The Raymonds in Bordeaux

Good-bye 2011. Part 2.

2011-12-30T17:07:00.003+01:00

Photo highlights of 2011 from the Raymond family.

Here's to a happy and healthy 2012 filled with laughter and love!

Good-bye 2011. Part 1.

2011-12-30T11:24:00.003+01:00

I feel like I am constantly apologizing for not posting more regularly. I'll be 35 in a week and maybe age will bring time management skills so I will make more time to write. One can only hope. :)

Wow! I can't believe that 2011 is almost over! It feels like it went by faster than usual. Must be the sleep deprivation! But, seriously, we have had so many things to be grateful for this past year. Zack is a beautiful, happy, and energetic new addition to the family. Owen is a smart, funny, creative soul and settling into the routine of school and even speaking a bit of French. It has been truly amazing (though often exhausting!) watching them grow and I look forward to seeing what 2012 has in store for us.

In 2011, we lost Sean's grandmother. Her name was Rita but she was known to her family as Mim.

Mim and Sean, Nov 1977

Mim and Sean, June 2002

Mim, Sean, and Owen, May 2009

We went to Massachusetts in October to celebrate Mim's life. It was so special to be together in Williamstown with the entire Raymond clan. As you can see, it was quite a multigenerational turnout. We hope to all get together again soon!

La Rentree (The Return)

2011-09-20T16:38:00.000+02:00

It has been three weeks now since "la rentrée". That time of year when all the French return from their month-long vacations and school starts again. This year was different for us in two major ways: 1) because of the new baby, we hung around town and did not partake in the August exodus. And 2) Owen joined the ranks of the school children who flooded the streets, backpacks in hand, on September 5th with a mixture of excitement and trepidation.

Owen started in the PS-MS class at Ecole Maternelle Leon Blum in Floirac. Ecole Maternelle is the French equivalent of preschool and is attended to by nearly kids in France starting at age 3. "PS" stands for "petit section", the littlest kids, who were born in 2008. Since Owen is a New Years baby, he was placed in PS-MS (petit section/moyen section), which is a mixture of the oldest 3 year olds and the youngest of the 4 year olds. There are 25 kids in Owen's class. The interesting thing about the first day of school in France is that you do not receive any information about school prior to that first day. Including, which day is the first day. You see, in Ecole Maternelle, there are 2 start days - Monday or Tuesday - so that the kids (and probably the teachers too) are not so overwhelmed by the new class and new classmates. So, all we knew was that Owen was supposed to start school on one of these days. So Sean called the directrice the week before and was told that Owen should be there on Monday. But that was all we knew. Not which class he was in, not where the classroom was. Nothing. And that made my own anxieties about that day even more extreme because how do you prepare your child for that separation when you can't give them more information other than, "On Monday you're going to go to big boy school"?

But the first day went off pretty well. A sign posted by the entrance gate to the school listed the kids by classroom. So, at 8:25am, the four of us walked to the school and learned that Owen was going to be in the PS/MS class and that the teacher's name was Maryse. Then we found his classroom through the "sheep method" of following everyone else. Along the hallway of the school, were coat hangers with kids names taped above them. We found Owen's name about halfway down the long hallway and, thus, found his classroom. Owen was so proud when he saw his name and he hung his backpack on the hook and took off his shoes like the other kids. Then we went inside the classroom and, right away, Owen's cardar (that is, his radar for any car toy) kicked in and he was off. Sean and I signed him in with the teacher and said goodbye. No tears from Owen. Plenty from me (though I managed to hold them in until we were outside).

French school goes from 8:30-11:30 then 1:30-4:30. During the 2 hours lunch break, the kids can either go home or they can stay at the school and eat in the cantine. The first morning, Owen only stayed until the lunch break at 11:30. Our plan had been that Owen would only go in the mornings until he was adjusted and then, around November or so, would start going full days. But since things went so well on that Monday, we decided that on Thursday (the other half of his class started on Tuesday and then French schools are closed on Wedsnesdays so Owen only had 3 days of school that first week), Owen would start going full days. This will help Owen pick up the language faster and make friends more quickly, we believe. Plus, we hope that by eating in the cantine 4 days a week, Owen will start eating more variety of foods (the rule is that the kids have to take one bite of everything at the cantine).

So, fingers crossed!

French healthcare experience #5: Re-education

2011-08-22T11:48:00.006+02:00

One major difference between post-partum care in the US and France has been the post-partum care for my lady parts. Note: while I tried not to be too graphic with this post, there are somethings I couldn't help so read with caution if you are sensitive to these kinds of things. And, no, there are no pictures.

Starting during my pregnancy, several of my friends told me that the French are quite interested in making sure women get their parts back in shape after birth. And the way they do this is through "re-education" therapy (yes, that it actually what it is called). Jokingly, my friends said it was because of the French obsession with beauty and sex. And, in fact, the mid-wives at the hospital told me that it would be ok to resume sex as soon as the stitches healed - in about 2 weeks - but that I should not do cardiovascular exercise until after finishing my re-education. Which is definitely different than the medical advice I got in the US which said to wait at least 6-weeks before doing either. As for the official reasoning I was given behind re-educations, the doctors and midwives told me it's to prevent incontinence. Either way, both sounded like good reasons. But, oh boy, I knew this was going to be an experience.

Re-education is basically electro-stimulation therapy for your vaginal muscles. When I saw my OB for my 6-week post-partum appointment, she even said, "the stitches healed nicely, now lets get you a prescription for the re-education. And you will want to start that soon." Maybe I should have vajazzled before going in to see her. She made me feel a bit self-conscious (more self-conscious then usual, anyway). So, my first session was last week with my mid-wife, 9-weeks post-partum. For twenty minutes, I was made to lay down on an exam table with a vibrator-like instrument inserted between my legs that is then attached by wire to a computer. I was given a prescription for the thing so it is mine to carry around with me to and from the mid-wife's office for each of the 10 sessions that I was prescribed.

If anyone has ever had electro-stim therapy as part of rehab for an injury, you can imagine what this is like. Once the contraption is hooked up to the computer, the mid-wife starts one of several different programs of electric impulses. The programs vary on intensity and duration of the pulses. The purpose being to cause the muscles to contract and, therefore, strengthen. And all of this with both kids in the room. Owen was eating his snack and playing with cars. Zack was nursing during the first session and hanging out in his carseat during the second, smiling at me as I made faces with each shock. Let me state for the record, I have now had 2 sessions and I would not call this an enjoyable experience. In fact, I would actually describe the second session as painful. And 4 days later, I am still a bit sore. But, since I am not the most dedicated kegel-ist and the alternative, according to my mid-wife, is that I risk peeing my pants every time I sneeze, I will continue the rest of my sessions.

One funny thing was that my mid-wife seemed genuinely shocked that they don't do this therapy in the US. And, she seemed sort of proud that the French were "more advanced" than the Americans in taking care of women after childbirth. I do have to say that this is just another example that I have come across of the French being much more supportive of preventive care and, especially, in regards to women's health. Which sort of amazes me given how paternalistic French society still is.

2 months old!

2011-08-15T11:46:00.002+02:00

August 14, 2011

Growth parameters measured on August 10:
weight: 4,390kg (9lbs, 10oz)
height: 56cm (22 inches)
head circumference: 39cm (15.4 inches)

French Healthcare Experience #4: Vaccines

2011-08-15T10:50:00.001+02:00

Zachary is now 2 months old! So, hard to believe. In addition to the developmental milestones that this age brings - smiles, coos, a little more head control - this is also the age for his first set of shots. And so, with a little bit of hesitation, I brought him to the doctor (Owen came along too as Sean was at work) last week for his shots.

Now, the first thing to know about getting vaccines in France is that you have to bring the meds to the doctor's office yourself. So, before the day of the appointment, you must get a prescription for the vaccines and go pick them up at the pharmacy. Since pharmacy's may run out of their supplies, it is always recommended to go several days in advance. So, for the past week we have had the vaccines in our refrigerator - a reminder each time we would go get some food of the upcoming event.

The other thing to know is that drugs are significantly cheaper in France than in the US. On average, our co-pay is less than 1 euro for our drugs and the total cost of the drugs themselves have never been over 20 euros as far as I can remember. This is for drugs such as antibiotics, pain meds (the tylenol and advil equivalents for kids are by prescription only here), cough syrups, etc. So, we were a bit surprised to see that the cost of the vaccines was over 100 euros though it was completely covered by our insurance.

But, other than that, the appointment was very similar to those we had in the US. Since August is the month of vacations in France, our appointment for Zack's 2 month well-child check was with the substitute doctor and not our regular physician. In France, substitute doctor (medecin remplaçant) is a profession, like substitute teachers. At our last appointment with our PCP, she assured me that her replacement this time was wonderful so I wasn't too concerned when I got to the office. Of course, I'm always a little anxious about seeing a new professional because of the language issue. I'm always a bit insecure about whether I will understand let alone be understood. But, in general, this physician was fine. She answered my questions with patience and even made a little small talk as she was preparing the needles (Zack had 2 shots). And, much to my surprise, despite her coldish demeanor towards Owen (who, after waiting for an hour at this point wanting me to play with him and was interrupting my conversation with the doctor to ask me questions), she even patted Zachary on the back a few times after I picked him up following the shots and offered a few words of reassurance to him, "C'est tout. C'est fini. Ça va." (That's all. It's finished. You're ok.)

