Midwife found! Code Test Results! Me, 7 months pregnant.

Well, Alright!  Hot damn!  The last few weeks have been a hazy stressful blur of dealing with the Frenchness of it all, but seems some hurdles have been overcome!  Sooo, since I last blogged, progress on the important stuff:


   We found a midwife!  At long last we have met a woman whom is cool and speaks English.  Sadly, she is not yet comfortable doing homebirths - which I am incredibly bummed about but I think it will still be fine.  Her name is Anne and she is new to the Groupe Naissance, the same people - who requested that I have the "debriefing" before being allowed to reuse their services.  Whatev.  I jumped through the hoop and after calling every single person mentioned to me from ANPA and other referrals through more phone calls and lots of dead ends, another midwife told me about Anne, who just happened to be at GN.  So, it turns out I was right to go to that meeting.

   I like her.  And that is all.

The French love medicine.

Oh, well of course not.  She seemed to like me too, which you might be astonished to learn that that feeling of being liked (appreciated, interested in) does not usually come across very well from folks in the health field.  You generally are made to feel like you are wasting their precious time and how dare you attempt to dig deeper and gain sacred information regarding your own health.  Just take the pill and shut the hell up - cuz they know things that you don't.  And they really, really don't like being questioned.

This contrasts the American experience, where you are advised to bring a list of questions to your medical checkups.  Of course, the caring and relationship based American experience can (and often does) put a person into financial crisis and can also result in many tests than are really needed.

So, the trick here is to keep up the search for someone you like and ALWAYS go back to them even if it takes a while to get an appointment.  We have a really cool family doctor guy who offers walk-ins several times a week (along with appointments and yes, house calls!) 

You can't let desperation guide health care provider decisions in France.  And so, I called as many midwives as I heard about, no matter what.  And finally, found Anne and *bonus* she is an ostheopath so that is really a great combo for me personally.  Another piece of great news is that the place where Sabine was born has closed (went bankrupt) and now the Groupe will be delivering babies in a different clinic (named Joan of Arc) which offers the same resources (bath tub, balls, etc). 

AND... we have started taking Hypnobirthing classes, with just about one of the loveliest humans I have even had the good fortune of meeting.  We already had one session with her and it was incredibly productive and interesting.  It also brought this pregnancy a bit more on our mental and emotional forefront.  As most of the pregnancy related attention has gone to logistics, this is a great step in the right direction.  Hey better late than never, right?  Anyway, we have our second session with Elizabeth on Tuesday.  I will provide more about that afterwards.


And for the horrific driving code (French driving theory and rules), which practically consumed my soul as I studied harder for it than any test in my life, I PASSED!!!!  Sadly, the school I went through are trying to sweep me away for a couple more months as they have overbooked themselves regarding on-road driving lessons (8 hours mandatory) which leads to the driving test itself.  They are expecting me to WAIT until Sept.  Now, I get it, I really do - they have no concept of what my life will be like in Sept.  Either: a) about to give birth or b) just having given birth and ergo being a on-demand feeding machine for several months.  I don't care.  So, we don't care about each other and I am going in on Monday to demand action.  I will keep you abreast with my progress (ha ha, punster!).

NOT Hicham on the left.

In the meantime, I am driving with Hicham to get more comfortable driving on the French roads.  This isn't going very well because he is constantly nagging  and stresses me out more than he should.  "Blinker!" "Watch out!" "You scraped the tire!" "Shift!" "You're sticking out too far!" Blah blah blah!  The reality is that French roads - or at least - Parisian roads have traffic coming from all directions all the time and so it is stressful enough without his yelling at me.  That, and with motorcycles zooming around you, the oddly placed stoplights, etc etc etc - driving here takes some getting used to.  Well, that is all it is, getting used to it.  Just more practice and handling of the merging lanes, rude drivers, small roads, etc. all will be well. 

And finally, per your request, here are some photos of me.  We took these yesterday, so they are current.  We also took them under the influence of Madonna.  Sabine and I were dancing and having some fun and I took the photos with my computer.  So, without further adieu, me seven months pregnant:

Location, locomotion, location

It has been 12 completely crazed and largely emotional days since I last posted.  Since this blog is largely a tool of creation for MY own happiness - and it has been neglected, well, that tells you something!

