The above photo is Aunt Maiko (not Tomoe's sister, but acts like an aunt to Mona, and was a HUGE help in the rice field last year when Tomoe was knocked up, and helps us a lot on our tours.) At one time we thought about giving her a spare room in the house and hiring her as a nanny so we could focus on work and farming, but since she would not be able to feed Mona anyway, it wouldn't really free Tomoe up so much, except for washing diapers, which Tomoe LOVES (seriously) to do, so she would never let Maiko take that job anyway. Maybe when Mona is a bit older and doesn't need boob.

We're getting lots of mail about the TV show from people who saw it in Tokyo, as well as people who watched the video that Vincent so graciously shared with us. In case you haven't seen the comment section of the previous post, you can watch the Japanese version below (part 1 on top continued in the second video). I am still working on the English subtitles, and trying to figure out how to add them to the video. So if you don't have time to watch it twice, you might want to wait for the English subtitle version...

Next, we see some shots taken on our walk yesterday. Nothing spectacular, just showing how much snow we still have left. We don't expectit to snow any more.Today was rain, and the days feel like spring. What a fast winter it was!

And finally, below we see Aunt Maiko's reaction to Tomoe's diciplinary methods when Mona won't drink.

To whom it may concern. Today, Feb 23, Mona makes her TV debut. The film crew that has been following us for almost a year now has finally put together their documentary. It will not be broadcast in our area, so I have to wait for the DVD from the producer. If you are in the Kansai (and possibly Kantou?) area, you can see it on Fuji TV (Channel 8) at around 6:00 or 6:15. The name of the program is Su-pa- Nyusuu (Super News), or something like that.

I love getting free hand-me-downs. Thanks to the two people who offered me their old phones! And to Kurt for bringing me the free darkroom equipment next month! And to everyone else who has clothed and kept Mona warm with their gifts.

More photos of the little girl. I'm working on getting her her own blog so I can post every single photo I take of her, instead of spending hours trying to select just a few from hundreds.

Things have been going great with Mona. She smiles a lot now and has started alerting us before she pees or poops so that we can take her diaper off and put her in the baby potty a friend gave us. It will be great when she can crawl there by herself. As it is she starts staring intensely in the direction of the potty, and tries to roll toward it, but can't quite make her body move.

lyrics here

My ba-by kissed me good-night, and I am glad to relate that by the time I got home, I was feeling great I climbed up the door and o-pened the stairs. I said my pajamas and put on my pray'rs. I turned off the bed and crawled into the light. and all because you kissed me (Kiss) goodnight.

Next morning, I woke and scrambled my shoes. I shined up an egg, then I toasted the news, I buttered my tie and took another bite. and all because you kissed me (Kiss) goodnight.

By evening I felt normal, so we went out again. You said, "Goodnight," and kissed me. I hurried home and then,

I climbed up the door and opened the stairs. I said my pajamas and put on my prayr's. I turned off the bed and crawled into the light, and all because you kissed me (Kiss) goodnight.

I powdered my hair and pinned up my nose. I hung up the bath and I turned on my clothes. I put out the clock and wound the cat up tight, and all because you kissed me (Kiss) goodnight.

I ran up the shade and pulled down the stair. I curled up the rug and I vacuumed my hair. I just couldn't tell my left foot from my right, and all because you kissed me (Kiss) goodnight.

By evening I felt normal, so we went out again. You said, "Goodnight," and kissed me. I hurried home and then,

I lifted the preach'r and called up the phone. I spoke to the dog and I threw your Ma a bone. 'Twas mid-night and yet, the sun was shining bright. and all because you kissed me (Kiss) goodnight.

The only function I really need is to be able to call and receive calls. (the only people that ever email me are call-girls anyway)

kevin@kevincameron.net

And, its only appropraite to balance yesterday's snow-porn post with some baby-po... errr... that doesn't sound right... Some photos of Mona. In the photos below you can see that she is already quite smart and aware of the world around her.

