JULY 9th, 2007

MONDAY, July 9th, 2007

Operation Egg

We arrived early at the Hospital this morning, and although we were there at 7:30, we were the first to arrive. Soon after, the office opened up and we were ushered into a private room, pretty nice, with its own bathroom. I was called back for a scan when Dr Parikh arrived, in the usual sonography room just off Dr Parikh’s office. The scan showed a beautiful round egg, and the other two, which were still misshapen. So, we would go ahead with the harvest- albeit not a very bountiful one.
About an hour later I was called back into the Operating Room just on the other side of the hallway, walked into the surgery and got on the table. Of course, I always think of everything as if it is a set, and couldn’t help but imagine that if I were decorating that Surgery, where I would have gotten the antiquated medical instruments, in all their enameled 1940’s glory. Nevertheless, I wasn’t worried because Dr Parikh does so many of these surgeries, that as long as the sonically guided needle was working, that was all that mattered.

The next thing I knew, I was back in our room, so Hardy probably knows better exactly what happened. Total elapsed time- 7 minutes- was barely time for Hardy to have the free “Husband tea” he was offered.

We stayed in the room long enough to have the Indian vegetarian meal, and indulge ourselves with the cable TV, even if it was the bad 80’s movie Beethoven. And, as one must do with hospital food apparently all over the world, Hardy ran out to Domino’s and brought back some post-op pizza.

That afternoon we took it easy, but woke up in time to go down to the Consulate and have drinks with Michael Owen and his wife Annerieke. Michael Owen is the American Consul General in Mumbai, and he and his wife were kind enough to respond to my questions forwarded by my Aunt Teresita Schaffer. When my Aunt had been our Ambassador to Sri Lanka about ten years ago, and I had been to visit her. Both Michael and his wife had also been stationed in Sri Lanka, and had a passing acquaintance with my Aunt and they share a lot of mutual respect for each other. It was my Aunt that initially contacted the Owens about my list of Doctors, and they couldn’t have been more helpful in the initial endorsement of Dr Parikh. It turns out Annerieke is herself a Doctor. I think their affection for my Aunt and curiosity about ourselves also got us an invitation for drinks at their residence above the Consulate. The Consulate itself is a former Maharajah’s Mansion (literally), built in the 1930s and still very unchanged with its Deco marble staircases and intricate fretwork. The Consular General has the top two floors for their private residence. We arrived at 6pm, and went through the elaborate security system you might imagine we sadly need now abroad. Once up in the apartment we were met by Michael and his wife (and their son as he passed by- home from Princeton for the summer).
We talked about our impressions of Mumbai, crazy accounts in the local news, and how Annerieke was also aware of a growing fertility problem in India as professional women waited until later in life to have children. And though this is happening all over the world, it seems, unlike the rest of the world, Indian women have a low peri-menopausal age making it harder for even “young” women to have children.
We also discussed Arnold Schwarzenegger’s impending Bombay visit in two months. I’m sorry I didn’t ask more about this. All I do know is that he and Maria will be meeting with the Bollywood crowd while in Bombay for two days, after stopping in Delhi for a day, and then- need you ask?- going north to meet the Dali Lama. Additionally, we discussed the growing trend of Americans seeking foreign medical treatment- India being one of the more frequented countries. At present there is virtually no interface between Americans (or other foreigners) and the Indian Doctors and services they offer. I know I had to do a lot of internet research just to find Dr. Parikh, and if I hadn’t had my Aunt’s help, I don’t think I would have been nearly so comfortable coming 8,000 miles for treatment. Apparently, I (or someone) could have a tidy little business being an interface for these services, but I’m not quitting my day job!

After drinks and hors d’oevres they showed us the wonderful view out over the Arabian Sea. Unfortunately, due to the huge volume of visitors the Consulate processes daily (1200 Indians apply for visas to the US every day!) the Consulate will soon be moving to new and more secure quarters closer to the airport. But because they have a 999 year lease on the property, they are looking to do something with the site that will maintain and preserve it- one of the possibilities being to rent the building to a club of some sort (there must be many who would jump at the chance!) and also have something like an Indo-American Cultural Center housed there for the public to visit. Of course, being into Historical Preservation, I think that would be a great use for a fantastic property!

