Getting Ready

During the days leading up to Louisa's birth, I had a number of overdue blog entries rattling around in my head. There was one about cheese (perhaps the best culinary aspect of life in France) and one about the brocants (neighborhood yard sales), but heading the list was a post about getting ready for Louisa. I wanted to talk about the incredibly small footed sleepers that my mom and I had collected, about our due date confusions (the French put the due date at 41 weeks while the American due date is at 40 weeks) and the formidable packing list that the hospital gave us (would she really need a wool sweater?). But most of all, I wanted to head off premature excitement by saying that we really weren't expecting Louisa to arrive until well after my American due date of September 28.

What were my reasons for thinking that Louisa would take her time? Well, the most logical of the bunch was that Maria was born ten days after her due date, and she came only after some work on the part of the midwives. Surely, Louisa would be late too. Then there was the fact that I didn't have swollen feet and could still push the stroller up hill to our local grocery store--surely the inertia of late pregnancy was yet to come. But my real reason for thinking that Louisa would be late was denial pure and simple. I just didn't feel ready.

Thank goodness these things have a way of happening in their own time, despite our notions of preparedness! Louisa was born on Sunday, September 25th at 19:51. She weighed 3.52 kg (8 lbs 2 oz) and measured 51 cm (20 in) long. She's a lovely little pip; Our cup of joy runneth over...

I'm going to save Louisa's birth story for my next entry. Right now, I want to share a few pictures from the days leading up to Louisa's arrival.



I began this drawing many weeks back. It's now framed and sitting on a shelf in the nursery. It will probably also be the first drawing in Louisa's baby album. Do you see that it's Maria reading a book to her soon-to-be born baby sister? Maria's favorite toys are listening in. I hope to do a second drawing to pair with this one. Maria has requested that it include a train.





One of the chores of the week before Louisa came was washing all of Maria's 0-3 month clothing, along with all of our new acquisitions for Louisa's layette. In the interest of saving electricity (we don't pay for it, but we don't want to ire our kind landlords), I hung most of it up to dry. Our apartment looked like a gypsy encampment for for a couple of days. There's a special pleasure that comes with hanging such tiny garments, even if it does take up a lot of space.






Vive le brocant!

Our landlord, Roland, (a wonderful character whom I hope to intoduce to you at length) gave us heads up on two brocants happening in our area. Brocants are communal yard sales. They're big events, complete with musical entertainment and fair food. Brocants are especially wonderful because they happen here, in this old country. When people clean out their closets in France, they find the usual modern clutter (novelty mugs and broken toys) but they often also find beautiful, old things: mismatched tea cups, hundred-year old prints, saint medallions left over from a pious aunt. They sell these thing at a brocant table for a couple Euros a piece. After all, space is precious. Turns out that the flea market eclectic look that you find with a hefty price tag at Anthropologie and in the pages of decorating magazines is quite affordable at the brocants.

As are baby clothing. Which is great because we've found that in France, baby clothing is quite expensive. The Carrfour (we think of it as the French Walmart) sells baby sleepers for 10 Euros a piece--pretty hefty when you consider that it will only be worn for a month.

Maria was a summer baby and spent most of her first months in Gerber onesies so we didn't have much in the way of cold-weather clothing for the 0-3M sizes. Furthermore, the hospital gave us a detailed list of what to bring for the baby (it is standard in French hospitals to bring clothing for your baby), and it included 6 sleepers, a wool sweater, a cotton sweater, a hat, bunting, wool socks, and more. The two brocants we visited went a long way in filling the gaps in the hospital list.

But more importantly, the Paliseau brocant, or rather, my intense desire to visit every table at the Paliseau brocant, kept me on my feet for about six hours on Saturday, the 24th. We theorize that it was this unusual exertion that broke my water and brought Louisa into the world the following day.

