We are so happy to welcome our newest addition - Capri Patricia Allen!!
She was born on 20 May, 2013 at 11:12 p.m. She weighed 2.8 kilos (6 pounds, 5 ounces) and was 52 cm (20.5 in) long.
A U.A.E. Birth Story:
I had Dalila when we were living in Idaho, so I thought a little summary about our experience having a baby here in the U.A.E. might be interesting to those who aren't familiar with the medical care in Abu Dhabi. First of all, almost all of the medicines and techniques available in the U.S. are prevalent here as well, so there was no issue of insufficient medical care to worry about. In fact, with doctors from all over the world coming to the U.A.E. to work, there may be even more options for different types of care and delivery available to pregnant women here - especially in comparison to the small, one-hospital town we come from.
My doctor is a wonderful woman from Jordan who is extremely personable and loves to give ultrasounds. We were able to see our little peanut almost every time we went to the doctor - at no charge, as our insurance is AMAZING!! Each appointment cost 30 dirhams (US $8.16) and we could have gotten away with paying ONLY that amount for the entire pregnancy (if I wasn't a wuss who insisted on an epidural). So - an incredible doctor, numerous ultrasounds, and little money from our pockets equal positive experiences 1, 2, and 3.
In truth, most of my experience with the medical care during the entire duration of my pregnancy was very positive. However, there were a few exceptions. Due to the lack of doctors here, early labour in the hospital was less than pleasant. Let me explain. I came in to be induced and was sent up to my room where a drug was administered to help start contractions (NOT pitocin - yay!!). The ladies who came in to administer the induction drugs spoke to me in Arabic and sighed audibly when I didn't understand. Then, they spoke a total of about 4 words to me in English ("wait for 30 minutes"), carried on a full conversation in Arabic while their hands were in uncomfortable places and I had no idea what they were doing, then promptly left the room. They never identified who they were - midwives, nurses, doctors, random people off the street? - no clue! So I proceeded to wait as ordered. Thankfully, it was at this time we discovered another positive difference from my experience stateside - I got to eat!! Remember those flavoured ice chips that make up your diet for the duration of labour in the states? Not so here - I got a full meal for lunch AND dinner - and it was pretty tasty, too.
Soon, a much more informative nurse came in to see to my comfort and provide better instructions. After waiting 30 minutes, I was to walk around and move as much as possible to help jumpstart my labour. Ok. I can do that. I even got an exercise ball for bouncing on that Jeremy and I quickly discovered made a fun soccer ball (sorry to any patients next door!). The nurse explained that the drug could be administered again if I hadn't made much progress in another 6 hours. SIX HOURS!!! Ugh. We were ready to wait and wait and wait - certain at this point that we wouldn't get to meet our little girl until the next day.
Eventually, labour started to move along, and, after another 4-5 hours had passed, I was certainly starting to feel some pain. A wonderful midwife came in next and identified herself plus gave an explanation of what she was there to do - check my progress and decide if I was ready to move to labour and delivery. Her verdict was that I was at a 5 and could go to labour and delivery to have my water broken and get the epidural. Here is where another negative experience rears its ugly head. The dynamic duo returned shortly after my meeting with the sweet midwife to mutter in Arabic to each other and speak 5 more words to me ("you are only a 4.") HUH!?! So they made me wait in my room to labour a bit longer. But wait!! Only 3 people checking me certainly wasn't enough - so along came ANOTHER pair of Arabic ladies to check me and give their verdict - 4-5. Thanks, another set of hands was just what I was missing at this point.
FINALLY, things started progressing and I was feeling some intense pain. I gave in and buzzed the nurse to let her know I'm a pansy and I REALLY want that damn epidural, pretty please. And the most amazing thing happened - my own doctor came to see me!! Hooray!! So this is where things started to move much faster. When she checked me, she was very surprised to find I was at a six. She was just explaining that we can move upstairs to labour and delivery when, whooosh, my water broke. OUCH!! So, we quickly moved upstairs. How do we move up to the labour and delivery wing? Riding on the nice comfy hospital bed? Perhaps in a less comfortable but equally efficient wheel chair? Nope! I walked! Hunched over every minute from wickedly painful contractions I rode that elevator and waddled down the hallway in my hot hospital gown.
