So, it's been a while since I wrote about little Frankie... Hard to believe that she's getting on for 8 months now...
The photos we had done at 4 months are everywhere - as you can see - apparently there's even a wall full of then in the HangzhouDasha department store. Frankie's even been on TV several times (something everyone appears to have seen here) after YY rang the local government hotline over our plight in trying to get Frankie registered here (that's been ongoing for months - more about this if/when it's ever resolved).
She is very rapidly moving out of the phase where I guess a lot of guys would describe as "Very nice... but what does it do?" to being a little person. Within the last two weeks she has learned to clap, can finally wave 'bye-bye' and, if you hold her up, dance to music.
I fear the guilt-o-meter has just been turned up another notch - particularly as I'm going overseas for 6 weeks in a couple of weeks...
Showing posts with label baby. Show all posts
Showing posts with label baby. Show all posts
Thursday, July 12, 2007
Frankie Update
Wednesday, January 24, 2007
Goddamned Chinese Bureacracy (again)
Excerpt from an email...:
"Hangzhou PSB (the police force - ed) told me that if a child born of at least one Chinese parent was born in China, then the child is considered to be Chinese. Though you have registered her birth through the consulate and applied for her British passport, she could not exit from China without going through the following step 1 & step 2 first.
1) Her Chinese Hukou needs to be registered in the Police Station in Gansu where her mother's is located. (that's 2000km away from where we live). The Hangzhou official told me that the details requirements could be very different in different cities.
2) After Francesca’s Hukou is registered, she needs to apply for a single-use Chinese travel document in Gansu PSB to allow her to leave China.
3) After she leaves China and arrives in the UK, she can go to a Chinese embassy and apply for a visa to come to China. "
Crap.
"Hangzhou PSB (the police force - ed) told me that if a child born of at least one Chinese parent was born in China, then the child is considered to be Chinese. Though you have registered her birth through the consulate and applied for her British passport, she could not exit from China without going through the following step 1 & step 2 first.
1) Her Chinese Hukou needs to be registered in the Police Station in Gansu where her mother's is located. (that's 2000km away from where we live). The Hangzhou official told me that the details requirements could be very different in different cities.
2) After Francesca’s Hukou is registered, she needs to apply for a single-use Chinese travel document in Gansu PSB to allow her to leave China.
3) After she leaves China and arrives in the UK, she can go to a Chinese embassy and apply for a visa to come to China. "
Crap.
Monday, January 01, 2007
I think this only happens in China
I know I'm no expert at baby wrangling but I'm sure I'd have heard about this if it happened in the UK and I'm sure it doesn't.
Just before the turn of the year, Frankie and YY concluded 满月 during which time the neither of them are technically allowed to leave the apartment or terrible ills will befall them. This is not, you understand, in the form of a curse, more an extension of hyperchondria. YY getting a cold a week or so ago was, apparently, because she'd taken a shower a week after getting home from the hospital. Any suggestion that she was nice and warm in the shower and that we'd cranked up the aircon so the bedroom was also nice and warm was dismissed.
Note: You get plenty of free advice when you have a baby in China.
One popular practice is to 剃头发, that is to shave your baby's head, as a means of ensuring healthy hair growth so, that meant a trip to "Being Mate Love World" - a shop I was mystified as to its nature on my first trip to Hangzhou but, it turns out, it's just like Mothercare on methamphetamines.
The growing numbers of wealthy middle class parents with, typically, one child on which to lavish their attention are clearly a ripe target for extracting large quantities of cash on 'things you only get to do once to show your love for your child' so, as well as getting a haircut, Frankie was also booked in for a photoshoot before and after the shave.
By shave, I really do mean shave as the photos will prove:
1) Deep in thought. Apparently not really sure about this.
2) Not sure this Mao Zedong appreciation society is really for me.
3) Nothing compares 2 U
After the shave the hard sell really kicks in. I thought we were going to get a few photos but when it is ever that easy (witness my 17 hour wedding photography ordeal). We ended up ordering a glass ornament inscribed with Frankie's birth details and a stamp of her right hand a foot (a palaver in itself) and a paint brush made from her hair.
Next stop was swimming or at least, floating with a rubber ring round your neck.
It does seem like it would be good exercise and might help with development but, does this go on elsewhere? Shops with large glass tanks full of babies? People might mistake them for menu items.