One last picture:



There are my two loves on the evening before Louisa's birth. Donnie is reading a book on his smart phone---probably the Adventures of Sherlock Holmes, the same book he would read to me during the early phase of labor. It's wonderful to see how these ordinary moments string together, and bring us to the watershed events of life!

Smile, You're On French TV

We have a friend who has the habit of getting into adventures.  He'll meet someone for the first time at a restaurant and be invited to play with tigers the next weekend.  His stories have plenty of interesting characters, chance-encounters, and pyrotechnics.  We've often mused over how he manages to get involved in so many tell-worthy things.

"Well, part of it is just that he's Brian.  The other part is that when someone comes to him with an idea, he just says 'yes'."

That was Donnie's explanation.  I think this may have been in the back of Donnie's mind when Science Accueil, the organization that helped us find our apartment, called saying that Channel 3 was doing a story on them, and would he be up for an interview?  He just said "yes."  Another story to tell.

So, Donnie's Friday afternoon was spent with three people from French TV.  He answered questions and took part in staged "scientific" discussions with his boss.  I spent the afternoon wondering if a tv crew would really be descending on our tiny apartment.  You see, it turned out to be a slice of life piece, and they wanted to meet Donnie's wife and daughter and see his apartment (the one that Science Accueil found for him).

What do you do to prepare for a tv crew?   Donnie said they'd come between 4 and 6 pm, but that was all I knew. I hid our more unsightly clutter, put out a fresh table cloth, and put on a bit of makeup.  Maria was in her pretty periwinkle dress.  Around 5pm they arrived.  The crew consisted of two friendly Frenchmen, both named Daniele, and a serious-faced woman named Florance who was so slight that she looked like she would break under the weight of her camera.

The first thing they wanted was footage of us walking around town and going shopping.  We took Maria out in the stroller and tried to act naturally as the camera trailed us to our local bakery.   Our neighbors startled at the sight of a film crew, and we actually held up traffic as the camera person rode slowly in a car beside us.  The girl at the bakery seemed tickled to be on TV, but several of the customers saw the camera, turned tail and left.   We felt a little awkward to be keeping our neighbors from their evening bread and were giddy with the attention. After buying two baguettes we returned to the apartment, where we drank water and mopped our brows--the day was unusually warm and humid. They interviewed us about our impressions of France.  We had only positive and rather vague things to say--we've been here over a month, but it doesn't feel that way because no one else was here during the month of August!   They filmed Maria drawing.  They filmed me peeling some apples.  They left.

So that was our little adventure with French TV--not exactly tigers, but a good time nonetheless!  The show is due to air on October 4, 22:40.  We'll try to get it in digital form to share.

Lovely and Local

It's a wonderful things to be a tourist and see famous things, but it's usually the places and sights that are part normal life that stay with us and remind us how lucky we are.

Here are are a few pictures taken about town in Orsay.  

The first are from our local church in Orsay Ville, the Church of St. Martin and St. Lawrence.  The Church is a mixture of many different architectural style, but its bones are very old---its construction began in the 1100s. 

We've enjoyed the two services we've attended at the church.  They were very full and had a good number of children in attendance.  I don't even begin to understand the homilies, the priest speaks earnestly and at length.  The cantor has a sweet energy about him and does a lovely job of conducting in solfege so the congregation stays together during the hymns.

 

I wish I had a better picture of this window!  It shows St. Martha defeating a dragon.  It's a beautiful and strong image, and ought to be on the cover about a book on the role of women in the Church.

Below is a house on our street.  See the espaliered pear trees growing against the wall?  There was an  evening last year when Donnie was telling me that trees could be trained and pruned in this way, so that they have a small footprint and get plenty of sun.  It seemed terribly exotic at the time, and now it's just down the street!

 Here's another lovely, local sight.  Baguettes are the new Cheerios.  Maria asks for bread all the time, and usually follows up the request by asking for butter and jam.  If we stop by a bakery, Maria expects a piece immediately--it's the ticket to a peaceful journey home.