• Photo 1: Mona listening to classical guitar.
• Photo 2: Mona listening to me sing.
• Photo 3: Mona after we asked "Who wants boob?"
• Photo 4: Mona being Mona"

Below you see Tomoe with the girl in charge of teaching expecting/new mothers in the village about how to be a mother. (would you believe she is already a mother of five? Just kidding.)

It has been snowing for two days again. These photos are from yesterday morning. There is more this morning. Luckily, the little ditch in front of our house has stopped running, and they are asking people not to dump snow into it for the time being. At least now Tomoe can't be mad at me for staying inside or taking a long walk with the camera...

Above: One of the gates of the local temple.

Above: Taking care of the snow - important places to go... (actually the little girl's ski competition was cancelled due to the poor visibility on the slopes.)

Below: Random buildings, street scenes, and shops in the village. The newest looking one is a "Country Life Experience" house, made to let people see what it would be like to live in a small town (and hopefully encourage people to move here). You can stay there for 1,000 yen per night per family. If anyone is interested, let me know.

Below: A stranded snow-plow, garbage collection area, and bus-stop.

Below: Our house after the first night of snow. I know it doesn't look like much, but that is because i spent a day last week shoveling everything that had accumulated so far.

Watching Mona playing with Poosh - the name Tomoe gave to the little sheep that mom and dad sent - I am wondering where she got her Kiwi genes...

She also enjoys hanging out with "stand-in grandma" (we gotta think of a better name for that) who lives next door.

While Tomoe spent the day Sunday playing with Mona, I had to go to work as a volunteer guide for a snow-hike with the nearby Iiyama Mori-no-ie group. I have some more photos from that hike, but can't seem to post anything other than Mona.

Mona'a a star now, and it's not hard to see why. The television crew made their last visit (or so they promised us) last Friday to get some shots of us at home with Mona- some soft-core action of Tomoe giving chichi (breast feeding) her, and hard-core video of me struggling to write decent caligraphy of her name for the traditional "meimei" - what you do when you give a child a name.

The large paper (all of which Tomoe and I made in the traditional methods of this area, which is famous for its high-quality paper) is one that I wrote with the cameras pressing down on me. I also wrote one of the smaller postcards, and Tomoe wrote one of the smaller postcards after I challenged her when she was laughing at me. It would make me happy if no one can figure out who wrote what.

Despite the poor caligraphy, she seems to be happy with the name.

Don't worry, once things get closer to normal, there will be more photos about life here that aren't exclusively about the baby (Tomorrow I go snow-hiking and hope to get some good photos). But for now, by popular demand, more photos of Jane Doe. We have until Monday to figure out what this little girl will be called for the rest of her life.

Here are some photos from today - as little Mona(?) enjoys the warmth of Aunt Kelly's hand-knit winter cap.

In the mean time, everything is going well. I just got called into the local office to speak with the village official in charge of social welfare. I was afraid that it was because they heard that we had taken baby to the public bath, and as everyone in Japan knows - taking a baby out of the house before he/she is one-month old leads to most certain death.

It turns out that she just wanted to check in and see how everything is going. They also have to make a "home visit" sometime in the first month. On the one hand, this is offending. I am SURE that they would not approve of the conditions we live in (no heat but for a small fire stove, dust and wood chips around, no baby bed (we all sleep together in the same futon), and four cockatiels in the same room, not to mention the mice we hear in the walls every night...) But on the other hand, I also understand their position and the service they are providing. Not all the new parents in the village are as educated and informed as we are. We know what we are doing, and when we do something different than the "national standard" we know why we do it differently. Just a few months ago though, a neighbor's daughter (twenty years old) gave birth and when I asked about her experience at the hospital, she said "It was great! They gave me free diapers!". I guess when it comes to looking after the dwindling population of the village, there are bound to be some false-negatives. I am happy to oblige.

Others have asked me to blog about how we are raising her in our bohemian way, and I plan to give some details. Fact is, though, we are not that unorthadox.

I miss the days when I could shovel my Mrs. Stabnicks drive in an hour and get a stick of Juicy Fruit gum or an apple as payment...

