Good Baby News!

She flipped! Yayyyyy!

I had an OB appointment this morning, and I'm dilated to a 1, the bebe has flipped to a head-down presentation, and she's gotten much lower (which explains the increased pelvic pressure I've been feeling). On top of that, I only gained 1/2 a pound in more than two weeks--despite all that food I've been eating! This is particularly amazing to me, but maybe it means I've been making up for it with all the walking around airports??

Thanks to all who wished happy baby-flipping thoughts my way, and let's just hope she stays this way!

AcadeMama Goes to Washington City

*hat tip to Lauren Berlant, from whom I ripped off part of the post title

When I left College Town on Wednesday, I had no idea that it would take longer to get from College Town to Richmond, VA (27 hours) than it did to get from Home State City to Doha, Qatar (26 hours). The first flight got delayed because of mechanical difficulties, which made me miss my connection in Houston. After getting a seat on the next flight out to Richmond (7:00 p.m.), I then got to sit on the runway for 2 hours (air traffic backup and rain), where our pilot then "timed out" and informed us that it would be a violation of FAA regulations for him to take off. Upon returning to gate 30 minutes later, the doors were not opened, and we were kept on the plane another half hour, while they called around to see if we could get another pilot. No food. No water. No bathroom. Finally, after almost 3 hours, I couldn't hold it anymore--I am 8 months pregnant after all--and I asked if I could run to the restroom at the gate. They let me off the plane for a potty break and some fresh air, and about 20 minutes later they let everyone else off. This is about 10:00 p.m. For the next two hours, they try to find a new pilot, tell us they've found a new pilot, continue to push back the departure time, only to ultimately cancel the flight at 12:30 A.M.(!!) and explain that they can't put anyone up in a hotel because it's wasn't their fault---it was weather-related difficulties. Skipping ahead....I finally got to bed in a hotel room a few miles down the road at 2:00, with a 6:00 a.m. wake-up call so I could make the next flight out to Richmond the next day.

Oh yeah, my flight was scheduled to arrive in Richmond at 2:00. I was scheduled to present my paper at 2:30. Forgive me if I was skeptical.

Somehow, I made it in the hotel door at 2:20, checked my luggage with the concierge, and sat down with my panel with five minutes to spare. The presentation went very well, though my paper wasn't as "clean" as I'd planned it to be. I just ran out of time, energy, and battery power to make the minor changes it needed.

My first ASECS was a really great experience. It was like being at a rock concert where all my favorite bands are playing.....um, except this was the academic nerd version ;-) I met several scholars whose work I've long admired and who are heavy-hitters in my field. I had lunch with one of my committee members and, for the first time ever, had someone tell me they'd been referred to my work on one of the playwrights I study in my dissertation (WTF?). I'm really glad I got to go to this conference before moving overseas.

I headed to D.C. on Friday evening, where my (child-free) uncle and aunt took me in for the rest of the weekend. This was my first time in D.C., and as much as there is to see, I only had a short amount of time. The cherry blossoms are starting to bloom, and the tidal basin is simply a stunning display of pink everywhere! Our first stop was the legendary Ben's Chili Bowl, where everyone from Duke Ellington and Barack Obama have stopped to enjoy a chili dog or a half-smoke. The atmosphere was better than any TV show could try to represent, and the food was great....standard diner fare, but better because of the music, the people, and the history.

Next, we hit the Smithsonian Museum of American History, and I saw Dorothy's ruby slippers, Julia Childs' kitchen, and Seinfeld's puffy shirt. I really wanted to see the Ladies of the White House Room, but the line for it was the longest line in the museum, stretching down and around several halls and one flight of stairs! I got E a pair of her own ruby slippers in the museum shop, and I got H some freeze-dried ice cream (what the astronauts eat), so I think they'll be happy. Unfortunately, my back is in pretty bad shape these days, and almost any amount of walking results in super swollen ankles and feet. As usual, I was over-ambitious about what I thought I could do for the day, so I ended up having to ask if we could just sit and rest for a while to give myself a break.

We finished the evening with dinner at Obelisk, a Zagat-rated restaurant that has a fixed-price five-course menu like nothing I've ever experienced. I ate everything from octopus marinated in citrus and cilantro to squab to smoked swordfish belly (my fav) to chocolate-apricot cake with German whipped cream. I'm lucky to have such a great aunt and uncle, because everything was their treat, including the homemade crepes with Nutella my uncle made for breakast this morning!! Seriously, I could get used to this treatment :)

But, I'm ready to see my kiddos and get back to work on my diss, teaching, and preparing for the new baby. Oh, and relocating halfway around the world. Now let's just hope I shaken the bad travel karma that's stuck with me for more the past week! And when I get home, the passport and travelling shoes are getting put away for a while.

Last Issue Resolved

The last remaining issue, the only potential deal-breaker for our jobs in Qatar, has been resolved. I spoke with our pediatrician yesterday, and he's perfectly happy to provide us with a 6-month prescription for H's medication, twice a year, which we can then fill and take her meds back to Doha with us after our visits to the States. Also making the issue less of an issue is a conversation I had this morning with one of the pediatricians at Al Ahli Hospital in Doha. He practiced in the US for 10 years, and 10% of his patients were children with ADHD, so he was completely familiar with our concerns, the medication I was asking about, etc. He asked all the same questions a pediatrician in the States would (What's she taking? How long has she been on the medication? What's the dosage?), and it was so nice to be talking with someone I could understand clearly as well.