Looking Back

We're now in September, which means that it's been more than a month since Donnie stepped foot on a plane to come to France. How quickly time has flown! Had things gone just a bit differently, we 'd only be arriving in France this week!

I've been meaning to make a timeline of events leading to our departure from Pittsburgh. It was an intense couple of weeks with some dramatic ups and downs, and I want to remember them. Those weeks were lesson in gratitude and perseverance. Each ugly logistical monster was defeated by the helpfulness of friends, family, and strangers. Despite our bumbling, we got here in August---and managed to do so without becoming impoverished, loosing limbs, or succumbing to bitterness!

I give you the story of our departure:

July 6th--A great day! Donnie successfully defends his thesis. Of course, he has been working intensely up to this point, and when Dada puts in extra hours, Mama does the same. We know that the move if before us and have packed a few non-essentials.

July 7th--We learn that INRIA (Donnie's employer in France) has sent us the "Convention D'Accueil" at last! This document is one of the main requirements for our visa applications. It's more than a month overdue and we've canceled two earlier consulate appointments because we didn't have the document in hand. Julia goes to the French Consulate's website and discovers that the next available visa application appointment is on August 1st, the day Donnie was planning to leave the country. Calls to the consulate's mainline go unanswered.

July 8th--Julia reaches someone in the consulate's visa department. The situation is worse than feared. Not only are there no appointments before August 1st, but it will take at least a month to process the paperwork, so no leaving for France until the beginning of September. Hand-wringing ensuse. This could mean no salary, no health coverage, and no apartment for a month on top of ticket change fees and the additional cost of buying new (more expensive) tickets. Plus, the certain discomfort of flying while 37 weeks pregnant and the risk of having a baby over the Atlantic. Donnie emails his advisor, our landlord and INRIA. We learn quickly that Donnie can stay on as a post-doc for the extra month, and our landlord will allow us to stay another month---phew.

July 12th--We hear back from INRIA. They are pulling out the stops, but are not optimistic about Donnie receiving the visa in time for his August 1st flight.

July 13th--INRIA asks Donnie to send scans of our documents to the Science and Technology attache at the French Embassy. Meanwhile, Donnie is working furiously on thesis revisions.

July 14th - Bastille Day. The Consulate is closed and our attache contact takes a long weekend.

July 19th - Still no news from the Embassy. Maria has a mysterious fever with no other symptoms.  We're tired from the suspense and aren't sure whether to pack or dig in for another month.   We have a frank conversation---it seems highly unlikely we'll get to use our tickets.  Best to resign ourselves to leaving in September.   We're still nervous about arriving so soon before the arrival of the baby, but grateful to have one more month with Pittsburgh friends, and to have longer to prepare for the move.

July 21st - At 3:30pm Donnie receives a call from the attache. Can we make an appointment in DC the next morning? Donnie says yes. Julia calls Jennie to see if she will put us up the night---she says yes even though she has an early shift the next morning and will need to stay up to let us in. The Wrights' generously lend us their car and we rush off to DC. We arrive in DC at 1 am and are greeted by Jennie.

July 22nd - We arrive at the Consulate at 7:45 am. The day is astonishingly hot. Our appointment goes well. We bum around the Alexandria Mall waiting for the Consulate to reopen to we can give them a self-addressed express envelope to mail us the visas. We leave DC still not knowing how long it will take to process the documents. During the drive home, we receive a welcome call: we'll have receive the visas by Monday, July 25th.

July 23rd - Julia's 28th birthday is spent at work. Donnie heads to CMU for more thesis revision and Julia packs. The Wrights once again come to the rescue and have us over for a dinner complete with birthday cake!

July 24 - Donnie is still working furiously on thesis revisions and we're still in suspense about when his adviser will sign off on them. (As my Dad says, advisers have a way of getting kooky just before their students leave!) Lynn and Kate come over to pack boxes and move furniture.

