Monday, October 06, 2014

Jazz Hands ... and the absurdities of documenting your child's birth in BDA.

So, a month ago, I gave birth to my third child.  Since we live here in Bermuda for the time being, it made sense to just deliver him here. 

First, the baby in question.

Look!  Jazz hands!!

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You know how easy it is to get a birth certificate when you deliver in a hospital in the US, right?  You pretty much leave the hospital on discharge with something in your hand.

Not here.

(We left with the baby, which is a good thing.)

Four weeks later, still no birth certificate. 

We did just get this form in the mail.  Blank for us to fill out - called "Notice of Particulars of Birth."

Take a look at it for a moment and tell me if you notice anything odd.

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First, it's not a birth certificate.

Ok - no big deal.  Presumably we fill out the info and mail it to the Registrar and hopefully one day have something I can take to the American Consulate.  I hope I will secure an approval of a Notice of an American Birth Overseas, which I will then use to get the boy a passport. 

In case he ever wants to get off the island...

BUT...

Keep looking at the form above ...

Apart from the fact that we have to declare our marital legitimacy so the child isn't legally a bastard, we also get to make up our own racial color of the child.

The best part?  Wait for it...

There's nowhere for the MOTHER to sign.

Get it?

THE.  MOTHER.

I carried the boy for 40 weeks in my body, gained 30 pounds, delivered him in a burst of pain and drug-free glory.. and my signature isn't necessary.

Damn.

Apparently I lack the legal capacity to verify the birth of my child.

Oh Bermuda. 

I love you, but it's true. 

It's a whole other world over here.

ps - we debated for two days what the "racial color of the child" was.  Jeff dared me to put down any other race that would guarantee him an affirmative action boost for college application processes 18 years from now.  I told him it wouldn't matter by then since everyone will be brown like me by that point.

Such is what passes for levity in this house when no one gets any sleep.

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