What? I might have the baby today??

My routine prental office visit yesterday during which I was just to have an ultrasound to determine the EFW (or Estimated Fetal Weight) turned out to be not so routine. Both my parents came along hoping to get some good viewings of the baby on the ultrasound.






After trying to decipher some blurry black and white images of the baby and sort of making out the head and a leg, the doctor said she needed to talk to us a bit. That immediately made me nervous and as it turns out rightly so. She explained that the amniotic fluid around the baby looked quite low and that the placenta was showing some calcium deposits. Both of these things can be indicators that the baby is done and ready to come out and that perhaps he might not continue to thrive as well in the womb. However, she reassured us that his movements were good, his weight (6 1/2 lbs) was good, and his heart rate was good. So she sent us to a specialist in fetal medicine right away who has more high tech equipment. She said that this doctor will either send me home and tell me not to worry or may tell me that baby boy has to come out today. I wasn't really prepared for that possibility but realized that it doesn't take long to get mentally ready for that. After all, the number one priority is to have a healthy baby so regardless if all else is in place, I was ready to do whatever needed to happen to make sure baby is healthy. Of course all of our nerves were rattled a bit upon hearing the doctor's concerns. I also started to have visions of having to be induced or worse yet, having a c-section and foreseeing all my preparations and wishes for having a natural delivery go down the drain. But, all of our fears were soon erased when the fetal medicine doctor told us that he felt the amniotic fluid levels and placenta looked perfectly fine and normal. With very scientific equipment they can even show the blood flow through the umbilical cord to the baby (it sort of looked like doppler radar that shows weather patterns). And as a bonus we were told that the baby is definitely a boy (so no surprises at delivery) and the baby is head down...way down!

This whole experience made me think of two things. First, I realized that I have very little control over how and when this baby decides to come and how he decides to make his entrance into the world. Of course, on some level I have control of how I want to labor and things I chose to do or not do, but all of that can be irrelevant depending on what's in the baby's best interest. And the other thing that it made me think about is what happened before all this technology entered the world of prenatal care? There is no doubt that sometimes this high tech equipment can result in saved lives of babies and mothers but I bet more often than not, they cause unnecessary worry and concern. After all, moms have been having babies for a very long time without doppler radar ultrasounds!

We never did get any good images of the baby though which apparently get harder to see this late into pregnancy but my mom still asked for a print out of an image to take home like a souvenir. The doctor looked at her like she was nuts given the images looked like a whole bunch of nothing to the untrained eye but he printed her out a picture of the baby's heart and knowing my mom, she'll treasure that until the baby makes his grand entrance.

Tic Toc Tic Toc

Now that impatience and the feeling of waiting have fully set in, I figured I should kill some of this time by writing another blog post. I've got 4 weeks from today until my due date and although there really isn't much new to report on, I have certainly gotten further with my baby preparation and with growing this big boy in my belly. What used to feel like ripples in my stomach now feel like an assault on my organs. I can make out body parts now or at least areas of the body. My doctor tells me the baby is head down and he's been this way for some time because his head pushes on my bladder most of the time and his little legs or feet push out on my right upper side on a regular basis. It truly does feel like my body has been invaded by an alien except it's not an alien but our son - still a concept I'm not quite used to yet. And although I really haven't had much to complain about as far as aches and pains during the pregnancy, the last few weeks have definitely gotten to be more uncomfortable than the first 8 months. Probably the most noticeable body changes occur when I'm just walking (which I've been trying to do a lot of lately). I do have a bit of a waddle (well maybe more than a bit but I prefer to think it's just a bit) and my hips just randomly collapse on me as if they won't be able to support my weight. Putting on socks and shoes poses a real challenge so sandals have become my best friend. It's odd to feel so slow as I am generally a speed walker no matter where I'm going. And my bathroom trips have definitely increased to 2-3 times a night. And speaking of the night, forget about getting a good night sleep. I generally have 5 or so pillows propped up against me to sort of support and hold me in position but generally I am tossing and turning in between bathroom breaks which means a readjustment of those 5 or so pillows. And then there are the 3am feedings that I seem to be on. I wake up ravenously hungry and cannot possibly think about sleeping until I've eaten. I am beginning to understand what insomnia is and really would prefer to do without it. But, I suppose all of this has a purpose and I prefer to look at it like it is preparing me for what's ahead - sleepless nights, middle of the night feedings, and possibly some discomfort during that thing they call labor.