July 25 - New crisis! Julia discovers that there are no moving vans to be rented within hundreds of miles, if not in the whole country. Luckily, she finds HELP-U-MOVE. The only drawback of the service is that we need to secure parking for an 28' trailer on our crowded urban street. Oh la, la! Brian brings his work truck and Donnie, Brian and Moirin disassemble our couch (which had be sawn in half to fit into our apartment) and bring it to Moirin's.

July 26  - Donnie's adviser signs off on his thesis--hallelujah! We manage to reserve all the parking spaces on our block--thank you kind Pittsburghers! We have our last Movie Night, sans movie. We serve pizza to our friends then ask them to pack. Luckily, we're too busy to become nostalgic--otherwise there would have been mopping to do!

July 27 - Moving Day. The trailer arrives right on time, shortly followed by Brian, who takes the morning off work to help us. Julia packs while the guys move. A little later, Fr. Mike comes with Br. Paul to do more moving. Donnie goes to CMU to pack up his office and take care of some administrative chores. Donnie returns and Mom and Dad Sheehy arrive. Lunch, then more packing and moving. Around 4:30, we're told by someone at HELP-U-MOVE that the driver is on his way to collect the truck and we need to "button it up." David arrives and we spend a frantic half hour throwing things into the truck before getting another call saying the the driver won't arrive until 8pm. At last we finish. We shower and head over to the Wrights' for a farewell cocktail party. It's a beautiful party and we say goodbye to our wonderful friends.

July 28th - The Wrights come over and we pack everything that won't fit in the car and take it to the post office. At last, the apartment is empty except for a thriving population of dust bunnies and a few bits of furniture that friends will remove after our departure. We say farewell to the Wrights and to our dear city and head East.

Thank you from the bottom of our hearts to everyone who helped us move! These transitional experiences teach a person the quality of her community. There were many times when I needed all my energy to keep myself from panicking and Donnie had his hands full finishing his thesis. Meanwhile our friends and family were packing boxes, carrying furniture and doing what needed to be done to get us on our way! We are in your debt.

The Beautiful Market

I'm not very bold, so I didn't take pictures of the beautiful, bright eyed fish or the tiny, plucked partridge bodies at the market this morning. It seemed that I ought to buy something to earn photo privileges--and I'm not up to it yet. So far, I haven't bought anything but fruit and vegetables at the market. I have very little French and wouldn't know how to cook much of what I see at the market. Hopefully time and lesson (in both French and in cooking) will change that,

What I'm really intrigued by are the meat, fish, and cheese stalls. The market we visited this morning in Orsay-Ville (not the neighborhood market we usually visit) had at least three different meat stalls, a stall devoted entirely to poultry, and several for fish. Much of the merchandise was terribly exotic. There were cows tongues, meats mixed with gelatin, mysterious sausages, and what must have been entrails. There were innumerable cheeses with colorful rinds--the only ones I recognized were Camenbert and goat. The poultry counter had tiny game birds that were only partially plucked and looked like they'd provide only two or three tablespoons of meat. The fish counter was a revelation--"so that's what a turbot looks like." It was rather grisly, but also beautiful. We are carnivores after all, and it makes sense that all this artfully arranged carnage should awaken the appetite. I hope that someday soon I'll take home a rabbit or a duck complete with head and feet. I bet it would make a wonderful soup....

We Want Metric!

Yesterday we had our first appointment at the hospital in Orsay. It all went swimmingly, and reinforced our appreciation for French hospitality!

To give a bit of background: Donnie contacted the hospital more than a week ago to ask what we needed to get started. They said that they would send us a registration package. Well, a week passed and no package arrived. Finally, yesterday morning, Donnie was able to get past the hospital answering system and talk with a person. When this person heard how soon Baby is set to arrive, she cried "Oh la la" and immediately got us an appointment for the afternoon. Donnie heard her laughing as she made the arrangements. We've been terribly nervous about jumping into French healthcare so late in the pregnancy, and it was welcome to hear laughter instead of scolding (or, worse yet, a refusal to take us)!