First, even though I will be giving birth in less than 3 months, I still do not know where or with whom.  This journey has been incredibly anxiety inducing.  It has now led me down the path of just doing it at home.  The more I sat with this, the more it made sense.   Then began finding a midwife who delivers at home search.  I was completely unsurprised to find out that my options were very few and far between.  This is both due to the lateness of my pregnancy and that the French system doesn't support homebirths ... at all.  Luckily I joined a really helpful group called ANPA, Anglophone Natural Parenting Association.  This community of mothers has been imperative to this journey and would highly recommend any natural-parent leaning person join.  ANPA link

Second, French driving school, is just a little slice of hell on earth.  Exhausting, confounding and completely setting you up to fail, partaking in this process now makes me wonder if I am a glutton for punishment.  Yesterday, however I did drive around with Hicham.  While the many bizarre intersections were just that and the road signs did confuse me on occasion, I handled most situations well.  It seems to take most people about 6 months to get their license in France, I feel it necessary to do within TWO (before the baby is born!)  I start driving with the instructor on Tuesday (have to do 8 hours).  More on that soon.

Third, we got sidetracked-once again in our housing situation.  Even though we have made the great use of our 800 sq ft apartment to make our lives fit into this box, we still get urges to move into something bigger.  Of course, it isn't only about size, it is also about wanting to have easier access to nature.  One reason we moved to this apartment was because we are near the forest of Boulogne, the enormous parc de Saint Cloud, the river and a variety of other green spaces but still opening the door to ones' own plot of Earth beckons me. 

Is this the right time to do be driving around looking at houses?  No.  Particularly when you consider that Sabine's education must be taken into consideration when we think about WHERE we will live.  So, then the house hunt becomes combo school research/city study.  I guess, in a sick way, it is an occassional form of leisure for us.  We look at the ads, the houses, google maps, carve out commutes, consider shopping etc.  I guess it is not much different from people who play simcity or other reality type video games.  Imagining your life being lived in a different setting than it really is. 

Rarely does this exploration lead us beyond the computer, but once and a while, we do go through the hassle of going and looking at a place.  This is always because there is something so incredibly unique about the property, that even if we don't buy it, we will have still gotten to see it with our own eyes.  I guess you could call it "House Hunters, Foreign Edition Live". 

For example, once we went to see a house that had so many cool things going on, I was sure it was "the one".  Giant stone fire place, built in timber lofts in the bedrooms with cool ladders creating cozy nooks, a round stone wall kitchen, an extra underground stone room, bay windows, enormous trees, hello?  When we went to see the house, it was incredibly unique.  Sadly, it was in front of a really busy road and more importantly, the cool kitchen was below the house.  Can you imagine having to carry dinner for four people upstairs every single night?  AND, they were slippery, steep, well worn stone step!  Embarrassingly, it actually took me until we got to the last upstairs bedroom to really see the ramifications of that!   

This weekend, we went to see a house that was located on an island... with no car access.  I was thrilled!  Living on an island that didn't allow cars is like a dream to me.  Even though I want to be able to drive in France, the chance of not having to listen to the constant stream of cars sounds really heavenly.  The island is accessible by a small foot bridge which people use all kinds of contraptions to get their groceries over with.  Electric golf carts (small French versions) with trailers attached would fit.  Across the bridge you will find rows of garages where the residents keep their cars.  The entire island was incredibly lush and natural, with one large path going down the length of it and houses on each side.  The house that we looked at was asking 465,000 euros.  Their asking price a year ago was nearly double that.