After the bracing air on their sweeping veranda, I realized just how tired I was from the early day, so we took our leave and headed home. A warm thanks to the Owens.

JULY 8th, 2007

SUNDAY July 8th, 2007

Cut and Polish

We woke up late of Sunday, and decided to take ourselves to a nice brunch as a treat. The restaurant books that Hardy bought (and studied) ranked all of the restaurants, bars and clubs by food, décor, etc, but as to a really good meal that we could savor, we hadn’t had one- until then. The restaurant is called Indigo, on a street right behind the Taj, housed in an old Colonial Mansion. The décor was beautiful and simple, and the food was amazing-even the bread basket was like heaven (with some super-yummy homemade donuts!). We ate and drank (only one drink for me) until we were stuffed and happy, and felt our equilibrium return. Bombay is a very “in your face” place, and sometimes a little respite from the hustle-bustle is so very welcome.

After the meal we went to the Gate to see if we could catch a ferry to the Elephanta Islands which are famous for the ancient carved figures of Ganesh inside some caves. After some dispute over whether the ferry runs to the Islands during monsoon season, (Taj and guide book said no, our hotel, after a phone call, said yes) we found the ticket seller in the crush of commuters going to the other ferry stops, and although the ferry was running, it was now too late in the day.

We stopped quickly on the way home to see the Victoria Terminus Train Station in all its Victorian glory, still mobbed with people and still seeming to run like clockwork, but with a long new regime name.

When we got back to the hotel, we decided to go for a walk on nearby Malobar Hill, where there was a park that Micheal Owen- our US Consular General, whom had been so helpful in all things- suggested was very pretty.

We walked up the hill past the Parsi Tower of Silence, an area we weren’t allowed to see because of its unusual purpose. The Parsi are Zoroastrians originally from Persia who played a large part in the establishment and growth of Bombay, and are a sizable sector of the society. Parsi worship the Fire, Air and the Earth, and because of this cannot bury or cremate their dead. The solution to this is to put the body on a tower, and have vultures devour it. Not really a sight for tourists! Behind the tower, which we couldn’t see, farther up on the hill, is a wonderful canopy of old-growth trees filled with multitude of avians; parrots, Bombay’s distinct grey headed crow, small fruit bats and the aforementioned vultures. Since we were passing at dusk, they were at their most active and it was exciting to see so much wildlife and hear their various cries. Farther on is a large park spreading out on either side of the road that was more like a formal partierre garden, and, as it was Sunday, filled to the brim with families taking a stroll. We found out later you are actually supposed to walk in a clockwise direction, (we weren’t) but what can a foreigner do! The gardens were lovely and had a great view, and so we kept walking further into Malabar Hill intending to walk to the end of the peninsula. This area was very cool and judging from the beautiful, well-maintained buildings, must be very expensive. Mumbai is the most expensive city in India, and Hardy, in his search through the paper every morning, was surprised to discover that the condos in the more fashionable areas sell for $2000 sq ft- high for anyplace including Manhattan!! So we walked along admiring Sir ____’s Mansion, and came across a barber shop directly out of a 1930’s time-warp. Beautiful cast iron and leather barber chairs facing an ancient mirror, and all the day’s runaway hairs making fine lines on the marble flooring. Of course Hardy got a haircut (he needed one!). The barber made quick work of it-but not rushing through the shave and the scalp massage- even though there was a line. Cost-Rs 80!
After this, we were pretty tired, and decided to go home and await the Surgery the next morning.

JULY 7th, 2007

SATURDAY July 7th, 2007

"What are these guys doing here?"