For those interested to know, the vaccines are mostly but not entirely the same regimen as in the US. For children at risk, they give a vaccine for tuberculous at birth along with Hepatitis B. I'm positive that Zack did not get tuberculosis because I remember having a conversation with the sage-femme about it but I can't remember whether he had Hep B. The vaccines that Zachary got at 2 months are known in France as Prevenar 13 (for pneumonococcus) and Infanrix hexa (covers diptheria, polio, tetanus, Hib, pertussis, and Hep B) which I think is primarily the same as in the US though I remember in the US that Owen was also rotavirus too. Another difference is that here, as I handed over my check and carte vitale (health insurance card) to the doctor for payment, she handed me back a prescription for the next round of shots - to be given in 1 month. This surprised me because in the US shots are normally given in 2 month intervals. But, as I am repeatedly reminded, we are NOT in the US anymore.

Funny faces

2011-08-11T16:38:00.007+02:00

Zachary is a smiling machine (when he isn't crying, that is). But it's his other faces that make us laugh. Such beauties include these faces seen from August 5th:

And these:

And, of course, Zachary's smiles are precious:

Zachary's first photo shoot

2011-08-04T11:38:00.007+02:00

One thing that the French and US cultures both seem to share is the desire to feed upon the bleeding hearts of new parents. Baby products are expensive and abundant (though the French government pays out mother's money prior to the delivery to help subsidize your costs of setting up a nursery and monthly mother's money until the child is 3 years old to help pay for diapers and formula).

But I digress. In anycase, we learned within hours of Zachary's birth that regardless of whether you are recovering in a maternity ward in Boulder or Bordeaux, one of the first visitors you will receive is a photographer who offers to take pictures of the newborn and then tries to sell you a package of photos for an exorbitant cost. And, of course, between the sleep deprivation and the hormones, you give in and buy some.

So, without further ado, here are some of my favs from Zachary's first photo shoot, taken on June 15.

This one isn't a great angle but it's the only one of the three of us.
I am really sad that there are no professional photos of Owen and Zachary (since Owen wasn't at the hospital with us) but we have certainly made up for that with candid shots. :)

Family resemblance

2011-07-31T18:37:00.002+02:00

Zachary really does look like his big brother as a newborn. We scanned through Owen's baby photos and found a few examples. Can you tell which boy is which?

And here they are both wearing daddy's favorite outfit.

Happy Birthday Daddy!!

2011-07-21T13:21:00.003+02:00

Today is Sean's birthday! I have become a bit obsessive the past few days trying to create a Raymond family Smilebox. I finished it late last night so, in honor of Sean turning 34 years and Zachary turning 1 month and 1 week, here is my Smilebox creation:

Photo album made with Smilebox

1 month old!

2011-07-15T16:42:00.008+02:00

Hard to believe that Zachary is already 1 month old! He is a feeding machine, having gained over a pound since birth, and is starting to be much more alert and even giving a few smiles.

He's also a decent sleeper though, par for the course, his developmental gains also mean that it is easier for him to get over-stimulated which makes getting him to sleep much harder than it was a few weeks ago. And he is suffering from mild thrush (yeast infection of the mouth) and reflux which isn't helping his comfort. But these are just minor and short-term bumps in the road.

To try to keep all of us as even-keeled as possible (especially sleep deprived mom & dad), we have been trying to get out of the house as much as possible and it has been an amazing help to have the grandparents around for much of the past month. (My parents left on July 4 and the Raymonds arrived on the 13th). Here are some pics from our outings:

Bordeaux Quai, June 19

Arcachon, July 1

Baseball in Bordeaux, the Pessac Panthères v Monligny Cougars, July 10

Miroir d'Eau, July 2

Bordeaux Quai, July 3

Also, in honor of Zack's 1 monthiversary, it's probably a good time to write my own recollections of D-day. Obviously, I trust Sean who was significantly more lucid than I was but I do have a few memories to share. I have added them in blue font to Sean's original post.

Brotherly Love

2011-07-09T11:23:00.013+02:00

I can't believe it's been over 3 weeks since Zachary Max Raymond arrived! Owen was a bit skeptical at first, not wanting to get too close when he came to visit us at the hospital on the day Zack was born:

We convinced him to get a bit closer but he still was more interested in a piece of candy than his baby brother:
But how quickly things change!

Always the observant type, when Zack and I first came home on Saturday, June 18, Owen would sit next to us on the couch and watch us but was not ready to touch the little guy.

But then, after Owen's nap, Zack gave Owen a special "Thank You For Being My Big Brother" bicycle. And Owen was hooked! On the bike and on his little brother. First, he started saying that he was glad Meatball came out of my belly. Then, he started asking if he could kiss the baby or hold him on his lap. Here are a few of my favorite brother shots:

I love my boys!

Zack's birth story

2011-06-21T20:25:00.008+02:00

Hi everyone!

Here is my recollection of the morning when Meatball ("Zack", officially Zachary Max Raymond) was born. I'm writing this with Marisa here and I've put some notes/thoughts in [] brackets. Comments written in blue are by Marisa. Everything took place on Tuesday, June 14th.

[Note: here is my account of Owen's birth in 2008]:

---------

Here it how it started. I was woken at 2 am by Marisa whispering. "I think it's time." [I've been informed that Marisa wasn't actually whispering.]

[In my head: Aww, man! Yol just got here last night -- convenient for taking care of Owen -- but the next few nights were supposed to be a blissfully free last hurrah of going out to dinner and movies and beers. Throw that out the window!] I thought the same thing!

We stayed in bed for the next hour. I took advantage of that time to read some of the birthing books we had, especially the parts about the different stages of labor! We started timing the interval between contractions. It looked like Marisa was just in the very early, preliminary stages. Her contractions were irregular and relatively weak, so weak that a couple times she thought it was a false alarm and that she wasn't in labor. If I remember right, they were a few to ten minutes apart and lasted about 20 seconds at this point. I remember thinking, "what did we have for dinner last night? Maybe these are just gas pains?"

I woke up Yol at 3 am -- rough for her since she was still jet-lagged from her transatlantic flight the day before (she landed in Bordeaux at 2 pm). Then, I did my best to help Marisa with her contractions by massaging her back and whispering sweet words (my specialty), and she took a shower too. [Marisa: and saying things like "the book says...."].

[In my head: I am so glad Yol is here! Our plan was that if Meatball was born before Yol arrived then our friends Jonah and Alison would come and look after Owen while I was at the hospital. But having Yol downstairs makes things infinitely easier. Still, I sent Jonah a text message to let him know what was up, expecting him not to reply until morning, but he texted me back in about 10 minutes.]

After Marisa's shower, we settled on the couch for an hour or more. It was about 3:30 or so. Marisa's contractions were getting more intense and lasting a little longer (30-45 seconds) but they were still far less intense than she expected and they were still very irregular. It looked like she was still in the very early stages of labor, that, according to our book, should last around 4-6 hours. Marisa was confident that she was not in active labor because she could still talk through her contractions.

During this time, we watched the Les Miserables 25th anniversary and those songs stuck in my head for the next several days. [Note that Les Mis also played a key role in Owen's birth. In fact, Owen was born while Les Mis was playing -- Marisa thinks it was during Javert's Soliloquy.] Les Mis rocks! I was lying on the couch and singing along with the songs. At one point, I remember moving to the exercise ball. But I was still so caught up in the emotions of the concert.

Things started to get a little more intense around 5 so we decided to go for a little walk. It was pretty nice out but Marisa was getting hit by some rougher contractions so we didn't walk long. She said she was ready to head to the hospital, but first she wanted to take a shower. She was sure she wasn't in active labor yet ("I can still walk and talk through the contractions but I don't want to") but she wanted the comfort of knowing she was at the hospital with some time to spare. Plus, she wanted to be sure to get there in time to have the option to have an epidural if she wanted. I got the car all ready and waited for her to finish her shower. In the two birthing classes that I attended here in France, I remembered the mid-wife saying that you can't get an epidural after 8cm dilation. When we first started walking, I remember telling Sean that I felt pressure around my cervix so I thought I was just starting to dilate. After about 10 minutes, as the contractions were intensifying, I told Sean that I wanted to get to the hospital before the contractions got worse (to the point were I couldn't walk and talk) because I wanted to make sure I had time to get the drugs. Figuring we still had lots of time, I wanted to take a quick shower to relax before sitting down in the car because I didn't know the next time I would be able to shower. The warm water felt great though, I have to admit, it felt a whole lot more comfortable sitting on the floor of the shower than standing. I remember cursing about our lack of a bathtub.

We headed for the hospital at about 6 am and things started to get really exciting. For a long time I had imagined the drive to the hospital like in the movies: swerving through traffic with a wife screaming her head off and the baby's head poking its head out. The drive to the hospital for Owen's birth was pretty boring because Marisa wasn't in labor, just leaking fluid such that she had to be induced. But, the hospital drive for Zackhammer's birth was really exciting, right out of a movie -- a kind of ridiculous but heartwarming movie like Knocked Up.