The property was large, with several extra small buildings, a studio, an above ground pool, patios, a 1400 sq ft house, a woodshop, underground storage room, tons of trees and of course all of this enclosed in bushes, greenery and the gorgeous river.  A nature lovers paradise, right near Paris.  I think we were really interested, for real, until we saw the upstairs of the house.  The downstairs left some stuff to be desired, but it was the upstairs that made me almost retch.    Every square inch of the upstairs was so irritating that the amount of money, time and energy to change it simply made me want to run away fast.  The house was built in three stages, much to my surprise (and yet not) the upstairs was the most recent.  And it was done on the cheapy, cheap.  Carpet on the creaking (1995!) floor, weird shaped rooms with odd angles making me dizzy, a giant mirrored closet IN the bathroom, no closets in two of the 80's wallpapered pastel rooms, the master bedroom barely fitting our bed but with an attached bathroom with both a shower and a tub all tiled in dark blue and bright white.  Need I go on?  Okay, they not only closed the wonderful fireplace from down stairs, but removed it because they couldn't make it work with the "new" upstairs, the oven in the kitchen was mini, the counters were sized for hobbits, the living room was lime green and as is the norm for the French, the dining area was far from the kitchen.  Why?

We told the agent, lovely man from Argentina, to please let us know if another house goes up for sale on the island, because we are interested in living there - but that house?  At that price?  Yeah, no thanks.

So, there are just two more places we will look at in the coming week and then we will have itched that scratch for a while.  It usually comes up about every 6 months.  Not to say that we aren't content in our cozy apt, it is just that we have been here for over three years!  I have never lived anywhere for this long, ever!  It is also ironic, that it was only recently that I painted the living room....

But well, sometimes you just gotta look at what else is out there to realize how good you got it, am I right?  

To end this entry on a cute note, here is Sabine washing carrots:

Update on the midwife meeting (dun dun dun dun!)

Aaah, life in France.  What magic, what wonder!  By that I mean: I wonder what they will pull out of bag of tricks next.  By "they" I mean, ALL French people, all the time.  No, just kidding.  But since I have just returned from the states, the contrast in culture is all that much more stark.  Soon, probably, as the memories fade - and as I grow again accustomed to just how difficult life can be made at nearly turn - I will become comfortably numb to it all.

But til then, allow me to update you with the result of my  previously mentioned "debriefing" with my former midwife, the midwife who broke confidentiality with me as I shared with her my previous birth experience during an interview and the psychologist who was to determine if I was still very upset by Sabine's birth and therefore not acceptable to return to their services.  Funnily, when I had told midwife #2 whom we will call by her name, Muriel, that I wanted something different than I had will midwife #1, Willy, she strongly urged me to find somewhere else to go.

What continues to amaze me is that there appear to be about five or so midwives in this giant city who actually speak English.  Okay, there are probably some in the American Hospital or the British Hospital, but they are both incredibly expensive and you are not "followed" by the midwife, meaning that the person who is in the room with you as the baby is born could be a complete stranger.  They also don't take Social Medical card soooo, not an option anyway.  I told Muriel, that there really was NO where else for me to go that would provide a less-medical model style of birth.  They don't have cozy birthing centers like in the states.  There is ONE that is close, but still the birthing is done usually in the hospital after laboring in a lovely room.  I mentioned it in a previous blog and while it is great, no speaka the English.

Anyhoot, the meeting went well.  Even though, it was held against my wishes and if I didn't go then I was out,  the meeting did go well. Nor would I say it was worth MY time, per say, as the rendezvous was done at the urging of "the team" to ensure that there was peace between myself and Willy.  But to put the team's mind at rest that there wasn't a raging (and ranting) woman dragging Groupe Naissance name through the mud, I went.  And I found that I felt much more understood at the end (always feels good to be understood) and I felt more compassion towards Willy. 

I highlighted how I felt completely under-prepared for the birth, though I was led to believe that I was prepared.  How Willy's style of complete non-nonchalance when I didn't know what to do but was scared was incompatible with what I want for the next time.  We talked about how tense my muscles became and basically left the meeting with the clear understanding that for the next birth, I intend to get to the bottom of these issues and hopefully not repeat them.  I was reading in my "HypnoBirthing" book that "fear is the cause of tension within the body, in particular the uterus" p4.

For Sabine's birth, at Willy's strong urging, we did not read or become informed about birthing, breathing, techniques or even how to use the birthing ball.  He was of the mind that the body just knows what to do.  I actually totally agree with him, that the body was designed to birth a baby without medical intervention (in most cases) and that given the time, space and respect the mother can deliver a baby without her having a medical degree.

