Having a Baby in Russia

A new friend here from the States will be having a baby on a couple of weeks. I asked her what that will look like. She said that you have to go a special clinic to have babies. There are three levels of service - regular (one room for mom and baby), VIP (One room for mom and one room for baby), and super VIP (one room for mom, one for baby, and one for dad). If you have a natural birth, expect to spend 3-5 days in the hospital. If you have a c-section, expect to spend 5-7 days.

They will not induce babies here to accomodate schedules or personal preferences such as the case in the U.S. When you factor in having to call and wait for a driver/taxi to come pick you up once you start going into labor and then the commute (in traffic most likely) to the hospital... that sounds stressful to me. Alison noted that it takes almost an hour to get from her apartment to the hospital. She said once you get arrive, there are a few unique steps. First, they take moms to a room and shave them - completely - below the waist. Next they go to another room to have an enema. And then, they go to a room to have the baby. And, of note, babies born in Russia do not get Russian citizenship unless their parents are Russian.

I asked my driver about the process of having a baby as a Russian citizen. He said that women can stay on maternity leave for up to 2.5 years at 30-50% salary. They can go back to work sooner if they want, but can't be fired or refused pay within that time frame. Additionally, the government gives them the equivalent of coupons that can be exchanged for all the baby formula needed at special stores. New parents are also given a one time cash sum of about $3000 to cover expenses for the baby. Given slow population growth rate, the government gives an increasingly higher stipend for each additional child. And, a couple has five children, the government will give them a new apartment. All medical care is free for Russian citizens. It costs nothing to have a baby (in terms of medical fees). And if a Russian child gets sick, the parents just pick up the phone and call the doctor - who comes to the house to see the patient. All this, and Russians are only taxed at 13%. Sure, the medical care may not always be up to western standards, but nevertheless, I find it pretty impressive.

Another Day

I've dubbed Moscow weather like a snowy, darker version of Seattle. Little piddly snow all the time. It's getting light now just after 9am which is nice. Both kids r good- healthy. I take Wylie to a Russian clinic tmrw for his 4 month shots- at clinic supported by Jake's work. I have a doctors appt the following afternoon with an American doctor at the American clinic. I will feel more comfortable with an American doctor in case there's an emergency or serious illness- and willing to pay out of pocket for that. I've heard from a few ex-pat mom's that if ur child gets sick Russian doctors always prescribe saline nose spray. One mom said that her son was diagnosed with bronchitis (respiratory problems are common here due to pollution) and the doctor prescribed physical therapy. What?

Met two American couples at a basketball game today. Both moms in a toddler group. There was some ticket confusion and this Russian woman was really rude indicating we could not sit in the empty seats next to her (which remained empty all game). I showed her the tickets, she looked really annoyed, and pointed to the seats on the other side of her and then acted like we didn't exist. I raised my eyebrows and mouthed "wow - sorry!" Everyone shrugged her off. They looked at me and said I would start to get used to it while noting she really wasn't that bad- just wait.. Great!

On the way home the driver told me a story about how he and his wife got in a fight yesterday. He apparently stumbled and someone his daughters finger was injured. His wife came over and punched him in the face. He said he hit her back in the face but "not hard" and she hit him about five more times in the face - at which point, he just took the blows. Presumably his daughter was standing there given he lives in a one bedroom apartment. He said he got very sick shortly after and was in the bathroom throwing up for an hour.. He suspected he had either drank too much wine or it was bad... How do u respond to that kind of story? I was speechless and finally noted that I hoped he felt better today as I got out of the car..

Gym Memberships & Culture

Gym memberships in Moscow are incredibly expensive, averaging between $300 - $500 per month. Some of the more popular chains include Gold's Gym and World Class Gym. Despite the ridiculous price, I joined the club in our building. How many options do you have when it is 2F outside? It's a nice club, though perhaps not as nice as I would expect for the price. There is a pool, co-ed steam room, cardio room, weight room, small cafe, three rooms with various classes, and sauna in the locker rooms. I haven't noticed any other foreigners at my gym yet.

Gym culture is a trip. If you want to fit in as a woman, there are 5 main rules:

Rule #1 - Put the little blue slippers over your shoes when you enter the gym lobby (look like a shower cap for shoes) and

Rule #2 - Check your coat with the coat-check person.

Rule #3 - Don't sweat. This rule is critical for the many woman that can actually be seen putting on make-up prior to working on it. Not just basic make-up mind you, but full-on applications that include lip stick and mascara.

Rule #4 - Don't be polite in the western sense of the word. This means, don't acknowledge strangers in passing with a Russian hello or a smile unless you want people to either look at you like you are strange or just completely ignore you. Don't hold a door open for someone for the same  reasons. Likewise, be prepared for a door to head quickly for your face if someone walks through it right in front of you. I progressed from the western polite stage to ignoring people entirely (with no eye contact), to now looking at them directly in the eye  with a blank stare while walking by - which is what they all seem to do. It's fascinating to sit on a chair and watch these passing interactions.