It's funny, another thing I remember that the mid-wife said in the birthing class was how women go into this "zen" state during labor. Reading Sean's recollections of our trip to the hospital below it doesn't sound like I was very calm but, in my head, I definitely was. I remember grabbing the door handle of the car when ever a contraction started and just trying to concentrate on breathing. At first I was taking deep breaths and I remember Sean saying, "shorter breaths are better" so I tried that. I don't remember making any grunts or groans. Just the sound of my breathing. And, looking out the windshield to gauge our progress.

No traffic. Bags in the trunk. Marisa in the passenger seat, me driving. The first few minutes were nothing but fun: we were off to have the baby. Every few minutes Marisa would have a contraction, tense up and breathe hard and grunt a little. But then she would calm back down. In any case, there was nothing to worry about -- it was only a 15-20 minute drive with no traffic.

But things started to get tougher. Each of Marisa's contractions was more intense than the last. I was following the instructions in the birthing book I had read earlier that morning that said to drive the speed limit, but it was a little hard when Marisa started grunting harder and even screaming a little during contractions.

We were almost there and Marisa was not happy. She was screaming every contraction and was in serious pain. I took the turn off the boulevard toward Hopital Pellegrin and followed the normal way until.... the road was blocked by unmarked construction. There were meter-high pieces of concrete blocking the street. "JUST DRIVE THROUGH IT!" screamed Marisa. The road blocks were these white and red plastic barriers so I just assumed they were easy to drive through. I really thought it would be harmless for the car. I have since learned that they fill these plastic barriers with sand and cement to weigh them down (makes sense so they don't get blown over) but that thought had not occurred to me at the time.

[In my head: I knew things were bad but I didn't realize they were this bad! Holy crap! I guess real active labor must be starting and these are real contractions.] In my head: "Are you F'ing kidding me! Why the F was their no detour sign on the boulevard! F'ing French." Probably a good thing that Sean couldn't read my thoughts because he probably would have really started to panic. I didn't start dropping F-bombs during Owen's delivery until after I had been pushing for several hours and the epidural was wearing off.

I took the easiest detour but there was a garbage truck blocking the narrow one-lane road. I was pretty frazzled but Marisa guided me back to the boulevard. I took the next left, got us to the hospital and Marisa guided us up the back way to the emergency maternity entrance. No other cars so I left the car right in front of the entrance. [Where did that come from? She was screaming her head off a second ago and now she remembers where she is? Good show!]

Marisa was in a bad way. She got out of the car and stumbled into the entrance loudly and in obvious distress. Marisa noticed on the clock in the entrance hall that it was 6:18 am. She was met by a nurse and guided into the prepping room. I don't remember a prepping room. I remember the nurse asking me when the contractions started and whether I had pre-registered. I looked at Sean to respond for me as I was in the middle of another contraction. Then I remember her escorting me about 2 feet to a gurney and checking me right there in the entrance way of the hospital. While I was instructing Sean that the pre-admission documents were in the file folder he was carrying with all my medical records. The nurse lay her down on the bed and got some information from us -- we even had to give her some forms (love the French bureaucracy!) Then the nurse checked Marisa's cervix. To this point the nurse had been very calm and had moved relatively slowly -- more slowly than I expected at least. It took the nurse a little while to announce her verdict: Marisa was dilated to 8 cm! That meant that Marisa was in the "transition" phase of labor, the most painful part, and must have already been in active labor for a while. But her water hadn't broken.

Marisa was still having frequent contractions and was in serious pain. She asked if she could still get an epidural but I don't think her question was ever officially answered (Marisa had told me earlier that they don't give epidurals when you are more than 7 cm dilated I think). I remember the nurse giving me this look like, "you are crazy lady". I assumed that she just did not understand my French. Another nurse came in about two minutes later, checked Marisa's cervix and announced that she was fully dilated and that it was go time. The nurse asked Marisa if she felt the urge to push. Marisa said no. Then, almost immediately after, Marisa had a contraction and changed her mind but the nurses said NO! don't push yet, this is not in a delivery room! Ok, our recollections diverge a bit here too. After the nurse said I was 8cm, I remember four other people rushing to grab the gurney and start wheeling me into the salle d'accouchment (delivery room). I don't remember them talking to me, just moving very rapidly down the hall. I saw the clock on the ceiling which said 0625. Then the next clock said 0805 and I remember being seriously confused. Had 90 minutes gone by, or was the last clock actually revealing the date? But it was June not May. What the heck was going on?! I tried to turn my head to point it out to Sean and ask for clarity but I couldn't see him (I guess the nurses had taken him to get his scrub gown) so I called his name. And I also remember seeing a man in scrubs with white hair on my left side of the gurney and thinking, "oh good, that must be the anesthesiologist. That must mean there is still time for a epidural!" Also, deviating from Sean's recollection a bit, I remember this being the time that the mid-wife asked if I had an urge to push and then telling me not to.

They wheeled her bed down the hall, through some doors and around a couple of turns. I was close behind but I had to stop to put on a gown of some kind for some sort of hospital-ish reason. I got into the delivery room a minute later. It was 6:28.

The rest is, again, straight out of a movie. Probably a PG-13 rated one because despite the deafening screams there was surprisingly little profanity (not out loud, anyway. there were lots of R-rated words in my head!). We were joined by a couple of nurses -- midwives, actually, although they appeared in pretty much all respects to be similar to american nurses. The midwives scrambled to get things ready. They removed the bottom part of the bed. They made Marisa scoot this way and that to put things underneath her. They started to put some kind of painkillers in her arm (I think) but then stopped. I saw the white-haired man again and felt a nurse/mid-wife start putting an IV needle in my arm so I thought I was getting the epidural. Then I remember another mid-wife checking my cervix again and then she said something to the needle mid-wife. I didn't understand anything other than "elle est complet" and the mid-wife with the needle pulled the needle out. And the white-haired man disappearing (I never saw him again). Sean doesn't remember seeing this man at all. I wonder if I made him up. I remember screaming louder but not from the pain as much as from the realization that I wasn't going to get the drugs. And remembering the 3 hours of pushing with Owen, I was convinced I was going to die from pain and shock before this baby was going to come out. And also wondering how many other women were in other delivery rooms in the ward hearing my screams. Then I remember the mid-wife down below telling me not to push because she was going to break my water with the next contraction. That was about 30 seconds later. Then she told me I could start pushing with the next contraction which I think was about 5 seconds later. And the needle-nurse, still at my right side, pulled up the side bar of the bed for me to grab on to and told me to "soufflez" (breath). And, clearly part of my brain was still "zen" as I recalled some more advice from the child-birth class: first, not to bear down when we push because that contracts the upper abs and can block the diaphragm so it is better to push against something with your hands and try to use only the oblique and lower abs to push the baby out. So I gripped the side rails of the bed and braced myself against them to keep my back flat on the bed. And second, that getting a baby out in less than 10 pushes is ideal. I pushed 4 times before Zack came out.

Marisa pushed and screamed and screamed and pushed. I stood beside her, held her hand, stroked her hand and tried my best to keep her calm-ish. By the time the midwives seemed to actually be ready it was GO time! They used a creepy-looking long thing to break her water. Marisa was in agony, pushing up a storm and hurting. But, unlike with Owen, it didn't take long. During one push I caught a glimpse of something to my left that was not usually there (!). The next big push his head was there. One more and he was out! The Zackhammer was born! It was 6:38 am. I was incredibly relieved to immediately discover that he had a face (unlike last time!). It happened so fast that I didn't have the chance to take a "before" picture.

The rest of the story is pretty standard. Zackslash cried and was laid on Marisa's belly and started nursing almost immediately. I don't remember Zack feeding right away. In fact I have a distinct memory of him falling asleep on my chest for a while afterwards and wondering if I should wake him up to try to get him to nurse. One of the mid-wives asked if he was feeding and I said "not yet" and she said, "he's tired. that was the most excitement he's had in 9 months." A midwife clamped the cord and I cut it. Marisa was hurting (when they were prodding my belly and pulling to get the placenta out) and it took them a while to stitch her up. We stayed in the delivery room for a couple hours -- they weighed Count Zackula at 3.150 kilos, or 6 lbs 15 oz.

We spent the next 4 days in the hospital in a pretty nice room. I went back home daily to spend time with Owen and Yol, and Marisa of course stayed with Zackknife. He looks almost exactly like baby Owen did, which is awesome but a little weird. So far he nurses and sleeps pretty well. [Our biggest hiccup was the circumcision because that is pretty rare in France but that is a different story.]

[I need to emphasize one last time how key it was that Yol was here. If it wasn't for her I would only have been able to be in the hospital for a few hours each day, when Owen was in daycare. I'm sure I could have persuaded Ali and Jonah to stay over a night or two so I could go to the hospital but it was so great having Yol taking care of Boyo so I didn't have to worry about it.]

We took the Zackrabbit home on Sunday June 18. He brought a big present for Owen with him (a bike that Owen loves) and now we're getting used to having a new guy in the family.

