Welcome to my blog. I write about fitting in, sticking out, and missing the motherland as a serial foreigner.


At the hospital where Sterling was born, the recovery room is a separate place from the labor & delivery room. So when Sterling was just an hour or so old, they wheeled us downstairs and around the corner to the recovery unit. And it was a really nice place.

Here's the view from the window. On the Saturday we were there it was pretty quiet, but on Sunday (the first day of the workweek) it was bustling with students and faculty. That's because this hospital backs up to the university campus with which it is affiliated. It was nice to watch the world go by from our little room.

While I was in labor, Jeremy bought out Carrefour's stock of 100 Plus drinks (they have yet to re-stock, by the way - I was just there today). We still had a few left for me to enjoy in the recovery room...

...alongside some truly fantastic food. I know that I was extra hungry, but still, the food was really good. It was semi-Indian cuisine, with lots of curries and plain yogurt and biryani rice. Delicious.

One thing that really set the recovery unit apart was the nurses. They were top-notch. Yes, they still came in at odd hours to slap a blood pressure cuff on me when I had just barely fallen asleep, but they were good at their jobs and so courteous and kind. I was on my own both nights I slept there (Jeremy was home with the girls, and also our insurance company would have charged him almost $100 to stay the night in the room with me on the pull-out couch - go figure!), and on Saturday night, Sterling wouldn't settle and I was falling asleep while holding him. So I called in the nurse at 2am and basically told her I was incapable of caring for my own baby. She very kindly did all the things I didn't have the strength to do myself - she changed him and burped him and re-wrapped him and dressed him warmer and walked him around the room a little until finally he fell asleep. I was so grateful to her.

There were a few hiccups with the room, like how the hot water in the shower didn't work. And how on the second day, the toilet stopped flushing properly. Also, on Sunday morning, this happened:

Yes, that is a window washer. Since I was basically clothed in a diaper and a glorified blanket, I made sure to just tuck myself securely under the covers while that guy was there.

Recovering from childbirth is not the easiest thing, and I was happy to get home, but my time in the recovery unit was as pleasant as I could have wished for.

The kindness of neighbors

First public outing