When we reached the room, I was happy to find that nitrous oxide (laughing gas) is perched by each bedside to use as needed during contractions. Hooray again!! I happily (and quite greedily) partook as waves of contractions washed over me and a nurse chose to ignore my beautifully blue veins on my hand and jab my IV needle into a vein just below the joint on my right thumb. Ouch again! That was the part that made me the most angry - out of everything. Really though, you should see these veins on my hand - a thing of beauty for most nurses, and they were passed up for a tiny little vein I couldn't even see in the most awkward place! Then, I waited and waited for that epidural to come save me. Another interesting note here that differs from my birth experience in the states was that we were required to pay for the epidural before it was administered. This is not covered by insurance unless it's for a c-secton and it cost 1500 dirhams - or US $408. Jeremy went to go pay the tab, but discovered that the administration staff had already left for the day. Fortunately, the drug could still be given, but we did have to settle that bill before leaving the hospital.
When the anesthesiologist was finally able to administer my long-awaited savior, she began to express a bit of concern over how late the epidural was being given. It took several contractions before it finally kicked in and we were all a little worried it was too late. Her explanation? "It's best to give the epidural when you are at a 4 or 5." YEP!! I knew it! Those darn unidentified ladies who couldn't be bothered to explain anything to me must have had it out for me. Oh well - I win - the epidural finally took and the rest of labour was a breeze. When my doctor was finally free to come and check me again, she was shocked to find that Capri was ready to make her appearance. I had laboured all the way to a 10 on my own before the epidural took! I loved being able to laugh with the doctor and enjoy watching Jeremy be the best birth coach around, so I was very happy with my decision to get the epidural. Jeremy learned to watch the monitor for contractions and instructed me on when to push even when the doctor was out of the room. Best birth coach ever!
So - after a bumpy start and some irritating moments (all of which could arguably happen in any city, state, or country), we had our beautiful baby Capri! Hospitals here can boast another positive over hospitals in the states in that they want to keep mother and baby for a full 2 days after birth! I had to beg my doctor to let us go home to my soft, comfy bed after one full day in the hospital following Capri's birth, and she only agreed to let us leave because she said she knew that my wonderful husband would be there to help. There you have it - a U.A.E. birth story. Not so different from any story in the states and the end result was just as blissful! But a WHOLE lot cheaper, too!! I'm now home with my sweet little family enjoying my 60 full days of paid maternity leave - another perk that is practically unheard of in the states.
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| Aww - our precious little peanut! |
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| The VERY proud big sister, Dalila. |
A U.A.E. Birth Story:
I had Dalila when we were living in Idaho, so I thought a little summary about our experience having a baby here in the U.A.E. might be interesting to those who aren't familiar with the medical care in Abu Dhabi. First of all, almost all of the medicines and techniques available in the U.S. are prevalent here as well, so there was no issue of insufficient medical care to worry about. In fact, with doctors from all over the world coming to the U.A.E. to work, there may be even more options for different types of care and delivery available to pregnant women here - especially in comparison to the small, one-hospital town we come from.
My doctor is a wonderful woman from Jordan who is extremely personable and loves to give ultrasounds. We were able to see our little peanut almost every time we went to the doctor - at no charge, as our insurance is AMAZING!! Each appointment cost 30 dirhams (US $8.16) and we could have gotten away with paying ONLY that amount for the entire pregnancy (if I wasn't a wuss who insisted on an epidural). So - an incredible doctor, numerous ultrasounds, and little money from our pockets equal positive experiences 1, 2, and 3.
In truth, most of my experience with the medical care during the entire duration of my pregnancy was very positive. However, there were a few exceptions. Due to the lack of doctors here, early labour in the hospital was less than pleasant. Let me explain. I came in to be induced and was sent up to my room where a drug was administered to help start contractions (NOT pitocin - yay!!). The ladies who came in to administer the induction drugs spoke to me in Arabic and sighed audibly when I didn't understand. Then, they spoke a total of about 4 words to me in English ("wait for 30 minutes"), carried on a full conversation in Arabic while their hands were in uncomfortable places and I had no idea what they were doing, then promptly left the room. They never identified who they were - midwives, nurses, doctors, random people off the street? - no clue! So I proceeded to wait as ordered. Thankfully, it was at this time we discovered another positive difference from my experience stateside - I got to eat!! Remember those flavoured ice chips that make up your diet for the duration of labour in the states? Not so here - I got a full meal for lunch AND dinner - and it was pretty tasty, too.