As far as preparations go, I've got most of the baby paraphenalia that one should have to start with which feels like a ridiculous amount of stuff. My parents have been kind enough to let me, Alan (when he arrives - which is another story), and baby move into their room since it is bigger than the guest room, but rather than overtake it prematurely with baby "stuff," we've collected all of it in my old bedroom which it's pretty much outgrown now. As you can see there is little space left for walking amongst the toys, cloths, bassinet, etc.



I washed loads and loads of baby clothes, towels, blankets, etc. and have them all neatly folded just waiting to be put in drawers. And the toys and stuffed animals are all waiting to get the little baby's hands on them.




We've got the carseat installed, I've done some reading up on how to care for a newborn baby (because certainly it doesn't hurt), and my mom and are preparing for labor by taking a weekly class. I definitely want to be prepared for labor (going to give natural labor a try I think) and my mom may be a fill in assistant if the baby decides to come before Alan gets here. We've got a wonderful doula picked out who will be a primary labor assistant and she's just a phone call away. So really there isn't much left to do except to have a baby and pray that he doesn't make an earlier than scheduled appearance before his papa can get here from Ghana. So to kill time I am determined to finish the baby quilt I'm making (my first attempt but I'm pretty proud!) which hopefully can be accomplished in 4 weeks.

On the Road to Kumasi by Alan

Kumasi is the second biggest city in Ghana and where the Ashanti king sits. It wouldn’t be so important to know where the king sits if he didn’t sit in a solid gold stool, but he does, and it is in Kumasi.
Here is a picture of a gigantic building in the shape of the Ashanti stool (a very prominent shape used all over Ghana) which was built to house the presidential and government offices in Accra. However, the current government is from a different party today and can't approve of this structure built by a past government, so now the building sits empty. Great way of spending tax payers money.


Kumasi is calmer, more easy going, and more lush than Accra. On the flip side, it generally has less restaurants (although Moti Mahal, the best Indian restaurant in Ghana, is in Kumasi), less shops, and more malaria – nevertheless some locals like it more than Accra.

I’ve been told Mr. Opuni, who reports to me, is second in line to become king one day; it’s interesting to know that royalty is your direct report – however it does feel uncomfortable at times. We’ve talked about it, and he is a chief or close to be chief of his tribe which makes part of the bigger Ashanti people and yes he would be second in line, but this title is shared with all the others seconds in line from all the other tribes that make up the Ashanti kingdom – I doubt I will see him crowned king – but if he ever is, I better become an honorary Ashanti citizen. I believe we have a mix of a cordial-good relationship and we make an effective team: After shouting and screaming to get things done and not happening, I turn to my royal friend for support. He murmurs words in Tui (Ashanti language) and things get finished faster than a speeding bullet (which wouldn’t be so fast in Ghana, but still a bullet).

Getting back on the road, the distance between Accra and Kumasi is about 117km or about 70 miles, and in normal conditions one would expect to make the trip in no more than 1.5 hours – this would help economic development and make life easier in this difficult country. However, as expected, this is not the case. I usually go to Kumasi by plane and getting there is like playing Russian roulette; 10% of the time there will be something wrong with the plane so the flight will be canceled – not very comforting knowing that there are only two planes covering this route and they are always the same ones that break down. Anyways, on one occasion it was an emergency that I get to Kumasi, the flight was canceled, so I had to hit the road. We left Accra at 6am and arrived to Kumasi by 2pm – what is supposed to be a 1.5 hour journey took us 8 hours simply because the road is divided into 2/3 road and 1/3 is something I would not have a name for in English. It is easily the worst road I have ever been on and it’s not even in the mountains, just plains!