As I mentioned in the "Baby Comes Home" post, there was an unusually big snowfall for January while we were in the hospital. That was Thursday and Friday. Saturday was a bit less snow falling, but all the drainage ditches were clogged due to everyone shoveling and dumping their snow in at once, and an avalanche up-river. I didn't know about it until yesterday, but apparently two of the 80-year-old men put on their snow shoes and made the trek up to clear out the river, once again bringing water to our little hamlet. Apparently there was no one else who was experienced enough to do it. I told the local head that next time I would like to go along - even if I can't be of much help, at least I can watch and learn. He laughed at me.

On Sunday, all the head (males) of the houses gathered in the morning to shovel the snow from various hamlet assets, such as the shrines, the fire-brigade shack, and all the fire hydrants. In the photo you see my kumi (section of the hamlet) trying to find a shrine under the snow. It was literally under the snow. Out of sight.

I was on Yuki-fumi-toban ("your turn to stop the snow down") duty, so on Monday I and a neighbor set off to shovel in front of the garbage collection spot, again in front of the fire-brigade shack, and in front of the local meeting hall. It is quite an easy job now, but back before the big snow-plows, yuki-fumi-toban had to stomp down a trail in the morning so the children could get to school, and other people could get to the local store or wherever they may have needed to go.

Due to the water shortage, I have not yet shoveled the roof of our entrance-way, but the doors still slide smoothly, so it must not be too heavy. Instead, I spent yesterday helping our neighbor shovel another neighbor's roof. Usually it takes him only one day to do it alone, but by night-fall, we had still not finished.

Today and yesterday, I set out to clear the snow from our backyard, where it is piled up to the eve of the second-floor roof. If I don't clear it away, it will eventually just be resting on top of the roof on the oldest part of the house. While I doubt it will collapse, it may warp the house, and cause some very unhappy chickens living in the first-floor garage who can't get food until spring.

I shoveled all day, mostly just re-digging the path I dug to the river a few weeks ago. Just as the sun was about to go down, I was finally to the point where I could start clearing the area that is actually important. Luckily, tomorrow is going to be sunny and warm again, so if I am not too sore, I might be able to make some headway - and possibly find the pond that is supposed to be used to melt all that snow...

We came home from the hospital a day early. I am not sure if it is because Tomoe and the baby were in such good condition, or if they just wanted to get rid of those freaky people who bring a rice cooker and rice to cook their own meals, and walk through the halls at night singing to their baby. Whatever the reason, they were happy to see us leave early. (Even nurses on different floors who we had never met saw me in the elevator and new that we were leaving that afternoon.)

The TV crew came for our release. It couldn't have been a better day for TV documentary drama. Some of the rads were closed due to snow, and we chose to take a back road to avoid heavy traffic. Back roads take longer, but make for much better scenery and TV.

All the nurses were asking if we would be able to get into the house, and I assured them that our neighbors had probably shoveled our entrance way already. When we got home though, there was a meter of fresh snow between us and the front door, so while Tomoe and the baby waited in the car, I tunneled a path to the door making it extra dramatic for the TV folks.

We are still thinking about names. I like "Kogomi" (a type of wild edible fern that people in this area eat a lot of), "Fubuki" (Means whiteout. One of the boys who will be in her class is named "Kaisei" which means "Clear skies", so i thought that if they ever hooked-up, it might be cool to have those names.) We have a few days left before we have to officially decide. So far the front-runner is "Mona", because it is two syllables and easy to say, and it is pronounced the same in Japanese and English.

I know there are some people wanting updates, but the hospital does not have Internet. Made the trip back home today to check on the chickens, clean the house for baby's welcome home party (there will be a TV crew here), and bring Tomoe something edible. Apparently hospital food sucks in Japan too. I am lucky enough to be ineligible to eat it, so I always take a walk to the supermarket.

Since I don't have a lot of time (I still gotta cook up the placenta, but I only have a few hours to look up recipes), I will give the detailed run down in semi-bullet-point format, and is purposely long in order to discourage anyone who doesn't really care from wasting their time :).

Note:Some of the times after 11PM are probably a bit off.

Background: There is more to it than this, but this is the quick version. (and if you are looking for a more detailed background, well... there are other places dedicated to that. After all, this is the Internet.