Just before the turn of the year, Frankie and YY concluded 满月 during which time the neither of them are technically allowed to leave the apartment or terrible ills will befall them. This is not, you understand, in the form of a curse, more an extension of hyperchondria. YY getting a cold a week or so ago was, apparently, because she'd taken a shower a week after getting home from the hospital. Any suggestion that she was nice and warm in the shower and that we'd cranked up the aircon so the bedroom was also nice and warm was dismissed.
Note: You get plenty of free advice when you have a baby in China.
One popular practice is to 剃头发, that is to shave your baby's head, as a means of ensuring healthy hair growth so, that meant a trip to "Being Mate Love World" - a shop I was mystified as to its nature on my first trip to Hangzhou but, it turns out, it's just like Mothercare on methamphetamines.
The growing numbers of wealthy middle class parents with, typically, one child on which to lavish their attention are clearly a ripe target for extracting large quantities of cash on 'things you only get to do once to show your love for your child' so, as well as getting a haircut, Frankie was also booked in for a photoshoot before and after the shave.
By shave, I really do mean shave as the photos will prove:
2) Not sure this Mao Zedong appreciation society is really for me.
3) Nothing compares 2 U
After the shave the hard sell really kicks in. I thought we were going to get a few photos but when it is ever that easy (witness my 17 hour wedding photography ordeal). We ended up ordering a glass ornament inscribed with Frankie's birth details and a stamp of her right hand a foot (a palaver in itself) and a paint brush made from her hair.
Next stop was swimming or at least, floating with a rubber ring round your neck.
It does seem like it would be good exercise and might help with development but, does this go on elsewhere? Shops with large glass tanks full of babies? People might mistake them for menu items.
Monday, December 04, 2006
Roller Coaster
Even with the (sort of, curse you Blogger) live blogging, I don't think I fully captured the range of emotions I went through whilst in 'The Vacuum' that is birth via surgery taking place in a foreign country in such a way that you can't see what's going on and you have no information.
Honestly, you can't help it after a while. I admit that I was pretty upset the first time that YY disappeared downstairs and it was a relief that she briefly came back so that I could at least say what I wanted to say before she went for surgery.
I do, as is probably clear from my blog, tend to 'overthink' things. This meant the following:
Hour 1:
Trying not to worry about it - all perfectly normal at this point. They do this sort of thing all the time. Etc.
Hour 2:
Surely they should be back any minute. Didn't the people in the next bed say it took just over an hour? Does this mean there's a problem? What if there's a problem with the baby? Will they just bring the baby back and tell me bluntly? What if there's a problem with the operation.
End of hour 2:
My baby's arrived. It's a girl! Knew that ultrasound couldn't be trusted. But, where's YY. How can I enjoy this when I don't know if my wife is alive or dead. There must be hundreds of cases where the baby is delivered OK and then there are complications with the woman.
I'm sure that having my brand new baby here should be fantastic and exciting and it is but... how can I possibly enjoy it not knowing if my wife is alive or dead. When would they tell me if there was a problem. Argh!
End of hour 3:
She's back. They're both back! Floods of relief. More so than happiness at the new baby is the joy that everyone's alive and well.
Everyone came home on Saturday so we've been settling in and slowly getting back to normal. Obviously, this is the 'new' normal that includes Frankie as she didn't really appear in the 'old' normal.
Anyone following the Flickr links will be able to follow the veritable fashion parade that Frankie's been going through, including this little ensemble. Well, the doctors did say it was going to be a boy...
Honestly, you can't help it after a while. I admit that I was pretty upset the first time that YY disappeared downstairs and it was a relief that she briefly came back so that I could at least say what I wanted to say before she went for surgery.
I do, as is probably clear from my blog, tend to 'overthink' things. This meant the following:
Hour 1:
Trying not to worry about it - all perfectly normal at this point. They do this sort of thing all the time. Etc.
Hour 2:
Surely they should be back any minute. Didn't the people in the next bed say it took just over an hour? Does this mean there's a problem? What if there's a problem with the baby? Will they just bring the baby back and tell me bluntly? What if there's a problem with the operation.
End of hour 2:
My baby's arrived. It's a girl! Knew that ultrasound couldn't be trusted. But, where's YY. How can I enjoy this when I don't know if my wife is alive or dead. There must be hundreds of cases where the baby is delivered OK and then there are complications with the woman.
I'm sure that having my brand new baby here should be fantastic and exciting and it is but... how can I possibly enjoy it not knowing if my wife is alive or dead. When would they tell me if there was a problem. Argh!