The adventure continues....

love, Sean, Marisa, Owen and Zack (aka Zackmail aka the Zacksaw aka the humpZack whale aka Zackadaisical aka the quarterZack aka the preZackaged Meatball)

He's Here!!

2011-06-14T19:24:00.003+02:00

Introducing Zachary Max Raymond

June 14, 2011 (US Flag Day) at 6:38am
3.150kg (6lbs 15oz)
48cm (almost 19 inches)

Everyone is doing well.

French Healthcare Experience #3: Pregnancy

2011-05-27T14:32:00.006+02:00

As D-Day (delivery day) approaches - 9 days and counting at the time of this posting - now is as good a time as ever to jot down some of our thoughts about being pregnant on the ex-pat planet.

One of the first differences I noticed right away is the "laissez-faire" attitude of the French healthcare providers. When we had our miscarriage last year and then were having difficulties getting pregnant again, every healthcare provider I talked to here in France had the attitude of, "miscarriages happen. You were able to get pregnant before and it will happen again so why are you so worried? Stop worrying and you'll get pregnant again." I didn't have supplements offered to me or blood work done. Just wait and see. And my type-A control-freak brain has had a hard time adjusting. And that laissez-faire attitude continues even with the pregnancy. Both our generaliste (PCP) and my gynecologue have understood that this was a new experience for us and offered to order tests that are not routinely performed here because I asked. Usually they hand over the lab order with a smile and a "don't worry so much" remark. And when I went back to my OB for a refill of my prenatal vitamins in the 2nd trimester I was told to just eat lots of fruits and vegetables and that the vitamins are only necessary in the first trimester as they contain high levels of folic acid.

One of the biggest differences here is the dating of the pregnancy. In the US, pregnancy dating based on 40 weeks from last menstrual period. Since women don't conceive until 2 weeks or so after their last menstrual period, you are considered 4 weeks pregnant by the time you've missed your first period. In France, they use a 41 week dating system. I'm not really sure why, but my educated guess is that the 40 week system is based on the average woman having a 28 day cycle so that conception occurs 2 weeks after the last menstrual period. But that, in general, it is not uncommon for a woman to have a longer cycle, upto 35 days or more, so the French account for this in their calculation. In anycase, my US and French due dates, as I mentioned in my previous post, are one week different. And this has caused me lots of confusion when talking with medical professionals. Especially since the ultrasound software here appears to calculate due date based on the US system so all of the ultrasounds that I have had here (5 total) list the baby's due date as June 20 or 21 even though my medical chart says June 28. Confusing. But, in the end, the baby will arrive when he's ready. Or, at the very latest, not much after the 28th as the French do not like women to go past their due dates. In fact, if the baby is not here by the 28th, we have been instructed to go to the hospital for a non-stress test and likely induction (because school holidays begin on June 30 so lots of medical professionals will go on vacation beginning in July).

One thing that I have been fortunate to find are some good sources of self-care. Sean has been awesome at using his flexible work hours to give me some me-time. I've been going to prenatal yoga every Thursday night since the beginning of February and an American friend of mine started teaching belly dancing classes two weeks ago. Sean also bought me a prenatal massage giftg certificate for my birthday in January which was amazing! And he's taken a few half-days off so that I could attend a monthly creativity workshop (hosted by the amazing Concetta and Dianne at the Bordeaux-USA club) or just relax on the couch for a bit.

As for the delivery, we still have yet to see how this goes but, in general, babies are delivered almost exclusively by mid-wives (sage-femmes) who are assisted by nurses in the hospital or birthing centers. (We do have a few friends who have had home births but this is very rare here). This differs in the US where most hospitals that I know of staff nurses to assist during labor and then the doctor comes for the actual delivery though a woman can choose to have her pregnancy followed and labor assisted by a mid-wife. We'll know more about how the French system works in practice after the little one decides to make his appearance but we've been told that, at the hospital where this baby will be born, there is 1 mid-wife per 5 beds in the maternité (maternity ward) and that we will only see a doctor in the event of a c-section or significant complication. Also, while this is changing a bit, the majority of women (80% according to my mid-wife) have epidurals and the mid-wives at the hospital may try to "encourage" me to have the epidural soon after arrival as it makes their life easier in being able to monitor the several women in their care. But, again, this is dependent on the individual midwife and how crowded the maternity ward is when we get there. The midwife who runs my child birth classes told me to just be firm and direct when we get to the hospital about our wishes. And that, by law, the midwife has to do what we want. So, Sean and I are making sure we're on the same page since, I have a feeling, because of the language issues, I'll be asking him to be doing most of the talking at the hospital while I'm in active labor.

A benefit here has been the French government's subsidization concerning children. First and foremost you are supposed to notify the CAF (Centre d'Allocations Familiales, there is no US equivalent for this, it is the governmental department responsible for paying out mother's money and subsidizing education/child care) of your pregnancy before the end of your first trimester. The CAF then uses their information about your income, number of children, etc, to determine whether you quality for a Prime de la Naissance (basically a signing bonus for delivering a baby to cover the expenses associated with setting up your home for a newborn) and an allocation mensuelle (a monthly allowance for which you are eligible for each child up until the age of 3 years). It is probably the one benefit of the salaries in France being so low compared to our salaries in the US is that we actually qualify for these. We received the one-time prime of around 900 euros (about $1200) and will receive an allocation of 150 euros (about $175) a month for the new child. Plus, they subsidize Owen's daycare so that we only paid 30 centimes (about 50 cents) an hour (though he is only allowed to go for 12 hours a week). So, we complain about a lot of things in France but this is not one of those things (although if you want to hear me complain about this just ask about our experience with the paperwork we had to fill out for the CAF).

And a funny anecdote about being pregnant here has been more social in nature. In particular, the French have a very different sense of personal space than Americans. I ran into an acquaintance of ours, when I was about 6 months pregnant. "He is growing a lot," she said, patting my belly. "And so are you," she continued, patting my boobs. And she is not the only one who has felt it appropriate to comment on my bustline.

Now back to the waiting...

A Year in Review

2011-05-06T14:58:00.011+02:00

It's hard to believe that an entire year has gone by since our last posting on the blog. It is not that we have forgotten. In fact, we have started numerous posts over the last year. But, time and energy and life got in the way, I guess.

But, with Baby Boy Raymond #2 expected to make his arrival into this world in a few weeks (American due date 6/21, French due date 6/28), I think it's time to return to the world of blogging to record for him, as we did for Owen, our family's adventures during their early lives.

Here is a quick run-down of the past year. There are some specific topics, many related to the cultural differences we have encountered during our experience with trying to conceive and pregnancy that deserve more attention and I will update these in greater detail later. But for starters:

May 2010 saw Sean's frisbee team win Division 3 of the French National League. Owen and I also took a trip to Paris to meet our good friends Astrid and Lena for a mommy & me adventure. Soon after, Bordeaux was bathed in sun and our house was filled with visitors. The Raymonds, the Wests, the NY Uncles and the Zahlers, all came to enjoy the vistas, food, and wine of Bordeaux. There are too many fabulous photos to post here so I will be posting them to Picasa and I'll update this page with the link. Unfortunately, we have had a computer failure in the interim so I have to retrieve the photos from the external hard drive before I can upload them.

Summer was also an opportunity to make new friends and enjoy the excitement of the Tour de France which passed thru Bordeaux in late July. We also did our own fair share of travelling, enjoying the benefits of the French labor laws (and 6 weeks of vacation a year!). We spent a week camping in the Pays Basque. We also spent a month in the US on our own tour visiting family and friends.

Fall of 2010 brought more visitors, namely, the Krasnoos (Sean's high school friend and his bride) and the Matts (graduate school friends who recently moved near Paris). We also travelled a bunch in the fall: a relaxing trip to Anglet, near Biarritz. Well, relaxing for me and Owen who got to spend the days hanging out on the beach of a beautiful resort while Sean was at a conference. Then a true family vacation to Milan for a long weekend. Fall also brought the exciting news of my pregnancy almost six months to the day after my loss.

Sadly, October 2010 also brought with it some sadness. My uncle Max passed away after a 2 year battle with cancer. I flew to Florida to be with my family for the funeral. Max was an amazing person and a true renaissance man. He is greatly missed.

NYC 1979

my Bat Mitzvah 1989

NYC 2008

Antwerp 2010

As the weather turned colder, we continued to adjust to life in France with our Raymond Halloween and Raymond Thanksgiving events. These are sure to become annual events as we had so much fun sharing these traditions with our French and ex-pat friends alike. And, of course, cold weather also means utter holiday and birthday chaos in the Raymond household. This year we had Hanukah, Escalade, Christmas, Owen's birthday, and my birthday all within 5 weeks. Our house was filled with chocolate, cake, and wrapping paper! And, for the week between Christmas and New Years, Nan and Pip came to visit again.

