What with Kate and Keira sporting baby bumps, 2015 seems to be the year to have a little one. But what about being pregnant on foreign shores? Travel writer, kodomo.com contributor, and ex-pat Gabriel O’Rorke discovers what it’s like having a baby aboard abroad…
Ever heard of a baby souvenir? You know, a personalized bottle of fizz, a little placard tied with a bow or a something sweet to munch on – all with your baby’s name on it, of course.
No, I had no idea either.
Pregnancy has been filled with the unknown for me, from technical terms and now to a whole minefield of prenatal etiquette that is apparently known by all Latinos. So, in Chile this is how it goes. When your baby is born your husband sends a note to the office delivering the good news. So far so good; all familiar enough. But, rather than just saying ‘It’s a boy! Both mum and baby doing well,’ the Chilean norm is to share the hospital room number so that the entirety of your office can come along to congratulate and meet the new little one.
As if the thought of having a herd of colleagues arrive before you’ve even had a shower wasn’t enough (it might almost be okay if we could all do a Kate Middleton and have our hairdresser turn up for a quick blowdry), you’re expected to present said intruders with a souvenir.
“A friend of mine went into labour two weeks early,” a Paraguayan friend told me the other day, “and she was beside herself because she hadn’t had time to sort out the souvenirs. Her husband ended up spending the day on the hunt for souvenirs when she headed to the hospital!”
My husband’s expression when I told him this confirmed my suspicions that we won’t be doing souvenirs. “Let’s just pretend we don’t know,” he suggested. “I wouldn’t even be comfortable visiting my sister-in-law in the hospital!” There are times – we hope anyway – when the foreigner card delivers a free round.
And this brings me to baby’s name. I’m now used to people holding their hand on my stomach as we talk – I no longer hold my breath and smile awkwardly – but we still stumble on the second of two questions all Chileans ask a pregnant woman.
1: Is it a boy or girl?
2: What’s his / her name?
Luckily we both wanted to find out; I’m not known for my patience and having to wait 9 months to find out whether this little passenger was a girl or boy was out of the question. What is more, finding out was wonderful; it made the whole thing feel much more real and exciting. Call me a simpleton, but for me not knowing made it feel more like an alien was inside me, rather than the little boy we are now very excitedly expecting.
So, as luck would have it we pass question number one with flying colours. In fact, we come out with brownie points for the fact that it’s a boy. Very Latino. However, when it comes to announcing the name, we are clearly from another planet. I have never met anyone in the UK who rubs their tummy and introduces you to their bump by name, but in Chile this is entirely normal. “This is Celeste,” announced my new yoga teacher as she introduced herself and her unborn baby to the class.
At first we said we hadn’t decided on a name yet, but recently I began to admit we have a name but we’re saving the announcement until the birth. Clearly from people’s expressions, this is a very odd thing to do. My only saving grace is to steer the conversation back to the joys of one’s first born being a boy…