He said our best option is to proceed with the long-term supply first, and he explained the major difference in how ADHD is treated in Qatar. A pediatrician cannot prescribe ADHD medication, only a psychiatrist can because it's considered a condition of mental health. Because it's a Muslim country, there are very few psychiatrists available, but there are a few. One was just hired at Al Ahli, and he confirmed that there's one at Hamad Hospital who works with children who have ADHD. The past practice has actually been quite strict, with doctors only prescribing a 10-day supply at a time, but he said this practice has gradually loosened up, and the doctors are increasingly seeing patients and prescribing medication on a monthly basis. He even called Hamad Hospital pharmacy and verified they actually DO HAVE the exact medicine and dosage that H currently takes--very good news!!

So, while we work through the system and the possibility of getting Hannah her medication from within Doha, we're comfortable knowing we have the prior option of bringing her meds with us from the US. The doctor was also able to assure us that we'd have no problem bringing them in the country. At most, he said we might need to show a doctor's note and copy of the prescription for verification, but we probably wouldn't even be asked for that.

With this problem solved, the university is moving forward with our draft contracts, and we're filling out applications for schools, passports, and everything else under the sun. Here we go folks!

A Quick Update

What a difference a day makes. Really, the next morning (Saturday), most of my worries, tears, and sadness disappeared. Maybe it was getting a good night's sleep. Maybe it was seeing my daughter run to me in the airport, screaming "Mama!!!" and wrapping her arms tightly around me. Maybe it was just being back at one of my "homes"....or a combination of everything. But, everything seemed manageable again.

Hubby made it back late Saturday evening, and H came back from her (biological) dad's house at the same time. Having all four of us together made an unbelievable difference in my mindset. I was able to feed off of H's excitement about the relocation, and simply sharing the positive vibes that we were all feeling as a result of being so happy to be back together made me feel like anything would be possible. We even had a quick drive back to College Town yesterday, despite all the Spring Break traffic from the returning students.

Now to prepare for ASECS and another round of air travel...oh, and opening ceremonies for H's softball team, and her first softball game tomorrow night, and meal prep so that Hubby and the girls will have healthy meals while I'm gone. Could someone let me know when the roller coaster comes to a complete stop?

The Long Journey Home Brings Doubt

Doha to London—fine.

London to DC—even better because it was first-class instead of business.

DC to Home State City—we have a problem.

As I fly back to Home State City, Hubby is stuck in DC’s Dulles airport, hopefully getting arrangements made for a hotel stay for the night. Somehow, somewhere along the way, the British Airways system failed to confirm his United Airlines flight back to Home State City, and when we arrived in DC, the flight was already overbooked. Tired, ready to get home to my kids, bursting with hormones and throbbing with the pain of cankles the size of canteloupes, I. Was. Done. My ticket was fine, but the thought that Hubby might not get a seat on the flight back was more than I could take. Actually I didn’t break down at first. I was frustrated, but I really thought we’d get everything fixed somehow after calling the travel agency our university used and getting assurance from them that they’d try to get it taken care of.

Yeah, well, it turns out that even travel agents can’t make seats magically appear when they’ve been overbooked.

I called my mom to let her know what was going on, mainly just to give her a heads up. I have an uncle in the DC area, so it wasn’t like Hubby would be completely stranded, but we had no idea if he was home, had plans, etc. I made sure to let the travel agent know that it was their responsibility to find an alternative flight and cover any accommodations necessary. While waiting to hear back from them, my mom’s reaction is what put me over the edge.

Mom to Me: “Sh*# happens. It happens to everybody. You seem to think nobody makes mistakes and nothing bad ever happens to anyone but you. But one of you better get on that flight because I told your daughter you’d be home tonight.”

As I started to break down in tears, all I could mumble was that I’d call her back when we knew more. Hearing me cry, all she could say was, “What is wrong?”And she really had no clue why I’d be so upset. All I needed to hear was “Gosh, I’m sorry this is happening to you guys…that sucks.” Or, “I can understand how frustrating that would be after so many hours travelling already.” Or, anything else that showed a modicum of empathy and compassion for our situation. Any of my friends would get why I’d be upset and how exhausted we both were. So why can’t my mother? Why does it seem like she’s never on my side? Even though I’m not surprised by her reaction—it’s actually quite typical of her—I never stop being hurt when she does things like this.

After everyone at Gate A1 saw my ugly-face cry, and as many people as one could expect willingly gave up their seat for comp tickets, I hugged Hubby, gave him the cell phone, and boarded the plane by myself. Things only got worse after that. I’ve spent the entire flight convincing myself this is the wrong decision. I can’t bear the thought of taking the girls away from their grandparents. I can’t stand the idea of my parents missing out on birthdays, special occasions, or just being close to be with us in case of an emergency. My body and mind are completely overwhelmed with sadness just thinking about relocating. I’m scared. No, I’m terrified that I’m making a bad decision, and I can’t imagine going through with this.

