Baby in Belgium

Thanks to our planning and part thanks to destiny, the joy of seeing the two pink lines was followed by the news of my husband's leaving for Belgium. He suggested I follow him too. He did not want to miss out on any of the action.

We had no idea that having a baby was such a life-altering decision. Did all the paperwork diligently, and followed my husband to Belgium, I was 7 months pregnant then. In fact, getting my id card from the commune, registering at a Mutuelle, and the hospital was somewhat a stressful phase - one where I contemplated going back many times. Finally, we had to barge our way into the hospital and literally hijack a gynaecologist for me - which thanks to the helpful administration at the hospital, we managed!

I was in very good hands from thereon. Days passed by in a flurry with getting acquainted to life in Belgium. Consumerism for baby products hit me and my lists were long drawn - crib, changing mat, pram, maxi-cosi, relaxo baby chair, clothes, toys. In India, of course, often less is more for a baby. But here, I went crazy with the Premamans and Baby 2000s and Petit Batous and all they had to offer. Needless to say, my baby's crib is used as a dumpster now, as she sleeps with us.

I had a long list of stuff for my mother to carry, she was willing to come and help us out at the most crucial time. My mother-in-law pleaded for later, she was organising an event back home, but was willing to come down a bit later for some sight-seeing, and oh!! of course the baby.

Baby came and our lives and schedules were thrown completely out of gear. As my friend says, it takes a village to bring up a baby, and I acutely felt the lack of a support group here. Add to it, the depressing winter of Belgium, all tasks seemed rather unsurmountable. The 6 days I spent in the hospital were the most miserable days of my life (looking back, a classic case of post-partum depression).

In fact, I did have quite a few visitors from the friends we had made. They brought some warmth and cheer. I missed handing out sweets to them, as we would have done back home, or the familiar faces of relatives and friends. But I am grateful for the consideration and warmth shown by our friends here. At the hospital, I learnt how to hold her without feeling afraid of breaking her, giving her a bath, but am surprised they did not tell me about burping the baby. Lost in translation, I think. Food at the hospital was horrible, but am sure they did not know just what to give to a vegetarian who does not eat fish!!

I was happy to wish audieu to the hospital on day 6, and rather like a baby, just wanted to come back to my mama at home. Talk about role reversals here!

That said, there are amazing facilities like Kind en Gezin, and their staff, who in their own way have been great support to us. My mother used to make me raab and katlu which is given to new mothers. Logistics of how to give a bath to baby hassled our Indian habits, as there are no wet bathrooms here. Things are done quite differently here. Pacifiers were so mystifying to me. My baby used to spit them out, never managed to get her to take those.

My mother stayed with us for 3 months, after which my mother-in-law spent 2 months with us. Time flew by, we managed to show my mil Paris and a few places in Belgium. Am sorry we could not do some more, but with a small baby and the lovely weather here, we were a bit constrained. Finally, in May, after she left for India, we went on to become a family of our own. She is 10 months old now - adorable and mischevious. Her nana and mutt-ajji (my husband's grandmom) have not seen her yet. But, only 2 more months to go for happy reunions..................