Rule #5 - Don't lift weights, especially free weights. The weight room is 95% male. The free weight area is 99.5% male. There seem to be a lot of olympic-style power lifters in Russia. With a couple of exceptions, the only time I see woman in the weight room is when they are accompanied by a personal trainer.

I break all the rules. Since I live in the building and don't walk outside to get to the gym, I don't bother with the blue shower caps for shoes. I used to check my coat until the coat check lady gave me the wrong jacket back - twice. Seriously, how hard is that job? Accept a coat, bring it to coat rack, take number off where coat goes, give that number to the customer. I like the three coats I brought with me, so haul them into the locker room with me now. If I don't sweat, it's not a workout. I'm also trying to lose baby weight (45 pounds down with 10 to go!), so I like for my shirt to almost be soaked before I break the next rule of lifting weights. I'm doing a modified version of the P90X program, so free weights are key.

I have only attended the yoga class at the gym. In true yoga fashion, the Russian woman that teaches it seems really cool. She figured out that I don't speak Russian during my first class so sprinkles in English for me from time to time and smiles in a zen way when she speaks to me. The atmosphere of the class is different from what is typically found in the U.S. such that people will leave in the middle of the class, others will consistently stop doing poses early and just sit, and there are even a couple of woman that keep their phone next to them the entire time - intermittently reading and sending text messages during poses. Bizarre. I lost my mind before the first class thinking the woman standing around were yoga people more than Russians. I smiled and quietly said hello in Russian to two woman while waiting for the room to open. Again, my efforts were met with cold, suspicious stares.

In the News: Vodka as a Saving Grace

Classic article printed in the New York Times...

Russia: Vodka Saves Animals’ Lives

By ELLEN BARRY

A Russian circus trainer fed a cocktail of warm water and vodka to two elephants stranded in the blistering Siberian cold on Thursday and credited it with saving their lives. A trailer carrying the Indian elephants caught fire on a highway in the Novosibirsk region, sending emergency workers scrambling to get the animals out of the cold and into a nearby garage, state media reported. The animals’ trainer, Leonid Labo, diluted two cases of vodka and fed the mixture to the animals, he told Komsomolskaya Pravda, a popular tabloid. The animals suffered nothing more serious than frostbite to their ears, a veterinarian said. The director of the Novosibirsk regional zoo said if not for the vodka, the animals certainly would have died. “In cold temperatures we give vodka to the elephants and the monkeys even when they are inside,” said the director, Rostislav Shilo. “But only domestic vodka.”

A version of this brief appeared in print on December 15, 2012, on page A7 of the New York edition with the headline: Russia: Vodka Saves Animals’ Lives.

Travel to Moscow with Babies = Hellish

We arrived safely in Moscow in early December from the States. My husband Jake had been living alone in Moscow since August while I moved in with parents and waited for our son to be born. We decided to wait until Wylie had received his two month year old shots before making the trip. Jake flew back from Moscow the day before to pick us up. The trip from Florida generally lived up to my nightmarish expectation with a 2 month year old, an 18 month year old, two strollers, two car seats, and five carry on bags distributed between my husband Jake and I.

I must admit that the kids were better than expected for the most part. The first hurdle came when we landed at the Atlanta airport. We were supposed to arrive in Terminal A and fly out of B. Instead we arrived in Terminal N and flew out of Terminal E - or something like that to the effect of arriving and leaving out of opposite ends of the airport. We checked with the gate agent upon receiving this news - we were assured we had enough time to make the connection. We loaded up the two strollers with all the luggage and Wylie's carseat (stroller 1) and Anna in her carseat in stroller number 2. I was holding Wylie in a baby wrap on my chest pushing Anna. Jake was pushing all the luggage on the other stroller. After boarding the subway, we noticed it took a while to leave - about 6 minutes. We figured it must be because we were starting at the beginning. We arrived in Terminal A - and again a long delay - about five minutes. Next stop Terminal B - delay again. I watched a pilot and stewardess get off and start walking.. not a good sign. What do they know? Jake and I kept looking at each other confused. I kept shrugging my shoulders. Jake noted that since getting on the subway, about 14 minutes had passed yet we had only progressed two stops. At this rate, we would miss our plane. We decided to run for it. Not realizing that I would be running in an airport, I decided to wear some new boots with a healthy 2 inch heel. Jake took the lead - his fast walk and long legs necessitated my jog to keep up. I held Wylie's head in one hand and pushed Anna's stroller with the other... about a 1/2 mile into the journey, a very nice employee offered to help. She took Anna's stroller so I could hold Wylie with both hands while jogging. By the time we completed the journey (which we estimated at 2 miles), the flight was boarding, I was literally drenched with sweat and had blisters forming on the balls of my feet. But, we made it.