Doha: Day Four

* Posted retroactively*

First thing this morning, we toured one last nursery, the one we’d previously checked out online and felt it might be a good fit. It turns out we were right. Beautiful facilities, collective nap time, it stays open an hour later than most other nurseries, AND they take infants younger than 12 months. On top of all this, the baby room caps at 8 infants, and the lead teacher (one of three total) is a nurse certified by the Ministry of Health. Needless to say, we loved it! And, can you believe it’s actually cheaper than the Montessori we have back at home?!

After the visit to the nursery, we met one last time with the liberal arts program coordinator at the university. Basically, he wanted/needed us to give him an idea of whether or not we still wanted jobs. Actually, it was more like him telling us, “Okay, convince me this is the place you want to be.” We figured this was the purpose of the meeting, so we were prepared to give him a commitment. We said yes.

And shortly thereafter we were on a guided bus tour of Doha, complete with a visit to the Souq Wakif (anyone need a good sport falcon?), the camel market (did you know they like to have privacy when they have “relations”?), the world-class equestrian center, and an Arabian lunch at one of the oldest restaurants in town.
It’s amazing how quickly the mental flip switched from “Should we do this?” and “Can we do this?” to “We can do it” and “We’ll figure it out together.” After lunch, we headed back to the hotel for some rest and to finish packing. At midnight, we left Doha International Airport thinking the next time we come back here it will be to move into a new home and start a new phase of our lives

Doha: Day Three

Day three was the Day of Touring Schools. Lots of schools & nurseries (which is what they call daycares, montessoris, etc.). We finally found the first thing we've fallen in love with here: The American School of Doha (ASD). It's really fabulous, and it's where we'd want H to be enrolled. It's very much like an American school that's simply been transplanted to Doha, except there's obviously a more multicultural student body. They have beautiful facilities, class sizes are around 20 kids per room, and thanks to Shell and Exxon, it has resources that most elementary schools in the States don't have (laptops for the kids, for example).

We did look at another possible school for her, and we were distinctly unimpressed. So, we kinda had our first potential "deal-breaker": H must get into ASD.

We toured two nurseries, one of which follows a modified British curriculum but employs a lot of the montessori methods, and the other of which follows an American curriculum with many of the montessori methods. We were most surprised to learn two things: no collective naptime and no tiny babies. The assistant director at the first nursery, which was quite impressive, was in disbelief at the idea that an entire group of 2-year olds could all go to sleep for a nap at the same time. Instead, they have a "sleeping room." At the parents' request, or if a child appears to need rest, he/she is taken to the "sleeping room" for a nap, where he/she is watched and cared for by one of the staff. The rooms have tiny little toddler beds where they can rest at any time during the day if needed. In addition, the custom here is that children aren't placed in a nursery until they're about 1-year old (or old enough to sit up and pull up on their own). The idea of a 6 or 8-week old baby going to nursery seemed to shock the non-Western people we spoke to.

Of course, all school and nursery administrators confirmed what we've already been told: the entire daily schedule here begins earlier than in the US and is abbreviated compared to what we're used to. So, most schools begin between 6:30-8:00 and run until 2:00-3:00. This is partly due to prayer times & Muslim schedules and partly due to the weather during the hot months. And, I suppose, partly due to a cultural difference that places more importance on family time rather than 10 and 12-hour work days like we do in the US. There's also a difference in the class sizes. Though the ratios in the nurseries are 3:1 (children: adults), a class may have 22 children. Only about 1/3 of them go every day of the week, but that's a lot of kids in a room, especially when we're used to E's class size of 8 toddlers (two teachers). I was a bit put off by the large, loud nature of the classes, even though I knew there were plenty of teachers caring for the kids. We liked both nurseries well enough, but we left the tour with a preference for one over the other because of the nicer facilities and outdoor play areas. One was also more centrally located than the other. But, we were still insistent that we visit the montessori school I'd found while back at home. I found it online, and all the descriptions offered on its website really made it sound like it would be what was closest to what E is used to.

We were all toured out, so we called it a day and grabbed lunch. I'm scheduled to present at ASECS next week, and I have yet to revise my conference paper, so I took the afternoon to work on it a bit and take a quick nap. While I did, Hubby visited one of the main hospitals to see if they carry H's medication (for ADHD). They'd never heard of it. This isn't good.

We ended the evening with dinner at a really nice local steakhouse with the liberal arts program coordinator and his wife. They have three daughters and have lived here for three years. They too initially signed on for just two years, and now they aren't sure if they'll ever come back to the US; that's how happy they are here, and this is the kind of story we keep hearing. People plan to come here for a year or two, and they end up staying because they a) really like the lifestyle and increased family and/or research time, and b) like the freedom of not having the usual stresses that accompany an academic career in the US (committees, high teaching load, pressure to publish, publish, publish, and nonstop budget cuts). During dinner, Hubby and I made it clear that while we still have a couple main concerns--getting H into ASD and making sure we can get her medication--we're committed to this opportunity.