As the snow started to fall (yes, we may be in Southern France but we do get snow), we decided to take Owen to the mountains to try skiing. He loved it and was a true natural. Next year he'll be old enough and fluent enough to go to ski school so I'm sure we'll be making loads more trips to the mountains! We also celebrated my birthday by going to Portugal to meet Grandpa and Vovo. Owen is still talking about the zoo in Lisbon and the aquarium in Porto. :)

And, of course, now we are well into Spring and still trying to learn to take our life on the ex-pat planet day by day. We have registered Owen to start French school in the fall, are preparing for the new arrival, are continuing to meet lots of friends, and generally trying to laugh about the WTF (Welcome To France) moments instead of letting them spoil our mood.

We lost another wonderful member of the family a few weeks ago. Sean's grandmother, Mim, passed away at age 90. She was a kind and loving person and is also greatly missed.

Maine 2008

Maine 2009

Upstate NY 2010

Well, this post is long, my brain is tired, and Owen's nap will be over soon. As I said, we will try to be more diligent about keeping the blog updated, especially as Elmo Panda Bear Balthazar Raymond (as Owen would like to call his little brother) makes his appearance.

A bientôt!

Having a bad day

2010-05-02T14:52:00.005+02:00

Today is one of those days when you wish you had a rewind or fast forward button on life. Neither Owen nor I slept well last night. I heard foxes in heat all night long and Owen was coughing and trying to breath through a snot faucet. So, this morning, there was a lot of crying by both parties.

Yet, somehow, laundry still managed to get done and we both enjoyed our quiet play time: arts & crafts.

Here are our finished pieces:

By Owen

By Me

Celebratory challah

2010-05-01T21:40:00.006+02:00

Today is our 6th monthiversary in France. We are still settling in and adjusting to life (more about that in a later post). In celebration of today, Owen and I made challah. It was fun and YUMMY! Sean is in Switzerland preparing to hike the Haute Route. So he wouldn't miss out on the celebration, we froze half of the loaf for him. ;o)

We also have beautiful roses in bloom in our garden. I cut a few and now our house smells so wonderful. I wish this blog has smell-a-vision.

Where did April Go?

2010-04-29T10:47:00.011+02:00

"Holy smokes" as Owen would say. Where did the month of April go?

So many things happened in April yet, as I look at our photos, not much was documented visually. So here are a few highlights:

1) Sean's first weekend ultimate tournament as a member of the A-team for 33Tours. The tournament was in Angers, a town about 4 hours north of Bordeaux.

The weekend started out with a huge purchase: a new car!

Just kidding... though we were very impressed (and Owen was very excited) that the dealership had mini cars to keep the kids occupied while mommies and daddies sign loads of paperwork. Here is the new car in the driveway moments after arrival:

Then, early Saturday morning, we packed up the car and headed up to Angers. The first game was at noon. We had quite an eventful trip. Sean's bank card was eaten by the ATM at a gas station on the way so we had to wait around for someone to extract the card. We arrived at the fields just in time for the games. The team did great! They were undefeated in all 4 of their games over the weekend. So many members of the team kept coming up to me on Sunday afternoon to tell me how great it was to have Sean on the team. He definitely looked good out there...

Team photo: précieux

Also precious is this picture of Owen napping at the fields:

For more photos and a description of the games, you can look at the team's website: 33Tours. We also really enjoyed the dorm-style hotel we stayed in called the Lac de Maine (about 30E per person per night including breakfast)

On Sunday, while the boys played (it's an open league but ther are no women on the A team), Owen and I headed to the quai of Angers to check out the boats. Unfortunately, we only saw 1 boat out on the water but Owen had a great time nonetheless running along the quai with his stroller (la poussette) and toy construction vehicles (loader = la chargeuse; backhoe = la tractopelle; dumptruck = le camion-benne).

2) We hosted our first BBQ in France!

Sean mowed A LOT of grass in preparation.

Courtney made a grass house with Owen and took Owen and Amy to look for deer (they didn't find any)

Owen and Amy played together in the sandbox and hammock.

It was a lot of fun. Thanks to Helen, Julien, Courtney, Pascal, Jasmina, Amy, Franck, Valentine, and Elliot (Saroumane) for coming and bringing tasty treats! :)

And tomorrow is not only May Day (May 1st), which is a bank holiday in France - even the supermarkets are closed - but it is also the 6th monthiversary of our moving to France!

A friend recently pointed out that I haven't done as much blogging about the ups and downs of the transition. She's right and I think it's because it really has been a rollercoaster and hard to put into words sometimes. But, tomorrow, while Owen naps, I will give it a try. So stay tuned... ;o)

French Healthcare Experience #2

2010-04-27T22:20:00.003+02:00

At the beginning of April, I had another miscarriage. (For those who don't know, I had one in 2006 before Owen). Obviously it was a sad experience, though definitely not as difficult to deal with as last time. And the purpose of this blog isn't to talk about the loss, but to talk about my experience with the French healthcare system as a result.

Pro #1: It was easy to schedule an appointment with an OB/Gyn
In France, you basically call any doctor's office and say, "Je voudrais un rendez-vous" and they will see you. None of this, "what insurance do you have" or "we aren't taking new patients". I had gotten a recommendation for an English-speaking OB/Gyn from another American I met who has lived her for several years. When we found out I was pregnant, Sean made an appointment for an ultrasound when I would be 7 weeks along. I never made it that far. (Technically, this is called a chemical pregnancy).

When I started bleeding at just over 5 weeks pregnant, Sean was in California at a conference and I was home alone with Owen. I called the OB's office and told the receptionist what was going on (in French which made me feel quite proud). I was told to come in the next day at 10am and the doctor would see me.

Con #1: I am not suited for the laissez-faire attitude of the French medecin (doctor)
- At the appointment, for which I had to wait over 45 minutes to see the doctor, she was extremely nice and her English was excellent. But it was definitely a very different experience to an interaction with a doctor in the US. First, her office is an actual office. Not an exam room. A desk with chairs for the patient. Separated from the waiting room by a heavy (but not sound-proof) door. We sat facing each other and she I told her my medical history. She wrote it all down ON PAPER! There was not a computer to be seen! When I told her about my previous miscarriage and complications that arose and then the possibility that I was miscarrying again she nodded and said, "yes, well miscarriages are quite common." Not, "I'm sorry" or even the the sad head nod you expect when someone is being told difficult news. Just, a very "medical" approach to patient care. "Just the facts, ma'am. Just the facts."

-Then, we walked to her exam room which was attached to her office. She did leave while I undressed which was nice I guess. After her physical exam she said, "ok, let's go to the sonogram room." It was another room on the other side of her office. She told me to leave my clothes there and just walk. It was only 15 or so steps but it just seemed silly to me. I mean, I'm not a prude but as least offer me a towel or a gown or let me put my socks on so my feet don't freeze on your tile floor!

Pro #2: Modern technology
- I know this sounds lame but I notice these things. Her ultrasound machine was a newer model.

Con #2: Find your own lab for the blood draw and call us with the results
- After the ultrasound, it was clear that I was likely having a miscarriage and she wanted to confirm with a beta-HCG (pregnancy hormone) blood test. She wrote me a script and said, "just take it to any lab. If they are still elevated, go back in a few days. We'll talk once the results are back." Fortunately, I have a friend here who has a baby in December so I called her to ask where I could get my blood analyzed. Turns out, in France, there are specific Laboratoire d'Analysis, offices for the soul purpose of drawing blood. So, after lunch (with Helen who SAVED THE DAY by coming along to look after Owen) and a nap at home, off I went, with Owen in tow, to have my blood drawn. When I got to the place, I had to take a number and wait. The phlebotomist came and got me, drew my blood, then handed me a receipt. "You're results will be ready tomorrow afternoon, we're open until 7pm. Bring this receipt to get the results."

Wait, what? You don't call my doctor's office with the results? "No, we can fax them to the number on her prescription form but we cannot be responsible for whether she gets them." Uh, ok.

PS - never heard from the doctor but got the results myself and because of my previous pregnancy experience and the help of the wonderful ladies from my miscarriage support group site, I was able to interpret them on my own.

Pro #3- I paid virtually nothing!
- In the US, when my miscarriage was confirmed, the doctor's office sent me a bill for over $300. Apparently, my insurance company would not pay their fee for all the ultrasounds and blood work to confirm the miscarriage since, because the miscarriage was confirmed prior to 12 weeks of pregnancy, the insurance company did not consider that I was pregnant. UGH! That still makes me mad to think about almost 4 years later!

Anyway, in France, I had to pay 90Euros for the ultrasound because we haven't gotten our insurance card yet but we will be reimbursed at least 70% once we get our act together and mail in the form. I did not have to pay anything for the blood draws or the office visit itself.

Con #3: Did I mention that the doctor never called me back?!

Con #4: For some reason, I have a mental block about being able to find doctors' offices without taking a wrong turn on the incredibly windy roads in France. So, yes, we were 15 minutes late for the appointment.

Pro #4: No one cared that we were late and I was still seen. Even though they schedule appointments in France, I have yet to have an experience where I am seen on-time. But, if you show up at some point within an hour of your scheduled appointment, it seems that you will be seen.

So, all in all, it has been an interesting experience. I have now started to go to acupuncture which has also been quite different than my experience in the US. Primarily because, in France, in order to perform acupuncture, you must be a medecin. So, many of these same issues apply to the 3 times that I have seen him so far.

