My favorite Hametz

Last week, my Matilda Gael* turned one. She was born, April 17, 2008 in Netanya, Israel. Due to travelling, and an unsuccessful attempt to get a hold of pictures, this post is very overdue...

For those of you who have not had the pleasure, let me share with you the experience of giving birth in a small religious hospital on the Northern coast of Israel- on the eve of Passover...(disclaimer: my experience is not exactly typical; many opt to go to newer, more secular hospitals but in so doing they relinquish their choice of doctors and subsequent control over the entire birthing process. As well, it should be noted that few staff and doctors speak English.) Since I wanted a natural birth, I felt it incredibly important to have someone I could trust at the receiving end, so to speak...so I put my pregnant life in the hands of a shepherd-turned-obstetrician and braced myself for the endless requirements put upon women in the name of modesty - all the while promising myself not to morph into the ever-so-popular stereotype of the pampered American.

So there we were at the entrance of a small hospital a stone's throw from the beach, in the middle of an ultra-orthodox neighborhood, as everyone feverishly prepared for Passover. As is to be expected upon entering any building in Israel, our bags were searched. However, this inspection was more a search for hametz - anything leavened or unkosher- than bombs or other weapons . We were a little surprised when all of my candy was confiscated, but even more so to discover upon entering the hospital that the very same candy was available for purchase in the vending machines - seems a little bit of capitalism had crept into their passover purge. Not one to complain, uh-um, I soldiered on toward the maternity ward, where I was given three gowns. Three gowns!?! I politely told the nurse that she mistakenly gave me two extra gowns. Ah, but it was I who was mistaken, you see, the first two gowns were to overlap, to ensure modesty, and the third, well, I believe that was a form of insurance. Did I mention that Van was not allowed anywhere near me - again for reasons of modesty. Nevertheless, there I wait , alone, a little peeved that my contractions aren't speeding up enough to move to the natural birthing center. Oh, I should mention that due to the enormous size of my first two babies, I was only allowed entrance to their natural birthing center after my doctor performed an extra scan to reassure them that the baby was of a more normal size and that if anything went awry, my doctor accepted full liability. Lucky- or not- for me the scan was way off and Matilda ended up weighing in at over 9 1/2 lbs. I suppose the 40lbs weight gain should have tipped us off... Anyway it is at this point that my dr. breezes in, huddles over me, and says in a very hushed tone, "here, take this, QUICK, quick, before someones notices!" So like a teenager trying to make good with the cool kids, I do it. You learn real quick here that you NEVER argue with a doctor, particularly on their turf. and this was her turf. It felt as though my doctor slipped me a mickey...turns out it was a sort of homeopathic pill, meant to naturally help the contractions along, but since the birthing center restricted ANY unauthorized interventions my dr. felt compelled to go the subversive route. Which, I have to say, bonded us like giggly teenage girls.

Once into the birthing center, my doctor plopped herself on the bed, and told me to go take a walk down on the beach. hmmm???? Yes, it was an amazingly beautiful day. Yes, I hate being stuck in a room waiting for anything. And yes, the back and forth of the ocean waves hypnotically called to me "come and I will take your mind away from it all." But, um, is this really safe, I mean there's a cliff, and lots of rocks, and its a little far from the hospital when you really think about it?!? (I still suspect she just wanted to take a nap) But, Okay, so Van and I, and all three of my now very cumbersome gowns walked, and periodically stopped for shear pain, and walked some more until we were standing on a beautiful cliff overlooking the sea. It was actually one of those lost in time moments, that despite the growing pain, I will forever feel indebted to. And in keeping with the magic, my doctor appeared the instance my fears began to reemerge. So we walked, silently, peacefully, back to the hospital. And it was all down hill from there.....actually, it was the best birthing experience yet, but it was unmedicated, we were trying to avoid an episiotomy, and well, Matilda was HUGE, so the pain was intense. I only stayed in the hospital overnight, 12 hours, and believe me after the third cockroach and a careful removal of a dirty bandage - not mine- from my pillow, I was counting the minutes! So I sat upright, clutching Matilda for the entire night, moving only for the hourly hametz inspection by the police, I mean nurses...I'm not sure how they thought I might manage to smuggle contraband in the middle of the night...Everyone else managed to sleep through it all, because, of course, they had enough sense not to room-in. But I was a novice compared to my floormates, popping out only my third - they were all on #5 and #8, so sympathy was nowhere to be found. In fact, I was expected to change my own bedding and walk to the cafeteria for food and drinks. Oh, and after what is the most intense physical labor/pain of my life, I was offered a matza cracker, cucumbers, a pat of white cheese spread and water - nothing else. So Van got a hysterical call the next morning, and despite not understanding more than two words due to the screeching, came to rescue me. And now we have this AMAZING little baby who was never actually that little and I cannot believe that we thought we were done - clearly our family - and the world , for that matter - would have been deprived!!!!! She has been the most difficult of our babies, its been a tricky transition for her sisters, and three has proven itself to be MUCH more challenging than two, BUT, she has filled our lives in ways we never imagined and we, now, finally, feel complete. WE LOVE OUR MATILDA!

*Matilda's middle name was originally Yael partly in honor of my OB, but I came to my senses, realizing how one might at some point charge me with some form of child abuse....I mean Matilda Campbell-Reidhead is torture enough...