Mom in France

Everything Sunny

Even here on the Riviera, where the sun regularly shines for days on end,the winter can begin to feel long.  However, it's also citrus season so here's what it looks like at our house.

Our funky wrinkly mandarin tree.  Soon to be marmalade.

One of two potted lemon trees:

The haul:

Which became preserved lemons, Moroccan style:

Boo's new rain boots, which if the forecast is correct, he'll be wearing all next week:

My cheer-me-up kitchen chair cushions:

Which Hospital: Public or Private?

This is the view from my hospital room when Boo was born almost two years ago.  You're looking at the sweep of the Promenade des Anglais along the Baie des Anges in with old Nice in the distance and in the background the jetty of the tony St.-Jean-Cap-Ferrat.  Not a bad view from a hospital. 

It's time again to choose our hospital for delivery (no homebirth or other method for me).  There are two choices:  the private clinic where I gave birth last time which is part of the larger (public) children's hospital or the public hospital in nearby Grasse where most of my friends have gone.

For E, a frenchman, private vs. public is almost a political decision:  support the public infrastructure (which we pay for) and be one of the people and take advantage of the public hospitals' renowned medical abilities or opt for comfort (and competency) and go back to our clinic where I was 99% guaranteed for a private room.

For me, I associate the public hospital with my one experience at Mass General in Boston:  A huge complex of a teaching hospital, teeming with staff and patients, totally chaotic. The attention I received was negligible and it was still really expensive.  Compare that experience with my one (minor) surgery which was held two years in later in Newport Beach, California. My consultation took place in a quiet, calm office and my surgery was in a small, comfortable outpatient facility. 

I visited a friend in the Grasse hospital when she gave birth to her son before I was pregnant the first time.  She was in a room with another person, sharing the bathroom and there were visitors for the other woman as well.  It was a bit crowded in the room and given that my friend was lying in bed after an emergency Cesarean, it didn't seem that restful.  When it came to be my turn all I could think was:  Is there a way to have a single room?

It really came down to that, I'm afraid to say.  My OB/GYN, who does not do deliveries, needed to refer me.  I had to choose.  I wanted to be a good citizen and go to the public hospital, but when I asked him if I could get a private room, he told me that I would have to go to Nice.  That settled it then and there - amenity won out over civic pride. 

A month later, at 7 months, we were in the ER of the Grasse hospital because I was having contractions.  It was one of those stressful moments where I was struggling to hold on to my french and hoping hoping everything was going to be OK.  We didn't know what would happen.  As I lay on the bed, baby monitor strapped to my belly, I was asked administrative questions - who was my doctor, other problems, etc, and, where was my referral file. I had no idea what the nurse was talking about, but it turns out that since I was in between my old doctor and the referral, I hadn't received it yet.  It was the file that would follow me to the hospital on birth-day.  I explained that I was going to the hospital in Nice, and immediately I received scorn:  She asked, why, if I had chosen Nice, was I in the ER in Grasse?  She compared the Nice maternity to a hotel - it's not a real hospital. 

Afterward, when everything was OK, and was home (on bedrest) I had plenty of time to reflect.  I thought, these public hospital people really have a chip on their shoulder.  Her attitude definitely reinforced my decision.

The actual experience was fine.  I had my single room with a view, though since it was south-facing it was hot as hell even in early April.  My new OB was an Iranian pot-head whose patient manner was to try to bond over the Grateful Dead.  He was on vacation during the actual birth.  I was grateful to be close to the children's hospital because Boo spent 2 days in the NICU for a round of antibiotics after the OB identified possible infection.  I stayed my due of 4 days, though in the end it was really a day too long.  I was anxious be home, away from the round-the-clock hub-bub of the hospital.

Since then, I've had more friends go to Grasse (and none to Nice - it's considered far away for most), and all report positive experiences, even with sharing a room.  Should I reconsider?  I have one more month before I have to decide.

Single room & Dr. Pothead (no sea view this time: it will be June and hot)?  Or join the crowd at Grasse? 

Little Boy Lost

I was in mid-write for today's post on hospitals when I spoke to my mom and she told me that my only female cousin, same age as me, as suffered a miscarriage at 21 weeks.  I didn't even know she was pregnant and now she has a little boy lost, who would have been born only a week before my own.

I'm mourning her loss, and grateful for the little boy I already have and praying for the little one still inside.