I have had to wait 2 of the 3 times for 45 minutes to be seen. The first time because, even though I was on-time for my appointment, a woman who was 15 minutes late for her appointment showed up just before the doctor came to the waiting room and I felt insecure about demanding to be seen first. Plus, I'm not really sure I would have known how to defend myself if the lady had started an argument over it.

I missed my first appointment with an acupuncturist because I couldn't find her office. Though I like the guy I ended up seeing so maybe it was meant to be.

The medecin de homeopathie that I am seeing now for acupuncture also has a desk in his office where we sit and go over my history. And he writes everything down on paper. Though, there is a computer on his desk. He uses this to schedule appointments and to log onto WordReference, an online dictionary, which has come in handy a few times. Though, for my part, we do about 90% of the session in French. But back to his record-keeping. In fact, all his records of all his patients are stored in manila envelopes in his treatment room for anyone to rummage through. And once he even had the previous patient's record open on his desk when I came in. Total HIPAA violation! :o)

What I like about this guy, however, is that he comes to get the patient personally. He has a "secretary" (I believe it's his wife) who answers the phone and helps schedule appointments but once you come to the office and are seated in the waiting room, he comes to greet you himself and he even escorts me back to the waiting room after the appointment.

So, like most of the experiences we've had during our transition to life on the "ex-pat planet" (thanks Concetta for the new phrase), our French Healthcare Experience continues to be filled with pros and cons as compared to our experiences in the US and, all in all, balances out. And, in the end, it gives us something to talk about (and hopefully laugh about) with our international friends.

On our own

2010-03-31T16:00:00.005+02:00

Owen and I have been trying to stay busy since Vovo and Daddy left. We are more than half-way through our solo adventure and both of us are not 100% (Owen has a stuffy nose, I have a sore throat) and the weather has taken a turn for the not-so-nice so we spent today inside. And we both got to enjoy a nice long afternoon nap.

But, I wanted to post a few cute pics from the past few days because we have had many fun moments.

1) On Sunday, we went to a picnic hosted by the Bordeaux Women's Club, an anglophone club here. The picnic was at a lake in Caradsac (about 20 minutes away though it took us an hour thanks to my inability to follow French road signs and directions). The lake was beautiful and Owen enjoyed throwing rocks into the water. There was also a playground. Owen is really enjoying the big boy swings these days and does a great job holding on! After the arm incident of last week, I am a bit overprotective.

2) Playing on the deck. With cars, of course.

3) Our "forest" of new trees. We have an olive tree, 2 orange trees (one clementine and one "Oranges from Mexico"), and a Yucca plant. The yucca and Mexican orange tree are not pictured. In there place in this picture is a lemon tree for which we are house sitting.

4) One of Owen's new favorite activities is playdough! We spent over an hour today making playdough pizzas, playdough animals, and, of course, playdough Pixar Cars.

Vovo's visit

2010-03-30T15:38:00.000+02:00

My mom was here last week for a short visit. She had been in Mozambique on business and had to fly thru Lisbon. The original plan was that Owen and I would meet her in Lisbon but as Owen has no visa in his American passport and we have yet to receive his Belgian one, we weren't sure we could legally take him on a plane. :)

So, Vovo came here and we had a great time. The weather was beautiful so we got to spend a lot of time outdoors.

We took Vovo to a playground on the Quai in the St. Michel quartier of Bordeaux. On the way, we stopped at the blue lion statute at Stalingrad tram stop and then walked across the Pont de Pierre to the playground. We had never been to this playground before and were surprised by how crowded it was on a Monday afternoon. Usually playgrounds are empty any day except Wednesday (when French kids are out of school). And I was also surprised by how many parents (as opposed to nannies) were with their children. Then we noticed that most of the children and families were not speaking French. So, clearly, this is the playground for all of us immigrants. :) Owen was a bit overwhelmed by the crowd but perked up once the swings became available.

We decided that Sean would meet us in town and we'd go out for a pizza dinner at Peppones. As we waited for Sean, we decided to take Owen to the Foire de Plaisirs (Pleasure Fair, basically a portable amusement park that has been set up in Bordeaux for the month of March in celebration of Carnaval). Owen rode in the carousel and won a fire truck by fishing for ducks.

Vovo also got to visit Maison Soleil and Halte Garderie Nicholas et Pimpernelle - two of the indoor playgyms that Owen and I attend. Owen enjoyed having the extra attention and showing off all the toys. And I think Vovo enjoyed seeing what our "normal" routine in Bordeaux is like.

On Thursday, we took Vovo to our new favorite park in Gradignan (see post below). It was a GORGEOUS spring day and Owen enjoyed the walk around the animal park.

Owen was sad to see Vovo leave and we're hoping to see her again in June, this time with Grandpa and maybe Aunt Barbara!

Owen: Then and Now

2010-03-25T13:19:00.001+01:00

I just took this picture of Owen last week and it reminded me so much of a picture from almost 2 years ago so I had to show them together. Enjoy!

Owen, March 2010, Bordeaux

Owen, May 2008, New York

French Healthcare Experience #1

2010-03-20T22:45:00.001+01:00

I'm sure I'll lose count eventually but today was our first experience with the French healthcare system since becoming official recipients of coverage.

It was totally my fault and I'm still feeling a bit overwhelmed and guilty so please forgive any rambling. I'm posting as much for my own mental health as I am to describe the cultural experience.

This weekend Sean is playing in his first frisbee tournament with 33 tours, Bordeaux's ultimate team. I took Owen in the afternoon to watch daddy play frisbee. As the final point of the final game was being scored (Sean's team lost), I must have pulled a bit awkwardly on Owen's arm. I heard a clicking noise like a knuckle cracking, a delayed pause, and Owen started crying. When I asked him where it hurt he pointed to his arm. He continued to cry every time I touched his arm (which I did a lot while trying to figure out if it was broken) and he wanted to go home. We took him home but noticed that he refused to use his left arm for anything, including holding a truck so you know it had to hurt. We decided to take him the hospital. Bordeaux has a fairly prestigious university hospital with a children's urgent care center. So, we hopped in the car and drove the 20 or so minutes to get there.

The Children's Urgent Care (Urgence d'Enfants) Center is located downstairs from the parking lot. When we arrived there were about 5 or 6 other families there. But not a single fussy child. Even Owen was calm and we brought the computer with the Cars Movie DVD to keep him entertained since we didn't know how long it would take.

Our first experience was checking in. Just like an Urgent Care facility in the US (in which we had several experiences during Owen's first 21 months of life), you have to sign in at the desk. They ask for the purpose of your visit and a signature from a parent and then send you to the a different person to handle insurance.

So, step 2, insurance. We haven't received our carte vitale (health insurance card) yet. This card has a microchip in it that contains information about your social security number and health insurance provider. While France does have national healthcare, the social security system does not pay the full cost of the services (usually only covers 70%) so most people, including us, have supplemental insurance. We have been filling out forms for over 3 months and all we have to prove that we have supplemental health insurance in France is a letter from our provider. We're still waiting for the correct paperwork to be processed so we can receive our cards. Anyway, naturally, in our eagerness to get Owen to the hospital, we forgot this letter at home so all we had was the card from the insurance provider with their phone number on it. When we handed it to the lady at the hospital she said it was basically useless. We told her we had just moved to Bordeaux so were still waiting for the cards and she said, "D'accord" (Okay) and told us to take a seat.

Steps 1 + 2 took a total of 4 minutes.

Step 3: Waiting. Okay, so any one who's been to an urgent care center expects to wait. As I mentioned, we had a DVD to keep Owen occupied but I was really impressed at how calm everyone seemed. Even the parents. There was a separate entrance for the kid brought by ambulance to the facility but still, no one seemed to be in a hurry. No one was going up to the desk to ask when their turn would be. They just sat and waited. We waited too. For about 45 minutes. Then a nurse came out and to gather some more details about the "incident" and then told us the doctor would be ready for us in a few minutes. Less than a minute later the nurse came to get us.

Of note for anyone reading this who is involved in healthcare in the states, when the nurses would come out to get the kids, they would call the first name and if no one responded they would call out the kiddo's full name. And here I spent so much time over the past 5 years learning about the HIPAA regulations! In France, no one seemed to care about privacy!

Which brings me to Step 4: The examination, diagnosis, and treatment
We were taken through automatic doors into, what I thought would be, a hall of examination rooms. Nope. We were told to put Owen on a gurney bed right next to the door, in the hallway, where the doctor came and looked at him. There were several other similar beds in the hallway. And an examination table in a room off to the left with the doors wide open and I could see an older boy, maybe 6 or 7, lying on the table.