End of hour 3:
She's back. They're both back! Floods of relief. More so than happiness at the new baby is the joy that everyone's alive and well.
Everyone came home on Saturday so we've been settling in and slowly getting back to normal. Obviously, this is the 'new' normal that includes Frankie as she didn't really appear in the 'old' normal.
Anyone following the Flickr links will be able to follow the veritable fashion parade that Frankie's been going through, including this little ensemble. Well, the doctors did say it was going to be a boy...
Wednesday, November 29, 2006
Kangaroo Tucson
Q: When is a Hyundai Tucson not a Hyundai Tucson?
A: When it's a kangaroo.
Firstly, however, the important news... YY and Frankie continue to do well. YY's struggling a bit now the anaesthetic is all out of her system but is making good progress. Poor little Frankie got bitten by her first mosquito yesterday but is still a lovely little thing. I am finding it to be difficult to be as happy as I thought I would be simply because YY is in a lot of pain at times.
Last night the car decided that it wanted to impersonate a kangaroo and hop away every time it started off from stationary. Aside from the unpleasant feeling it leaves in the stomach, it seemed likely that this was a precursor to something worse.
Research on the web came up with nothing for kangarooing automatic cars. I have so far assumed that likely problems are:
1. Low quality fuel
2. Clutch problem
3. Gearbox problem
I have just arrived at the car dealer where I bought the car where I have been presented with a new option:
4. I'm an idiot and can't drive an automatic
Now, I might have accepted this were it not the fact that I was perfectly capable of driving an automatic yesterday morning and at all other times over the course of the preceeding year and don't believe that I simply forgot last night.
Fuel quality doesn't seem that likely to me as I drove about 200km since I refuelled on Friday without incident and adding more fuel seems pointless as I still have half a tank.
The idea of breaking down with Frankie in the back in the increasingly cold weather (down to 10 degrees C yesterday) seems an extremely unpleasant one.
A: When it's a kangaroo.
Firstly, however, the important news... YY and Frankie continue to do well. YY's struggling a bit now the anaesthetic is all out of her system but is making good progress. Poor little Frankie got bitten by her first mosquito yesterday but is still a lovely little thing. I am finding it to be difficult to be as happy as I thought I would be simply because YY is in a lot of pain at times.
Last night the car decided that it wanted to impersonate a kangaroo and hop away every time it started off from stationary. Aside from the unpleasant feeling it leaves in the stomach, it seemed likely that this was a precursor to something worse.
Research on the web came up with nothing for kangarooing automatic cars. I have so far assumed that likely problems are:
1. Low quality fuel
2. Clutch problem
3. Gearbox problem
I have just arrived at the car dealer where I bought the car where I have been presented with a new option:
4. I'm an idiot and can't drive an automatic
Now, I might have accepted this were it not the fact that I was perfectly capable of driving an automatic yesterday morning and at all other times over the course of the preceeding year and don't believe that I simply forgot last night.
Fuel quality doesn't seem that likely to me as I drove about 200km since I refuelled on Friday without incident and adding more fuel seems pointless as I still have half a tank.
The idea of breaking down with Frankie in the back in the increasingly cold weather (down to 10 degrees C yesterday) seems an extremely unpleasant one.
Tuesday, November 28, 2006
Signing Off
Well, what a day. I'm back at home and YY and Francesca are settling in for the night in the hospital.I'm afraid Blogger turned out to be a fairly useless product for live blogging from a Blackberry and I'm a bit disappointed that this entry (done through the Blogger interface) will appear long before the last three or four entries that I emailed to Blogger.
Suffice to say that Francesca was born in good health by Caesarian section. YY eventually was returned from the Operating Room and appears in good health and good spirits, albeit absolutely knackered and with no feeling in her legs.
Thanks for the well wishes received thus far and apologies to anyone who didn't get an email or a text thus far.
We Are 3!
At last, YY is back, Francesca is where she should be and we are one, small happy family.
At times like this life really is sweet.
At times like this life really is sweet.
She's Still Not Back
It's 3 hours since she went for the op but YY hasn't yet returned. A doctor has, thankfully, appeared and said everything's OK but I'll be only able to relax when I can see her for myself.
Our daughter (see pics on Flickr) has barely stopped crying since she turned up an hour or so ago. Hopefully that's not an omen for the future.