On Saturday we wandered all over the lower part of the city around Colaba and Fort. We went to see the Prince of Wales Museum, built at the same time as the Gate of India, and in the same Indo-Persian style. We got there with just enough time to look around at the wide variety of items (including unremarkable European oil paintings), with an insightful audio-guide about the treasures they do have- and an added bonus of learning about the Hindu religion and the history of the area. After that we roamed through the streets by the old fishing village- home to the original settlers of Bombai, (and the Goddess they used to worship Mumba). We got a little lost and wandered into some areas that were a little dicey, but it somehow Hardy and I – being so very white- are viewed more as a curiosity to the natives, who are always very respectful and non-threatening. More like “what are these guys doing here?” than “victims.” So we bumbled around through the backstreets (actually we did have a map!), and finally made it over the Colaba Market with its crazy jumble of building supplies, flowers, fruit and everything and dipped into the world’s smallest Baskin Robbins, like a tiny ice cream oasis, and got our bearings. Fortunately we were very close to our target, the i-café. Since it was too early in the states to call, we went back to Leopold’s, but this time sat upstairs in the very hip bar full of expatriots, and then I realized that this was the same bar that the writer of Shantaram, David Gregory, frequented in the book. Of course when Hardy and I decided to come to Mumbai, we went and bought lots of books; Hardy read some of Maximum City, a Wildlife guide to Sanjay Gandhi Park, and the Lonely Planet. Hardy’s mother, who has been to India many times, sent us a book (more like a tome at 900+ pages) called Shantaram, about an Australian convict who takes up Bombay as his home. And actually, reading this book did make me feel more comfortable with the city, like I knew it a little bit. Unfortunately, David Gregory, who I’m told still hangs out at Leopold’s, didn’t turn up by the time we finished our cold Budweiser in the very hot bar, having watched enough of Genesis at Wembley (for the Live Earth concert), to get us motivated to make some phone calls.

We finally found the CyberCafe-International Phone Booth -thank god we were on the wrong side of the street, and happened to look up to the second story to see the tiny “I-way” sign! Up an old Victorian staircase, the I-way had about 20 computer terminals and a couple of phone booth where you can make a call to the US for Rs 15 a minute. Hardy called his brother, and I called my numbers. We then had to head back to the hotel for my 10:30PM shot of Ovidrelle that was going to make the egg “bloom” and be ready for harvesting. After the shots we lay in bed and tried to imagine the egg blooming.

JULY 6th, 2007

FRIDAY July 6th, 2007

Diminishing Returns

As Hardy likes to remind me, and Dr. Naj liked to remind us both, this is a game of diminishing returns. In other words, we are down to one egg. Today, my E2 sank instead of rose, and that indicated that we were probably losing the other eggs. After an early morning E2, and a scan, my left ovary (remember my right is a complete no-show), had one well-rounded (literally) egg, that was almost the size it needed to be. The two other follicles were smaller and still oddly shaped, so they are most likely not candidates, although they probably will be extracted and fertilized on the off-chance that something happens with them. My extraction will be early on Monday morning and is supposed to take about 20 minutes.
And, at long last, we were able to pay the hospital the money for the surrogate, and the head-hunter, or in the literature “the woman who finds the surrogate.”
We had brought Travellers Checks for the purpose of paying for our Hospital charges, as getting a lot of money out via credit card is difficult. All our other expenses could be paid for by taking money out of the numerous ATMs-but not large sums. The day before yesterday we made a trip down to the American Express office in Fort, but after waiting for the teller to return from lunch, we were informed you are not allowed to exchange more than $2000 per passport per month, and besides which, he didn’t have that kind of money available and to come back tomorrow. When we did come back tomorrow, it was first to Thomas Cook, whose offices are spacious (and air-conditioned) where they helped us right away, and then to AmEx, to change the rest of our money, before anyone was the wiser. So although we know Regal Square well, we have managed to do almost no sight seeing.
So today, after exchanging the last of our Travellers Checks (at the HSBC right around the corner) we went off to see the Haji Ali Mosque. This Mosque is located on an “island” in the bay, and you have to take a walkway that they say is occasionally covered by a high tide. The story goes that the Prophet Haji Ali went off to fight a Holy War (against who I wonder?), and was killed in battle, but his coffin miraculously floated back to this point in Bombay. So, they built a Mosque here, that I think even (or maybe especially) Haji Ali would find somewhat dilapidated. While there I had my first encounter with urchins- of the child variety- who initially ripped a 20 Rupee piece from my hand and ran away, but later ended up giving me several one rupee pieces which I think they figured I wouldn’t take, and walking back with us all the way back down the walkway- to the Coke vendor, where, even though they were very charming, we did not buy them a Coke.