When we got to New York, we asked if we could get some assistance to change gates because I couldn't walk very well. Damned boots! There were literally two airline employees with empty wheel chairs standing around looking bored at the Delta gate. I asked if I could get a ride to our next gate. They said no since I had a baby strapped onto me. Seriously? One lady offered to call her supervisor to see if they could make an exception since I couldn't walk. While we waited for the verdict on the support, Jake learned that we had to catch a bus from one side of the airport to the other. After coming to this realization, the Delta supervisor called and said the employees sitting there with empty wheel chairs could not help me. We didn't have time to argue - so the jog started again. The pain in my legs and feet quickly brought memories of the end of the walk I completed around Lake Washington in middle school - 55 miles in 19 hours. With each step, pain shot up my leg. I had worn either flip flops or cowboy boots 98% of the last four years while completing my PhD at the University of Texas in Austin. The boots I was wearing were the heaviest shoes I was bringing to Moscow, hence my decision to wear them instead of packing them. Oops.

We finally reached the area where we had to catch the bus. Jake had trouble locating the tickets at first so the woman left the desk and started to shout directions to about 80 people standing around. Almost immediately after she turned her attention from Jake, I pulled the boarding tickets from his back pocket. She said - "Wait here." The cold wind was whipping our faces from that spot as the automatic was fixed at open. She literally cleared the entire room full of people at this point. I alternated between watching the space on the two buses fill, our two massive strollers with car seats, and the clock realizing that if we didn't get on the bus, we could easily miss our flight to Moscow. We kept trying to politely show her that we had the tickets - she kept forcefully reminding us to "Wait Here!" After the over-sized room was completely empty, she took our tickets. Then, to my surprise, she walked out to one of the buses (seemingly completely full) and screamed that everyone needed to move back because we had to fit the babies on the bus. We crammed the stollers up onto the bus and squeezed in. While getting off the bus, one of the tires on the BOB stroller popped. Perfect! Jake pushed the stroller at a tilt. After a brisk and painful (for me) walk to the gate, we found our plane was already boarding.

We made it to our seats and did a quick low five to celebrate making the flight. Little did we know at the time that we were sitting directly behind the WORST crying toddler I have ever encountered in my life. I am a seasoned traveler, so that says a lot. Besides the two 2-hour intervals that he slept - he cried the entire way to Moscow letting out piercing screams every 2-3 minutes... except when his mother would carry him around the plane. He had her well trained. I wanted to give her a basic lesson in behavior analysis, but figured she wouldn't probably appreciate it or understand (given she spoke Russian). Wylie slept through the wails for the most part. Anna didn't sleep at all. Of the entire 25 hour journey, she literally only slept - or tried to sleep - the last two hours of the flight to Moscow. What 18 month year old does that? About 45 minutes after she fell asleep, I had just finished feeding Wylie and changing him, I had just closed my eyes for maybe a minute with a little smile thinking - 'At Last!" and Jake pulled out his computer to work on videos for work when the little terror in front of us woke up and started wailing again. Jake took his jacket and put it over the space between the two seats - like that would block the noise.. Anna woke up and then she started wailing. Our whole section of the plane started fidgeting in silent protest and discontent. I also wanted to start crying because it was the first quiet moment we almost had. Thank God for the ipad - Caillou and Super Why calmed her down and kept her occupied until we landed. It was almost 10am in Moscow. There were a few inches of snow on the ground and it was about 15F outside. 

We were the last to get off the plane in Moscow. When we got through the gate, a woman hurried us to an escalator which would take us to customs. After we went through the doors, we realized there was no elevator and started to turn back - asking her where the elevator was. She said something in a harsh Russian tone. We motioned to the massive strollers filled with babies and luggage. She said something gruffly in Russian again - my guess something to the extent of - Deal with it! Then she slammed the door closed, locked the door, and walked off. Jake looked at me smiling and said - "Welcome to Russia!" He managed to get both of the strollers up the escalator. We collected 7 suitcases weighing a total of 370 pounds, which Jake loaded them onto three carts. So now we have three massive carts and two loaded strollers with Wylie in a Mobi wrap on my chest. We were the only travelers in the terminal at this point. There were at least six airport employees watching us try to figure out how to move everything. Not one lifted a finger to help us which really surprised me given the babies if nothing else. Again, Jake managed to move everything. 

Our driver was waiting for us on the other side of customs. He and Jake loaded all of our luggage into our black Mercedes (that Jake had purchased a few months earlier when he first arrived in Moscow) and another van. Soon after getting in the car, I got to experience Moscow traffic. There was a big accident somewhere so it took us an hour to get to our apartment rather than 20 minutes. On the way, Jake learned that he had to go to work for an important meeting. He had time to help get the suitcases in the door and then left for about a four hours. The nanny was waiting to help unpack = bonus. By this point, I had been awake the better part of 2 days and poor Jake had been awake the better part of 4 days. Including the travel he completed just before picking us up in Florida and almost immediately after dropping us off in Moscow - he traveled almost 18,000 miles in less than 5 days.

The time zone changes were tough on Wylie, Anna, and I.  The first night, Anna only woke up once crying while Wylie was up every three hours. Last night Anna was up a few times and Wylie was up every few hours again - but wouldn't go to back to sleep after eating. As such, I was feeding him or holding one of them from 12am to 6am. Everyone is quiet now - going to try to get some sleep. Starting at the ground floor - seems like things can only get easier right?