Our daughter (see pics on Flickr) has barely stopped crying since she turned up an hour or so ago. Hopefully that's not an omen for the future.
And Then She Was Back!
No sooner had I finished my previous lament then she was back. No, I'm not that slow a typer, she was kicked off the operating table to make room for an emergency. Apparently the other person was screaming the place down so it was probably a good call.
Not that I'm complaining. At least I can do it properly next time.
FYI, it has just turned 6pm here. The date and time on the entries are not this timezone but, presumably that of Blogspot HQ, in turn presumably in California.
Not that I'm complaining. At least I can do it properly next time.
FYI, it has just turned 6pm here. The date and time on the entries are not this timezone but, presumably that of Blogspot HQ, in turn presumably in California.
And Then She Was Gone
Heartless bastards.
I had nipped to the loo only to find YY on a trolley being wheeled away. I managed to catch up with her just as the lift doors were closing only for the nurse who had wheeled her in to block our (me and YW, YY's sister) and say "You can't come". And the doors closed completely.
I didn't manage a "Good Luck", "be brave" or an "I love you" before she went. For such an important life event, the 'lack of care for the feelings of the others' that is often shown in China really sucks.
I had nipped to the loo only to find YY on a trolley being wheeled away. I managed to catch up with her just as the lift doors were closing only for the nurse who had wheeled her in to block our (me and YW, YY's sister) and say "You can't come". And the doors closed completely.
I didn't manage a "Good Luck", "be brave" or an "I love you" before she went. For such an important life event, the 'lack of care for the feelings of the others' that is often shown in China really sucks.
Damned French Fries
The doctor has just been in and said that YY can do the operation now but... The OR was booked for 2.30 and now they're all full.
Time ticks by. YY has suggested that to avoid me getting too tired, I should go home now and come back and see my child tomorrow. In this respect, there should be a picture of her in the dictionary under the definition of 'stoic'.
The same can't be said of her stomach, the emptiness of which is troubling her to the point of distraction. I swear that the Chinese could have taken over the world centuries ago if they didn't have to stop every 6 hours for a hot, cooked meal.
Time ticks by. YY has suggested that to avoid me getting too tired, I should go home now and come back and see my child tomorrow. In this respect, there should be a picture of her in the dictionary under the definition of 'stoic'.
The same can't be said of her stomach, the emptiness of which is troubling her to the point of distraction. I swear that the Chinese could have taken over the world centuries ago if they didn't have to stop every 6 hours for a hot, cooked meal.
Still Waiting
One similarity of hospitals everywhere I guess. They tell you a time. You wait until that time and then. Nothing.
Monday, November 27, 2006
Waiting
Argh. YY managed to steal two French Fries, unbeknown to anyone else, but has just admitted it to the nurse. To be safe, they're delaying the op until 4pm (now 2:30).
Contractions are increasing in frequency and intensity so its happening today one way or the other!
What is it about eating and anaesthesia? Is it just the risk of puking or does the anaestetic actually affect the anaesthesia? Is it the same for all anaesthesia (I can imagine it might have an effect for gaseous anaesthetic, but an epidural?)
Contractions are increasing in frequency and intensity so its happening today one way or the other!
What is it about eating and anaesthesia? Is it just the risk of puking or does the anaestetic actually affect the anaesthesia? Is it the same for all anaesthesia (I can imagine it might have an effect for gaseous anaesthetic, but an epidural?)
Pre-op
OK, now we're in ECG while YY gets a pre-operative check.
As with many administrative functions in institutions throughout China we're waiting for the one working operative to come free. Of the other 5 staff members present, 2 are fiddling with a computer, one is sending text messages and the other two are braiding each other's hair. The idea that time has a value has yet to come to China!
As with many administrative functions in institutions throughout China we're waiting for the one working operative to come free. Of the other 5 staff members present, 2 are fiddling with a computer, one is sending text messages and the other two are braiding each other's hair. The idea that time has a value has yet to come to China!
Babywatch T+2
Well, this is proving to be a bit of a damp squib...
It's 2 days past the due date and all is well but, still no sign of a baby. Whilst it's a bit anticlimactic, I guess I should be grateful that I've already had 2 more nights of decent sleep than I anticipated.
It's 2 days past the due date and all is well but, still no sign of a baby. Whilst it's a bit anticlimactic, I guess I should be grateful that I've already had 2 more nights of decent sleep than I anticipated.
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