Keitt Update - May 2013

This month, as our first non-video month, we wanted to highlight some things that have been going on at the Keitt homestead, where the Coen kingdom is plotting a coup d'etat, but we're still standing firm :)  

Coen's a legal citizen.  Maybe he'll resent us later for keeping this picture when the man asked if we wanted to retake it... but it was just too funny.  (Plus, it's hard enough to get a 6-week-old to look forward, keep their eyes open, and not cry all at the same time.)  But Coen is officially a dual citizen with 2 passports and one heck of a Chilean ID.

We have our permanent visas.  Remember all those prayer requests for favor with paperwork?  Not only did we get favor, we got it months earlier than we thought we'd even hear a response.  In Chile, this is truly a miracle.

John came to visit.  Our friend John Turner got to visit again for a few days while he taught a leadership class at the Institute 8 hours south in Lautaro.  We got to share a few meals together on his weekends on either end of the trip.  It is always great to see him!

Coen was dedicated at church.  We were honored to have our neighbors join us at church for the first time to see Coen dedicated, and to our surprise have John be a part of the presentation and prayer for him.  It was, as he said, "a little touch of home" that we needed and appreciated having for that special event.

We're revamping good ol' Sunday School.  We're at the edge of a new beginning and I'm both excited and nervous.  The long term goal is restructuring how we teach and connect to not only the students, but their families and the communities in which we live.  We've got some big audacious goals. Tears, frustation and confusion will happen, but I've always seen those as necessary elements for any sort of true growth.  A few weeks ago we did our first ever financial simulation with the kids; which was a hit.  We're hoping to make this an annual event along with others that bring reality ans application to our faith.

House of Hope has almost 20 kids!  We finally got to catch up with Tia Susi over bread and tea one evening.  She got to meet Coen, and we got to hear everything that's been going on at HOH these last 2 months.  Seems like things are going well and hopefully we'll be able to visit them and meet the new kiddos soon.

I'm not pregnant.  I wrote the first part of Coen's birth story (I am going to finish it someday...) and due to an ironic play on words on my part, a lot of people thought I was pregnant again.  I found this to be hilarious, as well as not true.  

We have our tickets to go the States!  It is real, people.  We will be visiting our families between 3 states from July 11th - August 10th.  We have been more homesick for them than ever before, so this is excellent timing.

We're moving.  Our landlord kicked us out so we will be moving out a week before leaving for the States in July.  What was an initially super stressful situation, as it's not quite as "adventurous" to think about being nomads with 2 large dogs and a newborn, could end up being a great change for us.  We will be renting a friend's house for 2 years while he and his wife complete a master's in Mississippi.  The timing is perfect, and we're so thankful to not only have somewhere to go, but a place in our price range that we won't have to fix up before we move in.  They are also letting us store our stuff (aka entire house) there for the few weeks we'll be in the States before they leave.

And to conclude, because we couldn't resist, here are the latest developments from Lil' Man's end.  No wonder this kid sleeps most of the day as he has been quite busy learning how to smile, stick out his tongue, grow and raise his eyebrows, and communicate to us with coos.      

First shampoo

Everyone loves the Boppy

Just like dad with his too-short-for-his-long-arms sleeves

Ready for winter

June Prayer Requests

1.  For Christine's health to clear up completely

2. For patience, wisdom, and effective communication with the changes being made in Sunday School

3. For solid preparation and clear communication for the presentations we'll make for goEnglish this month.

I can’t seem to shake it...

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...and honestly I feel as if I’ve taken two steps into the shallow end of the pool of problemas mundial. 

I’m exhausted.  We’ve had a very long day and it’s only the first day of an adventure that seems quite infinite.  I hear a longer, more mature rhythmic sound of air passing from the environment, through the nose, filling lungs and back out into the environment mixed with a quite similar rhythm although it’s much more quickly occurring.  It’s pristine.  The tiny nose and lungs easily fill and empty that same air.  My back aches and I wish this sterilized room had a more Lazy-boy like recliner, but who can complain with sounds like that taking priority.  Perspective man, perspective. 

