Next step is to register the birth in our respective countries.
Today, armed with all the documents and helped by my parents, we went to the French embassy.
It was the first time going out with Oskar and this required a bit of preparation. Luckily his morning feeding time allowed us a three hour window to go there and come back. While the little one was sleeping we prepared everything needed. In case you wonder, I had not yet prepared the diaper bag because I thought I would have the time this week before delivering. Anyhow, the essentials were collected. I got dressed. I called a taxi. I grabbed Oskar and we secured him in the car seat. He is so small that it's a bit hard to install him nicely but safety first.
Taxi ride was smooth as Oskar slept all the way. Taxi driver didn't know where it was and the GPS was confused as well. Anyhow we made it.
Little guy was sleeping nicely while we waited. I had confirmation that the picture for the passport was ok. Pity I didn't have it with me as I could have done the passport request directly. Had we known... But again as they are so picky on pictures if I had come with one it would not have been right. Murphy's law...
Soon enough it was my turn. I went in the office of the officer to register the birth. I left Oskar with my parents.
Of course they needed a copy of the passport of Wolfram which I didn't have and was not mentioned on the website. But for once French administration was organized. There was a computer and a printer. With the file in my email I could get it printed on the spot. So efficient.
It took quite a bit if time to fill in everything and check twice everything (names, date, location, etc) before the official document was printed and copies were handed to me.
Oskar is now officially recognized and a French citizen :)
Of course in the meantime Oskar woke up. Funny enough there was another baby in the waiting area. When that one started to cry the officer asked me whether it was mine. I said no. I could tell it was not Oskar based on the crying sound. Later on, another baby was crying. This time it was mine. Seems after four days, I can distinguish between baby crying sounds. Never though I could.
The officer offered to accelerate a bit so I could get to my son quickly. Luckily we had brought some food so my mum gave him something.
From there is was one long cry: leaving the embassy, in the taxi, getting home. Until I could feed him. Gee, that was torture to hear.
Yet the two of us made it home. I gave him good, I changed him, I put him to sleep. Relieved :)
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