps and had to resort to the manual.

Eloïse is doing fine. She’s lost a little weight, but that’s normal for newborn babies. She’s also a little jaundiced, due to the high quantity of bilirubin in her blood. We’re keeping an eye on that and exposing her to some sunlight to help break down the bilirubin. Some degree of jaundice is actually very common in newborns.

As I was changing Eloïse’s nappy last night before going to bed, her umbilical cord snapped off.

Even though it’s rotten and smelly, I couldn’t quite bring myself to throw it away. It’s so curious to have a bit of someone’s body drop off like that. I doubt we’ll hang onto it for very long, though.

There’s not much else to report today, really. Eloïse continues to cry very little and is a good eater, but Sarah’s boobs are still pretty sore from the engorgement with milk and poor latch of the first few days. Eloïse shows them very little mercy: she feeds frequently and vigourously.

I disassembled the birthing pool this afternoon and will be returning that tomorrow. Breaking it down was even more work than setting it up, I think. It was really hard work to coil the outer rim tightly enough to snap it into its binding.

As always, there are a couple of new photos to check out.

Whilst randomly browsing tonight, I came across this wonderfully balanced article on natural childbirth vs. interventions.

It’s exceptionally well-written and nicely sums up how I feel about the subject. It recognises that the complaints women on both sides of the debate have with each other are misdirected. The real enemy is misinformation and those who propagate it.

The truth of the matter is that many women believe they are in possession of all of the facts when they choose to have a desensitised labour, but more often than not, they have not been properly informed of the many natural means a woman has at her disposal for coping with the pain of labour. They are led to believe that the only thing medicated labour removes from the experience is the pain, but there is so much more to it than that.

Anyway, said article explains the issue far better than I ever could, so do read it.

Sarah opened the freezer yesterday evening and was surprised by the sight of her frozen placenta. We had no idea it had been kept in cold storage by one of our labour team.

We’re not quite sure what to do with it at the moment, so we’re content to let it hang out in there. That way, if I get desperate for a snack, I’ll have something to cook up and eat.