In the middle of the journey, there is however, a resting stop with some descent local food joints, cafeteria, and restrooms. I wanted to have a Malta Guinness (non-alcoholic brewed beverage) to go for the road and ventured into the difficult task of asking for anything in Ghana. The conversation went like this:

Alan – Could you please give me a malta?
Bartender – For here or to go?
Alan – To go
Bartender – No you can’t have it as you have to return the bottle (in Ghana everything is still bottled in glass, consumers return the glass for it to be reused and get a refund from the companies that make them).
Alan – No problem I’ll pay for the bottle. Normally you sell it for $1.5, I’ll pay you $2 and keep the bottle.
Bartender – No, I’m not sure how much the bottle costs
Alan – I really want to have a Malta Guinness, I’ll give you 3! (I’m starting to get agitated – I work for the company who produces Malta Guinness, the bottle cost is no more than 0.2)
Bartender – No, I can’t.
Alan – How about pouring the malta into one of those plastic cups next to the smoothie machine? Will you sell it to me then?
Bartender – No unless you also buy the smoothie.
Alan – Are you shitting me?!?!, what the @#$%& place is this! Why don’t you want to sell! Why don’t you want to make money! Why do you want to stay poor forever! Why don’t you use your brain!

At this point, I signaled the others that were with me in the car that we were leaving immediately – I completely lost it… on the road to Kumasi.

God Inc. by Alan

Relatively speaking, Ghana has a very low alcohol consumption rate per capita vs. other African nations. At first I didn’t understand why, now I do. It’s God Inc. Yes, although Ghana’s economy is driven by cocoa, gold, and oil, it is church business that drives society. Even businesses, well except the alcohol industry, use God to sell!






In the developed world, churches, synagogues, mosques, and temples are places for worshipping. In Ghana, the church is the center of society. You go to church to meet your friends, to meet your spouse, to spend the weekend, to do charity work with others, to occasionally pray for a better future, and most importantly, to give a significant amount of your salary to the all mighty messenger of god - the humble pastor. The humble pastor drives a BMW and lives in upper class neighborhoods while his church members can barely make it to the next paycheck. Following God’s will does pay!

How can a humble pastor from a small parish reach such levels of wealth? Ghanaian churches (which can be of any religious denomination – all that matters is that God has personally spoken to you for you to spread his wisdom) have copied the retail banking business model fueled by ridiculous ignorance. Like a bank, a church opens an “office” and slowly starts enticing customers to deposit money in its accounts – the only difference is that the money does earns blessings, not interest and the capital is used to help others (including the humble pastor) but not you. The bigger and better sounding the blessings, the bigger deposits the “office” gets. Once a church is established with enough capital (supporters) it can expand and open other branches in other communities throughout the country. Just like a business invests money to build a new plant to produce more to make more money, churches normally “invest” some of their proceeds (donations) in building infrastructure (maybe) or gifting frivolous items to those less fortunate. Along the way a community church is also built (of course) to make it easier for these poor people to be closer to God. In the long run, the church benefits from luring more members into its base with every “branch” it opens. Each new member will, at some point, give appropriately in order to be accepted in God’s kingdom by the humble pastor.

Similar to a bank, the church continues to grow and seek more revenue streams. The church not only gets deposits from Sundays but also Wednesdays and Thursdays. The more you hear the word of God and the more blessings you pay for, the better you will do in life. This last month I saw the church innovate in unchartered territories. The Pentecostal House of the Fallen Nana Owusu Acheampong was giving a mass at a reduced price on Valentine’s Day for new couples. Now that’s called marketing – a non-religious event becoming part of the doors to heaven.