JULY 5TH, 2007

THURSDAY July 5th, 2007

Gate of India

Wednesday afternoon at 3pm we went to the Hospital for another scan (ultrasound). I still have the three follicles (although only two look promising), and even those two do not appear to be growing as quickly as desired- as shown visually and with an E2 test. In the test, each emerging follicle will produce a level around 300, and so 3 viable follicles will equal an E2 around 900. My E2 is 700 at the moment. Dr. Parikh decided to up the dosage of Menogon to 900IU, and gave me a shot of Antigon to stop a particular hormone from rising while we are still trying to grow the eggs.

That evening we packed up the medicine and a syringe and went to explore the Fort and Colaba parts of town. We had the cab drop us off at the famed Taj Hotel which is right across the street from the Gate of India- a large, arched ceremonial Gateway erected to commemorate the visit of King George V and Queen Mary in 1911 (although in true India style, it wasn't started until 1913 and, after being washed away once, was finally finished late 1924). They are doing some construction on the park around it now, but the Gate was still accessible and very beautiful- lit like a wedding cake, and a great place for romance on a warm, post-rain evening, and many Mumbaikers seemed to be taking advantage of it.

We had a drink and watched the sun fall over the Gate in the Taj’s Harbour Bar, the oldest bar in Bombay. I had a refreshing Kingfisher, and Hardy had the most delicious dry Martini ever- and he has tried a reasonable test group! After this we wandered around the spacious and elegant hotel, and watched the rain fall on the lushly landscaped pool and gardens. As we strolled through the shopping arcades, (Burburry et al) we saw a small luxury fabrics shop. Hardy sensed an opportunity to buy something beautiful and not have to haggle and sweat back at the ancient market. The merchants were fantastic and showed us such beautiful, handmaid silk fabrics that we couldn't make up our minds. These fabrics are only made ten meters at a time (and we need 14), so it was which two went together the best. Believe me, they were all so amazing! I guess you'll have to come over to our place to see which one's we chose, an extra added bonus being that purple was my Grandmother's favorite color!

After this we walked by the restaurant in the hotel we thought we might eat at. It looked pretty dead, so we decided we'd hit a restaurant in Hardy's "Times Food Guide", in the "Heritage Restaurants"category. The restaurant, Leopold's, opened 140 years ago, was close by and somewhat of a classis tourist destination, but the food was good, and the ambiance old-world Raj, with a Hirshfeld type mural and more than a little Casablanca. It was fun to get out and see what most peoples impression of Bombay would be if they'd only come for the day.

This morning I had more blood tests, amid some talk about high blood sugar. We are going to see the doctor at 3pm for another scan- fingers crossed! -and the results of the blood tests. Last night I tried to do some "visualization" of my follicles growing, so wish us luck, and check back!

