She’s Having a Baby (In France)!
It’s been toooo long since my last post, and mainly that’s because so much has happened that beginning to address the changes in my life is a daunting task. But, I’m finally biting the bullet, ready to update with the big news:
18 weeks
WE’RE HAVING A BÉBÉ!!!
At the beginning of May Mister Papa, Mister Cooper and I set out for an adventure in Portugal. Aside from being one of the best vacation settings ever, Portugal is also the magical land where we found out we were going to be parents!
Sun-soaked Lisbon!
Once we returned to France and quotidian responsibilities, though, our initial elation lost its brilliant sheen. And we suffered a few days of “What the F&@! - we can’t have a baby in France!!!!” The prospect of figuring out all of the administrative and practical aspects of having a baby is scary enough, but doing all this in another language (one in which we’re not fluent at all!) and in a country where we’re still trying to figure out how to do simple things like deposit checks at the bank - well, we were beyond terrified. But, after examining all possibilities we realized we didn’t have much of a choice! This baby is coming and here we are - in France. What follows is my mini-guide to being “enceinte” as they say, in France so far (if you’re interested. If not, feel free to skip to the picture at the end).
Task #1: Verifying the pregnancy with a real doctor.
As if 5 pregnancy tests weren’t proof enough, I needed some kind of official declaration from a doctor for me to believe that this was actually, in fact, happening. I mean, I was of course happy (and stressed and freaked), but there was a feeling of disbelief that I just couldn’t shake. This feeling was understandable as I had just been told in April that we’d have a hard time conceiving! (If anyone other than a gynecologist, after several hormonal analyses, tells you you’ll have trouble due to ovarian cysts- don’t believe them, ladies! I know this is TMI, but I know several women in my same situation.)
So, I set out trying to make an appointment with an English-speaking obstetrician in Paris. I started by simply googling “English-speaking Drs in Paris.” And then I went down the list, starting with doctors in close proximity to my flat and moving outward as I received response after response like this: “How do you know of Dr. so-and-so. From what kind of list?! Well then, we don’t have any appointments until July.” Finally, I accepted a July appointment (I would be 13 weeks by then!) and called my regular doctor.
I found my GP the same way back in November, but somehow had then managed to hijack a list issued by the PTA of the International School of Paris, with personal reviews of each Dr. I seriously just chose my GP because he was the first person to give me an appointment last fall. And so my adventure in French health care began. At any rate, I got really lucky in choosing him because he’s a fantastic doctor, always gets me in to see him the next day, if not the same day, and is super nice. So, I made a same-day appointment with him and HE called his obstetrician friend, asked if he’d be willing to take me on as a patient, warned him that my French isn’t great and I prefer to speak English, and made the appointment for me! Amazing! My Dr told me that without a referral it can take a very long time to get in to see an obstetrician in Paris. So, the next day I canceled that silly July appointment and off I went to meet my obstetrician.
Task #2: Meeting the obstetrician
He shook my hand and took me to his little office - typically parisian with an old fireplace, beautiful molding and ancient parquet floors - complete with examination table and ultrasound machine. After introductions, up I hopped onto the table and he showed me the pregnancy at 6 weeks - just a little button in a big uterine pond. He gave me the estimated due date, sent me to get a slew of blood tests, and told me to come back in a few weeks. And that was that!
Oh, and by the way, all of these accoutrements that give us a false sense of privacy in American hospitals (ie them leaving the room while you undress, then throwing paper blankets over your lap at the obgyn’s office and radiologists) DO NOT exist in France. So it’s just like, take your pants off (my dr at least has a paper screen, i’ve been to a radiologist that just asked me to undress in the middle of the room while he was on the phone), and get up there! At first it was uncomfortable for me, since it’s just so different. But, now I don’t give a hoot. Always I’m just excited to see the little ultrasonic Tadpole swimming around in his temporary home!
Task #3: The official declaration
One of the first things I did after verifying that yes, I was indeed mommy to a tiny Tadpole, was to go out and buy a French pregnancy book. Mister Cooper and I figured that this way we’d learn how things worked in the French medical system, we’d have dos and don’ts specific to France and we’d learn French childbirth vocabulary. The one I chose, J’attends un enfant, has a great month-by-month chart telling you all the things you need to accomplish at each stage. I learned from this that one has to report the pregnancy to several government agencies - yikes!
So at my next appointment, Dr. Baby filled out a nice form and told me it’s my job to send it all in by such-and-such date. Well, for me this was kind of an insane process because I didn’t yet have my French health card- the sacred Carte Vitale. It’s like the holy grail of expat living. I had applied for it back in November and, not a moment too soon, I finally received a response THAT WEEK (early June). With Carte Vitale in hand I filled out the requisite forms, sending one to the hautes-de-seine CPAM office (social security) and one to our town’s “allocation familiale” office (i think it’s like a child support office, but providing small subsidies even to middle-class families). Well, one of the forms I received back (don’t remember which) with the instructions to provide tax info, copies of ID’s, bank info, my left ear, a cheek swab and a lock of my hair. Okay, the last three weren’t really required, but the point is, don’t ever throw a piece of paper away when you live in France. You have to be able to send every paper documenting your existence at a moment’s notice.
I guess it all worked out in the end, because this week I got a piece of paper saying we might actually be entitled to some money and they’ll let me know in the 7th month! Plus, the last time I went to get blood tests I wasn’t charged a damn thing!
In France, when you’re pregnant, your health care charges should be minimal. There are different levels of doctors and you can find what level your doctor is and how much the dr. usually charges at http://ameli-direct.ameli.fr/. My doctors are both private practitioners and so are free to charge what they want (my GP is 30 euros per visit and my obgyn is 80-100 euros, including ultrasound) and they don’t process your Carte Vitale discount directly. Instead, they fill out a Feuille de Soins stating what they did and what they charged, and you have to send it in to social security office yourself. Social security will then reimburse you.
If you’re like me, and you’re on a visitor visa grâce à your mister (ie you can’t work in France) your personal ssn isn’t active. So when you fill out your Feuille de Soins all you put is your name and your birth date. Under Assuré (Insured party) you put your husband’s name, his numéro d’immatriculation (ssn - the # on his carte vitale), and his address (which is probably yours, too). He’s the one that has to sign it at the bottom, not you. I learned this the hard way - I’ve suffered many a rejected Feuille de Soins and now have to annoy my dr by asking for duplicates.
Okay - that’s enough for now! Hope this is helpful to some hapless expat googlers trying to figure all this out, too! Task #4: choosing your maternité to come soon.
11 weeks
And Now For Something Completely Different (miscellany) vacances!
by marya
1 comment
come on and raise up
hey - in north carolina for a few weeks (sister’s wedding) - be back soon!
boats and pebbles and moules
Dustin surprised me with a trip to Normandie this last weekend. All he told me was “be packed by two” and away we went! Only two hours north of Paris, it’s different world, slower, moving at the pace of the white cows that we passed on the road.
some favorite things: camembert flavored ice cream(!!! seriously yummy), moules + frites with mariniere sauce (white wine and parsley), the cluttered lines of ships’ masts against a backdrop of wood-shingled buildings, organic baked camembert, pebbly beaches and my love all to myself without the pull of work to distract.
my mister did good, lovely and amazing.