But, for me, what was missing was the basic idea of what was happening and what was going to happen.  I was also not told that things that were worrisome were normal and fine.  Being that vulnerable and frightened just made everything tense up.  I am not even talking about the labor, which I got through fine with music and my breath.  That part, I had a handle on.  But when the urge to poop was overwhelming, I had no knowledge that that was the push the baby out urge and so, not wanting to poop on the floor, I resisted.  No one told me at that time.   

I am only now learning about HOW to give birth.  Because hot-damn, there are helpful tips out there!  As of yet, however, I still do not know where I will give birth nor who my midwife will be.  But even if we do end up going to the nearby hospital, I will be more equipped to extract our daughter confidently and without fear.  (Who knew breathing like blowing a balloon helps?)

Because it wasn't the labor pain, which was without excess pain.  I found the pain tolerable with Libana's singing lulling the pain like the ocean washing up on the shore- and gushing back and washing up and gushing back.  It was invigorating and cosmic .... right upon until the harsh change of room, hallway, elevator, medical bed, fear, confusion, tension, variety of ineffective change of positions each one more painful than the last (the change of position), the incorrect breathing, no more music, no more candles, just commands to PUSH for three hours.



Ah well, I am thrilled that I get a do-over on this one.  Worth mentioning that this HypnoBirthing book by Marie F Mongan is really great and I would highly recommend it to anyone who is pregnant.  In about three months, I will let you know how it worked!

Pictures of our incredible journey coming up, really, I promise!  I have been busy unpacking and organizing.  Don't believe me? Take a look at how Sabine's (+new baby) room has transformed:

Those drawers on the left will hold Sabine's clothes soon.

This changing table will start being used again, heavy sigh.

We needed new book shelves (left) thanks to all the wonderful new books!  Thanks to Joan for some of the really special ones :)

Got more vertical storage, got rid of some clutter and decided how to resolve the bed situation.  When the new baby is ready for her own bed, she will take Sabine's crib and Sabine will sleep on a trundle mattress kept under the crib.  I pondered the idea of getting an elevated bed, but decided to keep it simple for the moment.  Who knows, we will hopefully be moving next summer. 

So, almost entirely ready for the baby!  Now, focus on the French driver's license!

Post Vacation Entry. What a trip!

Alright well!  Home again, home again la tee dee dah!  We are back from our whirl-wind 5-state, 6 week tour of the USA and what a trip it was.

Coming home and the resulting peculiar feeling also deserves mention.  When I walked in the door and saw our apt, I felt like I was walking through a dream that I had awakened from.  Like,"this place still exists?"  Strange but true.  Unlike any other "homecoming" than I have ever experienced.  You know, the kind where you just are eager to sit on your own couch again, drink coffee in your own cup again, water your plants and settle back in?  Yeah, not so much.

I guess because I felt so much more globally at home in the States.  Not just the language either, but a real sense of comfortable anywhere I was.  The return to our apt was as if we had been away for so long that while it did seem familiar somehow, it also didn't.

Also, my mind is yet clinging to all the wonderful visits, experiences, sights, tastes, encounters, deals and connections all that made up the last six weeks of life .... I am still mentally "there" - in the land of friendly smiles, clean streets and Whole Food's salad bars.  

Yet, in any case, I am physically back in Paris and I am rejuvenated, fulfilled and inspired.  Wonder how long it will take for the French disposition to smear that smile off my face.  Probably in a matter of days when a group of local midwives and their psychologist analyze my mental health state - which has become a requirement due to my honest assessment of one of their team members: my former midwife who did a shitty job two years ago.   

More on that sooner than later (meeting in about 5 days).... and  I have enough juicy stuff to blog about that occurred in the last six weeks for some riveting reading or at least photo gazing.  I am thrilled and excited to revisit them too.  A preview: Renting an RV in Colorado, Children's new & improved (and incredible) playgrounds now in every corner of the country, My beautiful friends and my wonderful family, Utah!, Sabine!, Food and sights pictures, and so much more. 

Much more to come, check back soon!