We arrived at the hospital not sure what would be in store. We knew we had to get registered, which consisted of giving a clerk our contact information and telling her that we're not yet signed up for social security. She didn't make any fuss about this, which was a great relief.

Then it was off to the maternity ward where we met the cheerful secretary who was undoubtedly the one who was laughing while making us our appointment. She was very patient and explained things slowly and threw in a bit of English where she could. She also arranged a Monday appointment to meet an anesthetist (it's standard to meet with an anesthetist whether or not you want a natural birth--they want to make sure they can give you an epidural if they need to). At this point, we began to walk out, thinking we had finished our mission--luckily, the secretary saw us,and asked where we were going. Not only was this a registration appointment, but I'd get to see a doctor as well.

Our doctor was actually an intern and looked about 18 years old to me, but she was perfectly professional, friendly and again, very patient. She had a mobile, expressive face--a kind of face that seems more common in France. We went through the file that Magee had given us and translated the information into our new Orsay file. The doctor understood some English and invited me to speak English to her. She even apologized that her English wasn't better! The process took quite a while--I don't think I've ever had a doctor spend that much time with me! It turned out that the conversion to metric was a bit of a stumbling block. We couldn't remember the conversion of feet to centimeters and were pretty iffy on the pounds to kilogram conversion. Our new smart phones weren't much help because we didn't have reception. Finally, we arrived at some numbers that seemed right and the doctor made arrangements for me to get some blood work done and a third ultrasound to determine the baby's weight and size. Then there was the examination, which we went very smoothly with only a few translation hiccups. The great news is that Louisa is head down and all appears to be well.

After the appointment, giddy with relief, Donnie and I went to the grocery store and bought beer and juice to celebrate.

Notes

Last Sunday I finished my first knitting project. It's a collar for Maria to wear in lieu of a scarf. (Those little scarfs do get awfully tight around little necks!) I'm grateful that it turned out to be a wearable garments. There were moments when I thought I probably out to unravel it and start again. When I started, I was in a bit of a frenzy to make something and didn't consult any patterns or instructions. I did most of it in the stockinette stitch, which means that the edges are all bumpy, but I think it ended up working.

There's a little loop of elastic that goes around the button flower and holds it together.

My friend Eva taught me how to cast on, knit, and purl---I'm indebted to her for starting me in what will hopefully become a lifelong hobby. By the way, Eva gave birth to a beautiful baby boy about 12 hours before these pictures were taken. Little Conor is destined for a well-dressed life wearing his mama's beautiful knitting!


Sunday evening, we had Moirin and the Wrights over for dinner. Dinner was grilled flank steak with homemade flatbread with green chutney.

I have little expertise in dealing with large cuts of meat (for budget reasons, we usually stick to chicken thighs and ground beef), but there's a marinade recipe that I'm very fond of. The marinate is a bright green and has a wonderful tangy, herby smell. It makes the preparation almost as pleasurable as the eating!

On Monday, Maria and I joined Lynn and Gracie for some strawberry picking. The strawberries were pretty sparse--we filled about half of the containers we took before the girls needed to stop--but they were oh so sweet and delicately textured. It was hard work, but very satisfying. Berry picking is such a wonderful summer rite! I'm grateful that Lynn asked us along. It was a long trip and we wouldn't have done it on our own.

A little update on Maria. She's been doing a lot of talking. Lately, she has been particularly enthusiastic about the words "button" and "bottle." She's been stringing words together and forming questions "Where da choo choo ball?" (she has a ball with Thomas the Tank Engine on it), and likes pointing out when something is wet ("Mama hand all wet"= Mama's hands are all wet) or finished ("Dada bre all done" = Dad is all done with his food). She's also gotten pretty good at jumping. Now, when she's particularly happy about something, she'll give a little hop to express her pleasure. It's such a joy to see these little developments!