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| Our hangout for the first 11 hours. |
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| Last belly shot!! |
Eventually, labour started to move along, and, after another 4-5 hours had passed, I was certainly starting to feel some pain. A wonderful midwife came in next and identified herself plus gave an explanation of what she was there to do - check my progress and decide if I was ready to move to labour and delivery. Her verdict was that I was at a 5 and could go to labour and delivery to have my water broken and get the epidural. Here is where another negative experience rears its ugly head. The dynamic duo returned shortly after my meeting with the sweet midwife to mutter in Arabic to each other and speak 5 more words to me ("you are only a 4.") HUH!?! So they made me wait in my room to labour a bit longer. But wait!! Only 3 people checking me certainly wasn't enough - so along came ANOTHER pair of Arabic ladies to check me and give their verdict - 4-5. Thanks, another set of hands was just what I was missing at this point.
FINALLY, things started progressing and I was feeling some intense pain. I gave in and buzzed the nurse to let her know I'm a pansy and I REALLY want that damn epidural, pretty please. And the most amazing thing happened - my own doctor came to see me!! Hooray!! So this is where things started to move much faster. When she checked me, she was very surprised to find I was at a six. She was just explaining that we can move upstairs to labour and delivery when, whooosh, my water broke. OUCH!! So, we quickly moved upstairs. How do we move up to the labour and delivery wing? Riding on the nice comfy hospital bed? Perhaps in a less comfortable but equally efficient wheel chair? Nope! I walked! Hunched over every minute from wickedly painful contractions I rode that elevator and waddled down the hallway in my hot hospital gown.
When we reached the room, I was happy to find that nitrous oxide (laughing gas) is perched by each bedside to use as needed during contractions. Hooray again!! I happily (and quite greedily) partook as waves of contractions washed over me and a nurse chose to ignore my beautifully blue veins on my hand and jab my IV needle into a vein just below the joint on my right thumb. Ouch again! That was the part that made me the most angry - out of everything. Really though, you should see these veins on my hand - a thing of beauty for most nurses, and they were passed up for a tiny little vein I couldn't even see in the most awkward place! Then, I waited and waited for that epidural to come save me. Another interesting note here that differs from my birth experience in the states was that we were required to pay for the epidural before it was administered. This is not covered by insurance unless it's for a c-secton and it cost 1500 dirhams - or US $408. Jeremy went to go pay the tab, but discovered that the administration staff had already left for the day. Fortunately, the drug could still be given, but we did have to settle that bill before leaving the hospital.
When the anesthesiologist was finally able to administer my long-awaited savior, she began to express a bit of concern over how late the epidural was being given. It took several contractions before it finally kicked in and we were all a little worried it was too late. Her explanation? "It's best to give the epidural when you are at a 4 or 5." YEP!! I knew it! Those darn unidentified ladies who couldn't be bothered to explain anything to me must have had it out for me. Oh well - I win - the epidural finally took and the rest of labour was a breeze. When my doctor was finally free to come and check me again, she was shocked to find that Capri was ready to make her appearance. I had laboured all the way to a 10 on my own before the epidural took! I loved being able to laugh with the doctor and enjoy watching Jeremy be the best birth coach around, so I was very happy with my decision to get the epidural. Jeremy learned to watch the monitor for contractions and instructed me on when to push even when the doctor was out of the room. Best birth coach ever!
So - after a bumpy start and some irritating moments (all of which could arguably happen in any city, state, or country), we had our beautiful baby Capri! Hospitals here can boast another positive over hospitals in the states in that they want to keep mother and baby for a full 2 days after birth! I had to beg my doctor to let us go home to my soft, comfy bed after one full day in the hospital following Capri's birth, and she only agreed to let us leave because she said she knew that my wonderful husband would be there to help. There you have it - a U.A.E. birth story. Not so different from any story in the states and the end result was just as blissful! But a WHOLE lot cheaper, too!! I'm now home with my sweet little family enjoying my 60 full days of paid maternity leave - another perk that is practically unheard of in the states.