• Several months ago. We express a rough "birth plan" to the hospital, explain that we want no drugs unless needed, we want to be with the baby at all times (it is normal for this hospital to take the baby for observation for 24 hours after birth), and various other things.
• A Few days Ago. The doctor finally sits down to meet with us, and is angry that we requested so much. He tells us that epsioctmy (I can never spell that right) is required. The baby will be taken for 20 minutes after birth and then for 24 hours, and the baby will be given supplements to compensate for Tomoe's potentially (no reason to believe that) poor quality milk, and antibiotics will be administered copiously. (my translation)
• The night the doctor told us this: Tomoe is on the phone frantically calling the nearest midwife birthing center (2 hours away) to see if it is too late to get a spot there. It is.

Fast-forward

• Morning of the 9th.
  TOMOE:"Ouch!" Ten minutes later "Ittattattaattaa" (Japanese for "ouch"). Ten minutes later. "Oooo".
  ME: This is every ten minutes. Are you sure these are not contractions?
  TOMOE: No it doesn't hurt so much, just a pinch. Everything I read said I wouldn't even be able to walk.
  ME: "OK. I trust you" (As I start shoveling, loading and packing the car.)
• Mid-morning / afternoon of 9th. Nothing.
• Around 11pm on 9th.
  TOMOE:"Ouch!" seven minutes later "Ittattattaattaa" (Japanese for "ouch"). 15 minutes later. "Oooo!". Six minutes later "MmmmmmmM!"
  ME: This is closer than ten minutes. Are you sure these are not contractions?
  TOMOE: No it doesn't hurt so much, just a pinch. Everything I read said I wouldn't even be able to walk.
  ME: "OK. I trust you. But lets call the hospital anyway." (As I start chugging coffee.)
• 1 AM on the 10th. We get in the frozen car with the "Da Yoopers" playing again and again in my head. (for those cultural illiterates out there, song, lyrics)
• 1:01 AM. The car starts fine. There is no fresh snow on the roads, and thankfully we only passed what seems like about 10 cars in the 45 minute drive.
• 45 Minutes later: Arrive at hospital and Tomoe is still smiling. We make our way through the dark corridors to the delivery room where Tomoe leisurely changes and lays on the table while chatting with the hospital midwife, while I am trying to reach the TV documentary camera-woman who, just hours before going to the hospital, we had just told "not for another week". She doesn't answer so I call her producer and wake him, asking him to keep trying her number.
• About 10 minutes later: Tomoe is writing in pain on the table. Contraction are now four minutes apart.
• I forget how long we were there now...
• At some point the TV woman (a friend of ours) and another friend from our village arrive. The hopes were that she could film the birth, but 1) the doctor is a grump. and 2) There is no more time between the contractions for me even to go out and talk to them, so they wait in the hall.
• At some point, the baby's heart rate drops drastically from 122 to 80. This is normal, as it is the most stressful time for her, but usually it goes back up much sooner, so Tomoe is given oxygen and told to breathe more deeply. She doesn't know how to. She wants to die.
• At some point the doctor arrives and is angry at the midwives for not having hooked Tomoe up to an IV and pumping her with antibiotics (they were following our request)
• The doctor puts on some gloves (don't remember if he even said hi to her) Starts pushing on her stomach, trying to squeeze the baby out like toothpaste.
• He says he is going to do an espicotmy. We ask him to wait. He miraculously agrees.
• A few minutes later. DOCTOR: "Your baby will die. I am cutting". (we have no reason to doubt him, but also he was angry at Tomoe for requesting a natural birth. We don't know if saying that was just a way to force us to agree - after all, who would respond with "That's fine" to a statement like "Your baby will die"?)
• He cuts. She is in pain. The friends are listening at the door with the camera's audio running, and the doctor is squeezing the toothpaste tube.
• At some point around 9 AM (I think): Black hair comes out and Tomoe wants to die.
• More black hair comes out and Tomoe wants to die more.
• A crying baby with an umbilical cord wrapped twice around her neck emerges. Tomoe no longer wants to die.
• I don't even remember the rest coming out.
• Tomoe gets a short time to hold the baby, and they take her (with me along) into the next room for a quick exam. maybe five minutes, maybe less.
• I carry baby back to Tomoe, and the camera-woman friend is allowed in, unfortunately Aunt Maiko (our neighbor friend) had to leave earlier to go to work). We sit and chat and get interviewed while the staff prepares our room. Since we insisted, and there is only one more baby in the hospital now, we are allowed to keep baby in the room that night, and she has not been out of our sight since.
• We are settled in the room, and Kemoe is sleeping, and I still have time to get home, print out some photos, and take them to the local festival that is happening that afternoon in our hamlet. As soon as I arrive home, everyone already knows that the baby is born because when our car was missing when he woke up at 4am, the news and speculation spread like wildfire.
• Aside from getting to give the news and show the photos to everyone in the hamlet at once (rather than go house to house), the timing was also fortunate because this is a Little New Year festival where things from the past year are burned, and the ashes are spread onto the faces of certain members of the village, including children born within the year as a wish/symbol of health. Kemoe just made the cut, so they spread ashes on the photo I printed of her, and then on me - they then got the camera woman who came to film it for the documentary.
• I went back to the hospital and spent a wonderful evening with my daughter and Tomoe. We were awake most of the night, of course, but I can't blame it all on Kemoe crying. She actually didn't cry much, but we just couldn't stop staring at her long enough to sleep.