JULY 3rd, 2007

TUESDAY July 3rd, 2007

Two Follicles

Today we had another visit with Dr. Parikh. Now two follicles, and four more days of Menogon. I am really getting tired of being stuck with a big, fat needle twice a day! All this for two follicles. Wondertwins divide! We are keeping our hopes up, and have gone over the contract we will be signing, changing a few crucial details, like removing the sentence that gives the Surrogate the right to terminate for non-health reasons, and conversely inserting a line that gives us the right to terminate if, upon genetic testing- which would happen with amnio- the fetus is found to be abnormal. I got the feeling from the very informal forms, that Surrogacy actually happens rather infrequently. Or maybe this is a hallmark of the more relaxed legal situation (and less legal expense) that was a factor in our decision to come here. Dr Parikh has continued to remind us that all we need is one embryo to implant, but I do know enough about the process to know that older eggs are less likely to fertilize properly, and more likely to miscarry if they do implant. Not the best of news! But, we remind ourselves, this is why we are doing this here, so that we might try this more quickly and more inexpensively. Realistically, our odds in the states would be exactly the same in that we would have had the same number of follicles. And since one cannot just sit and wait, everyday we have been exploring new parts of the city. Yesterday in the morning we decided to go to the fabled Fabric Market. Indian fabrics are famously beautiful and exported all over the world, and I like the fact that India actually started to grow cotton to supply the British mills when American cotton production was disabled during the Civil War, another crazy-little-world outsource story. When we first stepped out of the cab at the general market we were met by a taut- I believe he was Muslim because he was wearing a round white cap, and a long white flowing rope that zipped up the front. He directed us up some crazy narrow stairs to his designated store, which didn't have what we are looking for- material to re-cover my Grandmother's dining chairs- but I did buy a pillow cover out of sympathy, and he did learn what it was we were looking for. Next he took us across the street (and again up the stairs) to an upholstery fabric shop which had almost the right fabric. I think when he had run out of “his stores”, or realized we were going to be tough customers, he raised his hands in “sorry”, so we gave him a Rs100 bill ($2.50) and were off. And so we went to find the Mangaldas Market, and, after several more tauts and wrong directions, we stepped inside its narrow opening. It was exactly as I'd seen in Victorian Odalisque Bazaar etchings. The market is a two-story enclosed building about a square block big, full of cubbies on the ground floor about eight or ten feet square with narrow futons, meticulously covered in clean white cloth, spread on the floor, and bolt after bolt of fabric crammed into nooks on the sides, and piled in a small backroom with a curling staircase that allows access to the loft- presumably where the rest of the fabrics are kept. In the middle of the stall sit two of three men, cross-legged, with several younger men hovering- standing – in the back or in the aisle. The man in charge will ask what you want, “Miss” or “Madam” in my case. Fortunately, we had some swatches from the first store as a beginning point. And then out tumbled the fabric. After about five stalls in heat so pervasive and stifling, that time was marked by the beads of sweat that ran down my back- and not a Coke in sight- we decided we had better come another time when we could spend more time and were better hydrated, and headed back to the Hotel to get ready to see the Doctor. At night we went to Lower Patel and the Big Bazaar to one of the only Sports Bars in town. A “big” cricket match between Pakistan and India was being played in Glasgow and it sounded like it would be a fun cultural experience. Big Bazaar turned out to be a large shopping mall with a Marks and Spencer (British dept store), Lacoste, and lots of other Western stores. A lot like the Beverly Center. We went to The Bowling Co.- yes, the people there were bowling- we played some video games (Fast and Furious anyone?) and then went to the bar to wait for the match to start. Unfortunately, the game was called due to rain, but we hung around, drank a couple of happy-hour 2 for 1 beers, and watched as the room filled with young well-to-do people on their way home from work. Bombay has so many different hierarchies of wealth and education, just like LA, but everyone seems like they are relatively happy. It seems every corner is a jumping off point for an outrageous story or a common one. One of our favorite things to do is to look out from our window at the hotel, (a pigeons-eye view from the eighth floor), at any hour and watch the tiny dramas unfold, rush and pulse on our street. The other day, a woman spilled a bag of flour from off the top of her head all over the sidewalk on the other side of the street. As she knelt to scoop into a bag all that she could save, almost every passer-by either helped her or shook their head, undoubtedly telling her that what she was doing was unsanitary. Along came a woman whose cow tried to eat some of the flour, and even the corner’s resident dog came out from his storefront to take a look. Then, when she was almost done (woe be it to the people that get the dish made with that!) a car backed up through the driveway, and the drama was over.

JULY 2nd, 2007

MONDAY July 2nd, 2007

Meeting the Surrogate

People in the US who had been to India advised that the poverty and dirtiness would be horrible…but the experience would be great. We also expected to be mobbed by beggars and I expected to have a problem with the smaller personal spaces in this culture. But, we are happily not dealing with any of this! We are staying in a nicer part of the wealthiest city in India and it is shockingly easy;

The medical proceedings have been the difficult part. Today we went in for our visit, and also met our surrogate. Dr Parikh confirmed that there are still only two maturing follicles, and that the maximum number of eggs she expects is two. This compared to over 20 in younger women. Considering there are many steps left, each with its own probability, this leaves only a very small hope of success.

The meeting with our surrogate, Zuleka, was brief, but special. She doesn’t speak English, so Dr. Parikh translated the few questions that we had. She is 25 with two children of 9 and 6. Her husband is an electrician and supports her being a surrogate so long as she is comfortable with it. The country people in India have a very charming way of bobbing there head from side to side when things are ok, and she’s an expert at it. It’s the original bobblehead , and when done right, which she does, it’s as if the head is being controlled by a string. She seems like the shy country girl that Dr Parikh told us she is, and very charming.