They live along the beach on the Pacific Coast, and we hope to get there eventually, but Nafisa is determined to have a home birth using a midwife (she herself is trained as a midwife among other specialties), and the Costa Rican health system, although excellent in many ways, shows a strong bias toward hospital births with obstetric interventions, resulting in a high rate of induction of labor and delivery by Caesarian section. There are no midwives in the region of Costa Rica where Sam and Nafisa live, so they had to travel to the vicinity of San Jose. They found a midwifery team based in Turrialba, a small city (about 33000 people) to the east of San Jose, and because birth dates are imprecise, they had to find housing in the area so that they could be within range of the midwives when labor begins. The lead midwife has a house "Casa Verbena," available for her clients in the hills above Turrialba, so that is where Sam, Nafisa and Abe are ensconced.
We arrived at the airport in San Jose in the early afternoon, but the line at immigration took ninety minutes, and by the time we had secured our luggage, made it to the rental car facility, and obtained our rental car with the requisite insurance tripling the cost of the rental, it was after 5 PM and darkness was approaching. We were anxious to see our family, but given the rough quality of many Costa Rican roads were did not want to risk driving all the way there in the dark. So instead, we found our way to the Best Western Irazú few miles from the airport where we were able to snag last-minute reservations. It was dark as we drove there, and traffic was a bit terrifying, but we used Waze to find our way there and despite a missed turn at a traffic circle we arrived fairly easily. We arrived just in time to take advantage of a “welcome drink” coupon at the in-hotel restaurant. The food in the restaurant was sufficient for our needs – I had Chifrijo as an appetizer which alone was close to providing enough food for dinner.
We called Sam and Nafisa to give them the bad news that we were not going to make it to Turrialba that day, and Sam gave me some really bad news – my father had died that very afternoon. It had been very hard leaving the U.S. knowing that my father would likely not live until we returned, but we had promised Sam and Nafisa that we would come help out with the birth and there were other members of the family to stay with him. Amazing coincidence: on the plane ride from Fort Lauderdale to San Jose, shortly after takeoff, I began sobbing thinking about my father and his impending death. Turns out this was just the time when he died.
The morning after our airplane arrival, we had the buffet breakfast (contents quite adequate), which was served in a room that opened up into the hotel’s garden, making the experience very nice. Our room was a tad small, but for an airport hotel this was a good choice.
Then we hopped in the car and drove off to Turrialba, or, more precisely, to Verbena Norte, a tiny community located in the mountains twenty minutes outside Turrialba. The roads to Turrialba were fine, but there were many potholes in the roads up in the hills —this would not have been a pleasant drive to make for the first time in the dark. We finally reached our destination in the late morning - a three story house with a bedroom on each floor, a bathroom and a wrap-around desk on the main two floors, and a living room and kitchen on the main floor. The view from the decks is glorious – we look out over the valley in which Turrialba is situated, with high mountains ringing the valley – two volcanoes (Volcan Turrialba and Volcan Irazú) are behind those mountains, although neither is visible from the decks.
Turrialba is about 2000 feet over sea level, and we are another 1500 feet up, so that we can sometimes see clouds below us. We can be in the rain, at the bottom of a cloud, and still see Turrialba clearly. Or Turrialba might be shrouded by a cloud but we can see the distant mountains clearly.
And there is a fair amount of rain. It is generally clear in the morning, but there is almost always an afternoon or evening shower.
December 22, the day after our arrival, was the hardest – the memorial service for my father was held back in New York. At least we were able to watch by a group Skype call and, in fact, Sam and I were each able to deliver our eulogies for him. That day, the midwife, Rebecca Turecky (who operates her practice under the auspices of a non-profit, Mamasol, that she originally created with a partner) came by in the afternoon to talk about plans for the birth and to get to know her patient a little better. In the evening, we ate out at a restaurant called the Rio that Turecky had recommended. It was fine although perhaps a little pricey. I had a stuffed canneloni that was pretty good, and Abe ate fully half of his adult portion of lasagna. The special thing here is the desserts, though — we were too full to have dessert but on a takeout basis later in the trip we enjoyed a nutella cangrejo (a triangle of pizza dough rolled over nutella and shaped into a pretzel, then baked in the pizza oven), and a passion fruit mousse cake. Yum!
Turned out that the midwife had come by just in time, because Nafisa had her baby the very next morning. In fact, her labor began at about 3:30 AM. The previous two days, in the course of visits to the fruit and vegetable store and the butcher, Sam and Nafisa had pointed to a municipal park where we might think of taking Abe so that he would not be in the house, freaking out about his mother going through labor; they took us to a smaller park where he had become used to playing. All these plans turned out to be unnecessary, and indeed our basic reason for coming was moot in that Abe slept right through the labor and birth, and awoke to find himself a big brother. (Despite his parents' repeatedly telling him about the impending birth and building up his concept of being a big brother, his initial reaction was somewhat bewilderment.)
I slept through it too, but my wife Nancy was awake and was able to help the birth team. And just after 6 AM, as I was finally waking up to the sound of a birthing pool being inflated, the labor got serious and at 6:23 a beautiful baby girl, Soraya Moana Levy-Jiddawi, came into the world
Nafisa's perspective on her birthing experience.
The following day, we started to explore the grounds of the house where we were staying. There was a trail that switch-backed down the hill,
past a variety of interesting flowers, including heliconia
the maraca (another form of heliconia)
and ginger plants
There were a number of banana
and orange trees, but the fruits were all too high to reach.
Underfoot there were trails of leaf-cutter ants
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