Amazingly kind, energetic economist – “So how does it feel?”

English teacher – “It’s beyond what I can explain, it’s just so good.  Me falta harto sleep, but it’s beyond worth it.”

Amazingly kind, energetic economist – “I know!  Isn’t it amazing.  The mere idea of new life is beautiful.”

English teacher – “And you, how many kids would you like to have”

Amazingly kind, energetic economist – “Remember, English Teacher, I had cancer when I was 19 and they had to take out everything.”

English teacher – “Lo siento.  I’m so sorry, I know, I remember you telling me that, I just didn’t realize, that.

Amazingly kind, energetic economist – “But I want to adopt so badly.  Think about how many little guaguitas are born everyday without someone who desires them, holds them and gives them cariño.”

English teacher – “That’s awesome.  Really that’s incredible.  Me and my wife hope to adopt some day as well”

Amazingly kind energetic economist – “I know, I can’t wait.”

English teacher – [Internally] “Perspectiva”

There’s a weight on his chest that is more valuable than gold as he turns westward onto Calle Hugo Bravo.  He’s proud, he’s chocho. 

“Hey, you’ve got a guagua in there don’t you?” 

“Yep, the kangaroo pouch is awesome.  He passes out the moment he slides in.” 

“How many semanas does he have?” 

“He’s 2 weeks old.” 

“Wow, can I see him…awwww.  He’s so cute.  You must be so chocho, so proud.” 

“It’s amazing to be a dad.  ¿Do you have any kids?”

“No, my wife never could get pregnant although we tried.  We really love the relationship    we’ve got with our nephews.  By the way, you’re not from around here are you?” 

“Nope, we’re gringos, we live up that away.” 

“Oh well it’s nice to meet you and welcome to our country.”

The little guy’s asleep and I feel that soft non-mature rhythm on my neck again.  He’s comfortable.  He’s warm.  His long frame has shrunken into that “before the non-mature rhythm making even started” stage.  He’s in his milk coma and I’m mildly relieved to know that there will be a few hours of tranquilidad.  When I take a glance to make sure those brown eyes aren’t still fighting back the heavy lids, it hits me.  The Sr. of the Jr. from which he got his second name (since none of his teacher’s will be able to pronounce it until second semester) never had his counterpart to pat Sr.’s back until the chanchitos were all out and could rest in his arms.  Why did the weight of little guy increase fifteen-fold and I feel as if my eyes were drowned in salty wetness?

I feel as if I could continue this list not only with this branch of thought, but in numerous others.

Life is beautiful and yet gut wrenching.  We must celebrate and yet we must mourn.

I’ve learned to resist the classic pregunta, “Where is God in all of this?” and start to question, “Where am I in this?”  Not an essay worthy nor complete and comprehensive answer, but it’s where I’m at, it’s how I deal with the anger and the joy.

If I’m purely intoxicated with my own state of being; my happy, my sad, my down, my satisfied, my thrilled or my gray, what good am I truly but to myself?  It’s this blessing and curse of community that leaves me a bit more balanced and hopeful.  Most importantly, it’s a necesidad, it’s what calls my attention when I so easily fall into the focus of my world, my situation, my status.

But like I said, this isn’t compete or comprehensive.  It’s a working paper.  

Having Babies in a Foreign Land: A Birth Story

Part 1

Of course you can’t predict or plan how exactly your labor and delivery experience will be.  Well, I take that back.  You can plan all you want, but you can’t expect those plans to work out.  In our case with Lil’ Man Coen, our birth story was everything we didn’t plan for and a whole lot more :)  

Chile has one of the highest C-section rates in the world.  I was thankful to find a doctor that was “pro-parto” (all for natural deliveries) and respected my strong desire to avoid a caesarean at all costs, unless medically necessary of course (duh).  The conversation we failed to have before my 40^th week of pregnancy, however, was the time frame that was acceptable for waiting.  Apparently in Chile, delivery is expected between 38-40 weeks.  But for this Gringa, (and a lot of other people and countries outside of Chile) I didn’t want to take any actions before Lil’ Man did until 42 weeks.  Whiiiiich can lead to some cultural tension, for SURE.