The doctor felt Owen's arm then started telling Owen in French what he would be doing and then started taking off Owen's shirt. Since Owen didn't understand the doctor, he freaked when his arm was touched. And since Owen was crying so loud, neither Sean nor I was really listening to what the doctor said. And then the nurse tried to take George (Owen's Lion wubbanub soothie). Owen grabbed George, crying hysterically, and repeating, "Owen take him away"). Sean and I could not figure out why the nurse, who seemed so nice, was being so mean. But then we noticed that Owen was holding onto George with his left, injured hand! Clearly, the doctor had already fixed Owen's arm and was making sure that everything was in order! Literally, we were there for less than 5 minutes! When we noticed that his arm was better we told Owen and that made him stop crying and look at his arm. It was really cute. He kept saying, "Owen's all better". Then the nurse handed us Owen's shirt.

This was all done in the hallway. After we had Owen's shirt back on, the doctor told us not to pull too hard on a child's arm. That he should be fine but we could give him doliprane (tylenol) if he seemed to be in pain. I've been telling Sean not to pull Owen up by the hands since Owen was born so I can't really explain why I have started playing this way with him now other than he always laughs and wants more. But not anymore! The official diagnosis was Nursemaid's Elbow, or at least that's what Sean and I came up with from an internet search since the doctor didn't tell us a name. All he said was "yes" when Sean asked whether it was the ligament.

Step 5: We're free to go?
The doctor spent all of 5 minutes with us and then abruptly leaves with the nurse to go see the next kiddo. We sit on the gurney for a minute, not sure whether we can go. Remember we haven't paid anything yet. So, Owen and I go out the Sortie (Exit) door and Sean goes back to the waiting room to ask the lady at the desk if we can go. We're given the all clear and we leave. We didn't pay a single cent but we also didn't show a useful piece of identification. So, now we're waiting to see if we get a bill or anything. I'll keep you posted.

In the meantime, Owen is a totally different kid! As we go up the stairs to the car, Owen wants to run and hold toys in both hands. When we get to the parking lot, I tell him to take my hand to cross and he grabs my hand with his left (previously injured) and pulls me across the street at full speed. I, of course, have images of a relapse just outside the hospital doors but Owen is fine. And happy. And, really, that's the most important part. Thank goodness we trusted our instincts and took him to the hospital instead of waiting to see how he felt in the morning. It wouldn't have gotten better on its own.

We spent almost as much time getting to and from the hospital as we spent there! I have to say, it was quite a good experience as far as hospital trips go.

Since, I still feel immensely guilty, we spoiled Owen by letting him finish the Cars DVD at home while eating dinner. And now that he's asleep, I'm trying to soothe myself with a glass of wine. And an early bedtime.

An urban park extraordinaire

2010-03-19T13:35:00.000+01:00

Last weekend, we ventured out to Gradignan, another banlieue (suburb) of Bordeaux. An assistante maternelle (literally, mother's assistant, these women belong to a professional organization of nannies and are licensed to watch 2-4 children at a time) that I met told me about the Parc de Molineau. This is a big urban park with a mediatheque (a multimedia library), running/biking trails, and La Maison de la Nature (literally The House of Nature, more about this later).

It was a beautiful pre-spring afternoon! Although the directions I found on Google Maps took us a long way around, it's only about a 15 minute drive from our house. And we all had a great time!

Outside the mediatheque there is a field of statues. We all enjoyed playing here:

Next, Owen and Sean through rocks into the river on our way to the parc animalier and aquarium:

I am definitely adding this park onto our list of tour stops for visitors. Gradignan is a very kid-friendly and organic-friendly ville.

Spring has sprung

2010-03-18T14:16:00.000+01:00

As spring approaches, we are starting to see the true beauty of living in the observatory park. Here are a few pictures of the flowers and trees that surround our house. We have irises:

Daffodils:

Plum trees:

And GIANT mimosa trees:

Close-up details... it's really an impressive tree!

Now, we're just anxiously awaiting to see what M. Chatelier will plant/has planted in the HUGE garden. We know there are fraises (strawberries), lettuce, radis noirs (black radishes), and oignons et ails (onions and garlic) but there is still a lot of earth left...

Ridin' in Style: Version Francais

2010-03-14T11:21:00.001+01:00

Bordeaux was named one of the most bike friendly towns in France. So, even though, technically, we do not live in Bordeaux, but in a suburb called Floirac, Sean was very excited for our shipment from Colorado to arrive. Because buried amongst the 50-some-odd boxes of toys, clothes, pictures, and other material items ( which we thought we'd want/need in France but didn't seem to miss in the 4 months that we were separated) was Sean's bike!

So, in anticipation of having Sean's bike reassembled, we bought Owen a new bicycle seat. We miss the bike trailer (see Ridin' in Style from 2008) but it just isn't practical in a place where many people seem to drive too fast and the bike trailer is still a new concept. We are definitely not in Boulder anymore.

Sean finished putting the bicycle together and we installed Owen's bike seat. The boys just left for a test ride. So, literally, hot off the presses, here are the first pictures of Owen in his bicycle seat. Taken within the last 10 minutes:

More culinary adventures

2010-03-05T17:01:00.000+01:00

After posting about Sean's quiche, we went on a baking spree. Well, I guess most people wouldn't call it a spree but we baked cookies and zucchini bread in the same week! For people who know us, this is pretty impressive.

First, we celebrated the Jewish holiday of Purim a week early by making Hamentaschen with the Hedelts. The cookies were DELICIOUS!

Then, a few days later we decided to make zucchini bread. Owen used to eat zucchini (courgette) but they have fallen out of favor so we had some left over.

Uncle Max Monkey looked on while Owen mixed the batter. He is Owen's new stuffed animal from the Antwerp Zoo. Bought for him by Marisa's uncle Max, Owen chose the name for the stuffed animal all by himself.

And the best part about zucchini bread is that Owen liked it a lot. I'm looking for recipes for spinach cake or something next so Owen gets his veggies. :)

Sean makes QUICHE

2010-02-21T23:40:00.000+01:00

This post could also be titled "A Post for Cathy" :)

We're finally in our new permanent house (fleas and all but that's another blog post) and we have internet!! So, thanks for your patience and now, I promise, more regular updates from Bordeaux. We've been internet disabled for 4 months so we have lots of catching up to do but I thought I'd start with a quick post about something I know you are all drooling to hear about... French culinary adventures a la Raymond.

So, here you go... Sean's attempt at quiche. He made it for Owen's birthday though Owen only ate the crust (which was store bought). If I recall, it was a quiche aux legumes (veggie quiche) with mushrooms and courgette (zucchini). It was delicious!

We followed it up with a birthday dessert of galette des rois (literally flat cake of the kings). It is a special round cake that is eaten on the 12th day of Christmas in France (Jan 3) to celebrate the Wise Men arriving in Bethleham. (Though, I have to say, it's mid-February and I still am seeing them in the store). It's super sweet and you normally hide a small toy somewhere in the cake. The person who gets the toy in his or her slice gets to wear a crown. Owen got a candle in his slice instead.

YUMMY!
Marisa

ps to Cathy: Sean continues to perfect his recipe so that it's ready for you when you come visit. :)

Laundry Week

2009-12-06T11:25:00.000+01:00

In France, "Laundry Day" takes on a whole new meaning. It can literally mean an ENTIRE day of doing laundry. And not because we get our clothes any dirtier here. Laundry day is the result of two-hour long wash cycles and an itty-bitty washing machine. In Colorado, our washer/dryer unit did not allow for the dryer and the washer to be running at the same time. So, we are used to long laundry days. But, even with this limitation, we could do 4-5 loads of laundry in a single day. And, unless we only did laundry once a month, we rarely had to do 4-5 loads at one time. In France, however, this is quite typical.

We have a fairly modern washing machine at the Maison Mercure, our temporary house. There are 12 different cycles to choose from. First, there are the hot cycles for whites. The shortest of these cycles, which heats the water to 90 degrees C, takes 2 hours and 17 minutes. My towels are washed at 60 degrees C, a cycle that can take 1 hour 40 minutes. At 40 degrees C, it takes 1 hour 18 minutes to wash my colors. Jeans and other cold-water clothes can be done a whole lot quicker on the "Time For You" cycle (30 minutes).

Then, like most French homes, we do not have a clothes dryer. So, there is the fun task of hanging the laundry on racks to dry. This isn't really a time-consuming task (though, I can think of better ways to spend this time) but it is space-consuming! Those clothes racks are BIG! And, unless it's a sunny day when I can put the racks outside, racks of clothes can fill my living room. And, indoors, it can take at least 24 hours for clothes to dry.

And to make the tedious task even more daunting, the feat of drying clothes indoors takes on a whole other strategy with a curious toddler around. Owen loves clothespins. Last year, he delighted in pulling them off the drying racks if I left them hanging on. This year, a little older and a little more mischievous, Owen likes to pull the clothespins off the drying rack while the clothes are still attached. And, if there is no clothespin, who cares! He’ll just pull the clothes off. It’s especially helpful, actually, when the clothes are dry and I want help putting the clothes away. Owen pulls the clothes off and helps me organize them into piles based on ownership. But when the clothes are still wet… well, then his fun is just a royal pain in my you-know-what.