Fast-forward To Day 2

• Tomoe is already giving milk since the day before - apparently extremely fast. It is not enough to satisfy Kemoe's appetite, but she has three day's worth of reserves, so the midwives allow us to *not* feed her supplements. On the afternoon of the second day, her boobs seemed to explode with so much milk that suddenly Kemoe was so satisfied that she was sleeping four hours in a row.
• Kemoe had her first bath. Despite the photo, she likes it.
• The TV woman and Aunt Maiko drop by for a "little" visit that lasted several hours, because they wanted to see/film Kemoe awake, but she was just so comfy...
• While we have had Ben Harper's The Three of US on repeat for most of the time, (long since my favorite Ben Harper song and the first one I learned to play on guitar - can't wait to play it for Kemoe live!) we also find out that she loves G-Love and the Special Sauce.

Fast-forward To Day 3

• Even with the hospital staff loudly coming into the room what seems like every few minutes to offer us tea, or something else completely unnecessary, Kemoe sleeps soundly at my side until past 9 am. Pretending I was asleep while the midwife sighs at the scene is my favorite moment yet.
• The midwives seem very happy that we are here. They all agree with and understand our desires regarding the birth, but hey have no power to change policy, and there are not many other patients to bring the issue up, or if they do, they back down quite easily. It seems that we have become a bit of a hot-topic in the staff meetings.
• Aside from above average breasts, Tomoe is also healing extremely well from the delivery. We successfully avoided being given any extra drugs or hormones to control the bleeding, believing that breast feeding would cause her body to supply what is needed, and she is recovering faster than most people. We may be "allowed" to leave a day early. But the truth is, despite the anxiety we had about the hospital the day before the birth, it is actually a really great place - except for the food, which is why...
• I am now at home cleaning up and preparing for the TV crew and Tomoe and Kemoe, writing this update, and getting some food from our fridge to give to Tomoe instead of the hospital food, including...
• The placenta. Everyone says it is gross, but it is actually not so unheard-of to eat the placenta. It helps stop the post-natal bleeding (which Tomoe's doesn't need to do anymore) and, more importantly from my standpoint, will help to lessen post-natal depression, and hopefully make it so that Tomoe is not mean to me. My sister-in-law sent me this funny and interesting link when she heard about our plans, but we will probably end up making lasagna or soup with it.
• It is getting late, and I want to research more recipes online before cooking it, but I also want to get back to Kemoe, so I am thinking about asking a neighbor if we can store the placenta in their freezer... I'll let you know how that works out...

Well, I gotta go now. Tomoe just called to remind me to bring the rice cooker, and I heard Kemoe in the background crying. I my daughter needs me.