I have searched for the answer as to why the poor people of Ghana follow this ritual that’s hindering people’s ability to save and get out of being poor. Why, if I earn $100 a month, would I give $20 to the church while my kid does not have money to buy books to go to school? A friend of our driver once told me he pays the church and thus he gets much more in return - he gets a blessing from the humble pastor. I asked him to give me $10 and in return I would give him a Jewish blessing – and look at me, I’m an expat and doing very well, I must know what I’m talking about - to which he laughed. I told him then he should ask the pastor for $20 and he should give the pastor a blessing – he paused for a minute and walked away. I think I planted a seed in his brain. However the seed most probably did not grow, as when next Sunday came, my driver’s friend was again church brainwashed.

A possible answer to this church nonsense is that the church is not a place for worship but a social club. There are very few official social clubs in the country; there is one mall, one movie theatre, zero parks, and no walking areas. The only place, apart from work, where you can meet and talk to people is either in the street selling boxes that fell from the back of the truck or at church. Church is the great socializer – and people, perhaps, gladly pay for it; church is the ultimate matchmaker, 100% of all the Ghanaians I’ve known so far have met their spouses at church – which brings me back to my original statistic. The church is a social club and people pay for membership. Who gives a hoot about religion! if it is not about religion though (to be discussed in another blog), why does the humble pastor preach a zero alcohol lifestyle making Ghana one of the lowest alcohol consumers per capita in Africa affecting my bonus possibilities??!!

P.S.: The Pentecostal House of the Fallen Nana Owusu Acheampong is a made up name. If I were to write down the real names of churches you would think I am joking.

Alan the Blogger - "Eating Out"

Since I am not in Ghana now to share our adventures and report on what life is like in Ghana, Alan has decided to take on a bit of this responsibility until I get back there and has written his first blog! So here it is...enjoy!


The few visitors that come to Ghana always want to eat something “African”. I ask them if they know what they’re talking about and the just stare at me perplexed – they want the African experience, they are in Ghana, what else is there to ask? I’m not an expert in African food in general, but I do know a thing or two about Ghanaian food; and yes, it is an experience to eat out in Accra… but not because of the food!

Ghanaian food is very similar to the food you eat in Colombia (both countries are located at the equator and have similar vegetation). The diet is heavily loaded with starches to be able to sustain a hard day’s work. I call it the poor man’s cuisine. Consisting of various ways of cooking, boiling, mixing, frying, or heating up cassava, plantains, beans, rice, and some kind of meat (goat, chicken, or fish) it’s nothing to rave about. It is the same food day in and day out. For the last 365 days I have eaten in the brewery’s canteen every single day - fried chicken with rice (which varies in color depending on what type of coloring the chef has that week). I can’t stand it anymore but it’s free and I have gotten really sick only twice, so that makes a very acceptable average, once every six months in the clinic, not worth fighting for a change – details to be explained in another post. Ghanaians would prefer to be jobless and eat fufu, banku, and redred (traditional names for simple dishes) than to have a job where the canteen serves pasta, pizza, Chinese, or any other non spicy flavor. So eating food in Ghana is not so much about what you eat but where and how you eat it.
Here is an example of a traditional Ghanaian dish - fufu and some sort of red stew always eaten with the hands.


Interestingly enough, there are various restaurants with different world cuisines. From the top of my head I know about 3 sushi, 2 french, 2 tai, 2 pizzerias, 2 italians, 4 chinese, 1 lebanese, 2 african, 1 mexican, 1 korean, 1 irish, and 3 indian places. All of them with pretty good quality food, not New York or London, but pretty good for a place where locals don’t know what chocolate is (although they are the largest exporters of cocoa in the world – go figure).

Notice the elegant decor in some of these places!
Indian...

Italian...

Chinese...

Thai...


A typical evening at any of the above starts at home deciding how many people will be seated at the table. Empirical studies based on our experiences suggest that any party larger than 6 runs a very high risk of getting at least one person’s meal wrong, mixed up, or simply deleted. After arriving at the restaurant you will be greeted by a person who says he is your waiter but who you will rarely see again, as he/she will not want to be the bearer of bad news such as the dish “slipped” the chef's mind (as explained above) or that you will need to leave your engagement ring in lieu of payment as the credit card machine is inexplicably not working today (or any other day for that matter).