So, I have been spending the last few weeks (and several loads) trying to perfect the system. I think I have it down now. The first laundry load gets started on the way out the door in the morning. Owen helps load the machine, we turn the 2 hour cycle on and go out for a few hours to play or shop. We come home for lunch and then Owen goes to take a nap. During naptime, I take the laundry out of the machine and hang it on the rack. Then start the second load. Owen usually wakes up as the second load is coming to an end. He helps me carry the wet clothes to be hung and I let him play with the unused clothespins while I hang the second load. We wait for the clothes to dry overnight. The next day, I get Owen’s “help” with putting the clothes away. The remaining loads are saved for another day. So, I tend to do 2 loads at a time so I never get to finish "all" the laundry in a single day. Laundry day has become laundry week in France. But, really, there's always going to be more laundry so what's the point in trying to get it all done in one day anyway?

Week 2

2009-11-15T14:49:00.000+01:00

Sean got home from the Vatican surprisingly early on Tuesday. We thought, because his flight was scheduled to arrive around rush hour on the night before a bank holiday (Armistice Day), the traffic would be monstrous coming back from the airport. Everyone in Bordeaux complains about the traffic on the rocade, the highway that goes around the city. And we had our share of experiences with the traffic last year. But, for some reason, everything went smoothly and Sean was home much earlier than expected.

The weather on Wednesday was rain, rain, and more rain. Owen and Sean played in the puddles outside our house at the Observatory. In the afternoon, we took Luis (a new post-doc at the Observatory from Chile) and his wife, Elise (an American!) to Auchan for some shopping. Auchan is like the French version of a Super Target – a gigantic supermarché where one can purchase anything from tomatoes to televisions. And, in addition to Auchan, the complex is home to several other stores, a café, and a hair salon. Despite it being a holiday – or maybe because it was a holiday – the place was packed!

On Thursday evening, we ventured out into the city to meet the Bordeaux-USA club. The club meets every Thursday evening at their headquarters right in the heart of the city. This week was quiz night. We had so much fun! The people are incredibly friendly and welcoming. There was a good mix of French natives and Anglo/American natives present. The trivia questions were quite interesting, ranging in topics from literature (who was the last American and the last Frenchman to win the nobel prizes in literature) to film (movies directed by Quentin Tarantino) to geography (which presidents appear on Mount Rushmore) and politics (of all the US presidents since 1981, which one was right-handed). Our team one thanks to the Sean’s vast knowledge of Serge Gainsbourg songs and Asterix books. And Owen held up his sunny disposition thanks, in part, to a seemingly endless supply of popcorn provided by the club. We will most likely be attending their Thanksgiving feast in a few weeks.

Other than that, the week has been pretty quiet. We got cell phones on Saturday – that was exciting! We went to Auchan and But we are still trying to figure out how to get our email to work on the phones so it has also been a bit frustrating. Facebook seems to work so at least we can update our status and let people know how we are doing. :)

Words of the week:

un jour fèrié - holiday

volaille - poultry

gésiers - gizzards. Despite how appetizing the duck meat looks in the package, if it says gésiers on the package, do not be fooled - it will be tough and crunchy.

Rainbow over the River

2009-11-15T14:43:00.000+01:00

Week 1

2009-11-11T14:09:00.000+01:00

The trip to Bordeaux was not uneventful but was nonetheless a success. Despite near-blizzard conditions, the movers arrived when expected, as did Salvation Army. We sold our condo and returned our car. Owen did not get a chance to say good-bye to all his friends at daycare since the school was closed due to the snow on his last day. Nor did we get to say goodbye to many of our friends. Though, in truth, I hate good-byes so it was probably easier for me emotionally.

There were some minor delays with our flights – a broken jet-way in Denver, needing boarding passes and having to check Owen’s stroller at Charles De Gaulle airport in Paris– but we managed to make all our connections with only some minor stress-related sweating (mostly on my part) and running through terminals. The cab driver that picked us up in Bordeaux, Jackie, knowing that we were moving permanently and therefore would have baggage, brought his big car. Our stuff (6 suitcases, 1 stroller, and a carseat) barely fit. I had to direct him from the backseat on lane changes since he couldn’t see his passenger side-view mirror.

The Maison Mercure, our temporary house for the next three months has been upgraded with new furniture in the living room – new couches, light fixtures, coffee table, TV table complete with a multi-system TV, new bedding, and new locks. But nonetheless, it still looks the same – same twin beds in every room, same wallpaper, same peeling paint in the bathroom, same lack of internet or phone. So it has been quite easy to make the adjustment.

We arrived on a Saturday and by Monday we were feeling quite settled. Bags still need to be unpacked but that’s more out of laziness on our part – and the fact that we will be packing them again soon when we find permanent housing. Owen had some minor jet lag that lasted a few nights. Sean and I shared the twin bed in Owen’s room to help him with the transition. We went downtown to the Jardin Publique on Wednesday to check out the bus to the tram option versus the car to the tram option. Mostly so that I don’t feel pressured to drive the Saxo with its manual transmission. And, of course, we went to Auchan (think Walmart in French) to stock up on the necessities that include Honey Nut Cheerios, Nutella, wine, Giovanni Rana pasta. We even managed to find chicken hot dogs and fish sticks so hopefully the food transition won’t be too difficult for Owen.

On Thursday, Sean left for six days in Vatican City for a conference. Owen and I are on our own and we’ve been here less than a week. Fortunately, there is another new astronomer, Pascale, who moved here in September from Germany with his wife, Jasmine, and their 8 month old daughter, Amy. Phew! Another foreigner with a baby and an apartment with internet! Jasmine has already found several child-friendly activities on this side of town. On Thursday afternoon, Owen and I met Jasmine and Amy at La Maison du Soleil. Basically an indoor play gym for 0-6 year olds. They also have an outdoor area with tricycles and wagons so Owen was in heaven. Jasmine and Amy go every Tuesday and Thursday afternoon and Owen and I will join them. On Friday mornings, Jasmine takes Amy to a different indoor gym, Le Ludotheque. Owen had a blast here too. No outdoor area that we saw but they have a train table among lots of other toys. These places seem to be known only to a few and not well publicized. Their websites are only in French (probably why I couldn’t find them during all the googling I did) and even Valentine didn’t know about them and she is due with their first child in a few weeks so has been doing lots of research about baby-related things. The best part is that these places are FREE! We’ve been here a week and we have health insurance and free indoor play space for Owen. Gotta love socialism for some things. Some bureaucracy is not so good. For example, we still don’t have cell phones because you need a bank account to purchase a phone (even the pay-as-you-go kind). And opening an account is not as easy as going into a bank and saying, “here is some money, please open an account for me.” You need documents with proof of employment and address, plus our passports, then we have to wait several days to receive the bankcard and check book. Apparently renting an apartment and buying a car will be a task too but we’re holding off on those at least until Sean returns from Italy.

Ok, so new feature of this blog is the “Word(s) of the Week.” Owen and I (and Sean too to a certain extent) are learning new words everyday so I thought I’d share my favorites. Normally these will be listed on the side but for this first week, I thought I’d post them below too. My words this week are:

Paille – straw (as in the kind you drink with)

Assouplissant – fabric softener (this is a good one to know since we don’t have a dryer and, therefore, no dryer sheets with which to soften our clothes)

Bain Moussant – bubble bath

Owen’s words (aka the words I am learning for Owen’s benefit) this week are:

Tractopelle – backhoe loader. This is a very important word to know.

Montgolfière – hot air balloon.

Manchot – penguin (not to be confused with the French word, penguin, which, I’m told, are like manchots but can fly. I’m no polar bird expert but maybe penguin is a puffin?)

Nounours – teddy bear

Chariot – wagon

Back to Bordeaux

2009-11-11T14:00:00.000+01:00

I can’t believe it’s been a year but, here we are, back in Bordeaux. Sean was offered a permanent position at the Universite and, despite my insecurities we have returned. I recognize that my lack of enthusiasm the first time around was primarily due to my self-inflicted hesitation to explore the city solo with baby in tow, lack of friends, and poor language skills. Like last time, I am starting this new adventure in the role of a stay-at-home mom – this time, with a walking, talking, energetic, one nap a day toddler. In our three months in France last year, I found two public playgrounds. Neither had age-appropriate equipment for a 9 month old. At the time, I don’t think Owen minded so much. He was just as happy with a cut-up cardboard box to use as a tunnel. But at almost 2 years old and used to spending all day outside at daycare in a yard full of toys and climbing gyms, Owen can’t seem to get enough time at a playground. Rain, sun, or snow, he wanted to go to the playground near our house everyday in Colorado. So, I am exceptionally nervous to find things to do with a toddler in Bordeaux. And I have to say that a search of the internet, granted it was done in English, did not ease my fears. Virtually nothing comes up other than references to the Jardin Publique, the site of one of the previously mentioned playgrounds.

So, here we are. Back in Bordeaux, temporarily in the same internet- and phone-free house as last year (this time there is a TV, though very few functional channels). But I promised myself and Sean that I will not suffer the same, depressed fate as I did last year. For the sake of my son and my own sanity, I want to make this experience as great as it can and should be. In telling people that we were moving to France, not one person said, “oh that stinks. I’m sorry”. Instead, we heard, “take me with you” or “I’m so jealous. How exciting!” And that is just the kick in the pants I needed to shake the blues off and jump in this time with high hopes.