So we went in for a check-up at 40 weeks, 3 days.  No signs of labor any time soon.  Lil’ Man was quite comfortable it seemed, as we were with waiting.  But my doctor was concerned with the risks that come with waiting too long (loss of amniotic fluid, decrease in quality of the placenta, etc.) and wanted to try an induction. 

We should have stopped there, but we didn’t.

We decided to try it, and if it didn’t motivate Lil’ Man to start moving on down, we would stop and wait some more on our own.  We asked the doctor and midwife (and even the hospital admission lady who checked us in) various times to make sure that was ok, that we could stop the induction at any point.  They all said, of course.  

So Wednesday morning, at 40 weeks, 5 days, we get to the hospital to try the induction.  I thought it would be more like a doctor’s office visit, and was convinced it would most likely end with us going back home to wait and walk some more.  But when we got there, we checked in like we were staying for a few days.  They took all our information, took us to our room, explained visiting hours and how to work the TV.  I changed into my hospital paperish gown that was clearly not made for tall Gringas.  We waited in our room until a man with a wheelchair came to escort us down to the “’pre-delivery room.”  We took Lil’ Man’s first change of clothes in a little bag, even though I knew deep down we wouldn’t be meeting him that day.

We went down to the pre-delivery room.  It’s basically a large room with about 10 beds separated by curtains.  This is where you go from the time you’re admitted into the hospital in active labor until you are ready to deliver, when they take you to a separate room.  Then after delivery you go to your room, a typical hospital room, where you stay for the few days after.  It’s definitely not the nice private room with pretty wallpaper where you get to stay throughout you’re entire labor process and after, but you gotta work with what you got I guess.

Our midwife met us there and as she was hooking me up to the fetal monitor explained that we would try the induction for 2-3 hours and then do a C-section if my labor wasn’t progressing.  Again, should have gone with my gut feeling that day and stopped right there.  2-3 hours?  That seemed a little crazy.  And a C-section at 40weeks and 4days?  I don’t think so.

So as she’s literally telling me that I have no other options, and I’m trying to (nicely) explain that yes, there is another option called waiting longer, we both realize there has been a lack of communication somewhere.  And not even with the Spanish – When we asked about stopping the induction, we meant to go home and wait longer.  They meant to stop and just do a C-section.  I told her I needed to talk to Tracey “al tiro” - right now.  (For some odd reason they kept asking Tracey to leave…)  When she said “let me just start the IV with pitocin and then I’ll get Tracey to come in,” I used my best crazy-hormonal-pregnant-lady mean face to tell her that I didn’t know if we’d be staying and I needed to talk to him before we did anything at all. 

So as Tracey and I sat there in our not-so-private curtained bed area, we honestly had no idea what to do.  They told us if we left the hospital that day that we’d have to find a new doctor and a new hospital.  We knew what we wanted (not to rush into a C-section) but when you have multiple doctors telling you it’s a risk to wait any longer, you start to doubt yourself.  Not to mention the fact that I didn’t know how or if we could find a doctor in this scalpal-happy country willing to wait another week with us.

Somehow we were able to make the right decision in the midst of so much chaos, confusion, and pressure.  After another doctor came and explained the risks to us (again), we signed papers releasing the hospital from any liability, got wheeled back up to our room, packed our bags, and retraced our steps from that morning.

Still pregnant.        

House of Hope Video

Here is the new House of Hope video I was talking about in the last update!  Enjoy :)



House of Hope - Santiago, Chile from Christine Keitt on Vimeo.