Once seated you will be given the wine list. It normally contains great wines from all over the world – especially South Africa – of which you will choose one and 20 minutes later the waiter will confirm he doesn’t have it. You will choose another one and immediately, instead of making you wait this time, he will tell you he doesn’t have it either. You will ask,” What do you have?” to which the waiter will give you a list of wines not in the wine list. This brings us to the next lesson - never choose a wine from the wine menu. The menu was created many years ago when the restaurant opened and those wines have since been consumed. New containers full of wines have come since – none of which are known by the restaurant nor their quality ascertained until they arrive at the restaurant door. Choose wine by the grape – just ask for a Chardonnay, or Pinotage, or Cabernet, sit back, and enjoy whatever the restaurant has. It’s easier when you don’t have a choice!

After choosing your wine you will choose your main course and if you are one of the lucky 5 out of 6, you will very much enjoy your meal. You will look back at everything that has happened in the last hour or so and just smile and say Akwabaa (welcome in Twi - one of the local languages). The restaurant will not rush you out and you will enjoy complaining about everything that has happened that week with friends. By the end of the meal you will be in a good mood again, or maybe I should say you better be in a good mood because you will still need to pass the last ordeal – getting the check can be as traumatic as ordering your food.

I won’t go into details, but let’s just say that if you get the check with no errors and get home by 10pm you have made it successfully through the night.

Try repeating this approximately 3 nights a week! Akwaaba… Welcome to Ghana.

The Love of Family and Friends

I feel incredibly fortunate to be surrounded by such amazing friends and family during these last few weeks (6 to go!) of my pregnancy. Of course my amazing parents have been taking great care of me since I came home...virtually not letting me lift a finger, cooking amazing meals, making me comfortable in every way, and just being the loving kind parents they are. But this weekend, I was joined by my aunt and uncle who are making their way back from Florida to Toronto and made a special stop along the way to take part in baby shower festivities with me. I feel so lucky to have had this time with them because not only do we rarely get to see each other, but I know when this baby joins us and we get back to Ghana, it may be a while before we get to all be together again. They have shared their excitement with me over our baby coming into the world soon and we've gotten to catch up and just spend time together.

My beautiful Auntie Dale...


And then there was the amazing baby shower that my mother and my very special friend Delene threw me yesterday. Love and attention was truly showered upon me and we had an amazing time. About 23 women (along with my dad and uncle!) joined us in our house for an afternoon of food, arts and crafts, poetry, and even singing!

Homemade bagels with lox and cream cheese...





These women ranged from people who have watched me grow up from when I was a baby, to people who cared for me as a baby, to girlfriends from grade school, to friends from my adult life and everyone in between.





My baby shower planner-extroidinaire, Delene, decided to forego any baby shower games like smelling diapers stuffed with random gross foods, measuring the mama's belly, and guessing baby food flavors and instead opted for an arts and crafts activity which was much more appropriate for me - given my crafty inclinations these days.


All the women worked together to create a mobile which hangs with moons, stars, globes, and colorful ribbons all adorned with loving messages to hang in the baby's room back in Ghana. They also wrote messages of wisdom, advice and encouragement in a booklet that I can keep and read when I need a little hometown comfort.






And opening presents brought tears and beautiful poetry read by our friend Susan.



My Aunt crocheted a beautiful baby outfit that is so special...





And lots of other adorable outfits and toys came our way which I am so grateful for!



And maybe the most creative touch to the shower that my friend Delene planned was to create a phone tree so that all my friends and family can be contacted one by one when I go into labor and they were each given a candle to light to send good vibes and thoughts my way. I joked that the candle had a 3-hour burn time in the hopes that that would be the length of my labor! I'm afraid I won't be so lucky, but it will be so nice to know all these wonderful friends and loved ones are thinking of me.