This week's menu (at school for Andrew)

Lundi 28 septembre:
Gratin de poisson aux legumes - fromage - salade de fruits fraiche

Mardi 29 septembre:
Carotte rapees - hache pur de boeuf - frites maison - yaourt aromatise

Jeudi 1er octobre:
Endives et mais - roti de porc au jus - jardinieres de legumes - fromage blanc

Vendredi 2 octobre:
Betteraves mimosas - cannelloni a la viande de boeuf - fromage - fruit de saison

La Rentree

...or first day of school, in English.

In the midst of all the activity and excitement surrounding Ryan's birth, the start of public school was a little further from my mind than it would have been otherwise. I knew a long time ago that it would be an emotional day for me, but I had been a little preoccupied and slightly sleep deprived, and had not given it too, too much thought...until I pulled into the parking lot on the first day of school. It hit me. My BABY was starting school. Real school. Not daycare, where he can come and go as he pleases, and where there is a ratio of 5 kids to one caregiver. In North America, real school doesn't even begin until approximately the age of 5...what was I doing sending my two year old BABY off to school??? The last two years and 9 months have been, BY FAR, the absolute best times of my life, and now he's off to start school, for the rest of HIS life. There are 25 kids in his class, one teacher, one assistant. He is expected to go to the potty independently, how was he going to manage without Mommy??? Holy moly, did it ever all hit me that moment I pulled into the parking lot. I happen to know one other friend whose children go to that school, though her girls are older than Andrew and therefore not in Andrew's class. Anyway, the moment I saw her in front of the gate, I felt the tears welling up in my eyes...trying so hard to hold them back...and after a few minutes of light conversation, I broke down. Thank God my face was hidden from Andrew when she embraced me, and kindly reassured me that everything was going to be fine. And as it turned out, she was right. After walking Andrew to his class, and hanging around with him (along with the other parents for about 15 minutes), I saw he was completely relaxed and content, and that I was not needed. So I told him I was leaving and I'd be back later, and his response was simply "Au Revoir Maman"!!! (so funny how it converts to French as soon as he is in a French setting now) We are now on the third full week of school, he does not cry when he is dropped off in the morning, his French has continued to improve, he has learned two new songs, and when I pulled out his artwork from his backpack last Friday, he proudly identified the character of the colouring he had done as "Speederman"...aka Spiderman in English!

School hours are 8:30 to 4:30, Monday, Tuesday, Thursday and Friday. (no school on Wednesdays in France) School holidays are two weeks long, and are every two months. Bringing lunch is not an option. He eats lunch in the "cantine" i.e. cafeteria, and is fed very well, and much more gourmet than the peanut butter or grilled cheese sandwich he would otherwise eat at home! I will attempt to post this week's menu in a future post.

Very proud BIG BROTHER

One of my biggest concerns prior to Ryan's arrival was how Andrew was going to adjust to the changes that were about to take place in the family. As it turns out, my fears were completely unfounded...he is the proudest big brother I've ever seen, and wants to include Baby Ryan in absolutely everything. Andrew has always had an obsession with babies, but I was not sure how he was going to cope with our baby, the one that takes some of Mommy's and Daddy's time and attention away from HIM. Well, he is indeed obsessed with this baby as well, which is truly magical to observe, but at the same time, very exhausting as he is constantly on a mission to hold him, pick him up, play with him and can therefore not be left alone with the baby for ONE second! Although his intentions are all good, he is far from gentle. The minute he walks in the door, his first question is "Where's Baby Ryan?" and "How's Baby Ryan doin'?". Adorable...and I'd much rather see him this way, even if it's a bit over the top at the moment, than to see him jealous and asking when the baby is going back inside my belly, like some of my other friends have experienced with the births of their second babies!

The Food

The first photo above is a menu of one of my dinners while in the hospital: a well balanced and very filling meal consisting of vegetable soup, stuffed eggplant (which was delicious), rice, yogourt, applesauce, and of course, a baguette. What really through me for a loop though was the breakfast. I suppose it should not have...I already know the French eat very little in the morning, but I guess in a hospital, especially the maternity ward, where new mothers tend to wake up absolutely famished after hours of labour and no food, I was definitely expecting a more balanced breakfast shall we say, complete with fruit, juice, protein, dairy, etc. What I got every morning was in the photo you see above: two mini baguettes with butter and jam on the side, a jug of water, and a bowl of hot water with which to mix my instant coffee! Since I requested "cafe au lait", I also got a side package of powdered milk to put in it!

Centere Hospitalier Antibes Juan-les-Pins

...or Hopital de La Fontonne as it is more commonly known is where my little angel #2 was born. Here you can see a photo of Room #2111, where I stayed for four nights. Overall, I have to say that it was an amazing experience, albeit very different in many ways from my experience at Wellington Medical Center in Florida, where Andrew was born. To start off with the obvious: the language! Although the doctor (OB-GYN) that I'd been seeing for the last 9 months did happen to speak English, I did not see a single doctor until the second day after delivery. (which I was not aware of...I was expecting a doctor to be with me in the delivery room, though in the end, it worked out just fine anyway). Although I found there were a few words I did not know or recall in french, namely certain body parts or pregnancy terms that are not usually a part of daily conversation!, I managed just fine in French. Robert, on the other hand, generally needed his personal translator (i.e. ME!) after each and every time the nurse/midwife left the room. In the end, it really made no difference at all to me that French was the only language spoken.

The next BIG difference: NO AIR CONDITIONING!!! If you look closely in the photo above, you will see a fan to the left of the bed. Robert actually brought this from home, after our first night of sweltering in the heat. I think we were both in shock when we discovered the hospital is without AC. Since I became accustomed to having the portable air conditioning unit on full blast in our apartment, I thought I was literally going to sweat to death the first night of our hospital stay, when I was still 9 months pregnant, not to mention the fact that the week I gave birth was the hottest week of the entire summer. Antje, a friend who came by to visit, told us that the thermometer on her balcony registered 45 Celsius the day I gave birth! And the poor nurses and midwives, on their feet all day long, working their butts off...at times they looked like they were going to collapse. Why is there no AC in the hospital? We'll never figure that one out. France is indeed very advanced in so many areas, yet in some ways, it feels like we're living in a third world country.

It's a BOY...C'est un garcon!

It was four weeks ago today that our lives were blessed with the arrival of our beautiful and precious Baby Ryan Philippe Chamberlin. In some ways, it feels like it was just yesterday (I know I will always remember it like it was yesterday) yet in other ways, it feels like he has always been a part of this family. It all began on Monday, August 17th, 2009. Robert and I went to the hospital together at 2:00pm for my scheduled, every-other-day check-up (since I was past the due date - 7 days late according to the US pregnancy calendar/3 days late according to France). The midwife hooked me up to the machines, checked contractions for one hour, checked blood pressure, dilation (still 2 cm after one month!), etc. and told us that everything was fine with the baby, but decided to schedule me to be admitted the following day at 4:30pm with plans to induce labour in the early morning of August 19th. However, approximately 6 and a half hours later, after just having tucked Andrew into bed, I began to feel some cramps. When I told Robert, he was already to jetset to the hospital! I immediately told him to hold his horses, and wasn't even sure if it was labour pains I was feeling, as three weeks prior, I had felt some cramping in my tummy which turned out to be nothing but gas! However, as time progressed, and the cramps became stronger and more frequent, I was pretty sure this was the real thing this time and began timing them. They were less than 10 minutes apart. We called the next door neighbour who had previously agreed to watch Andrew for the night, we both took showers, finished packing up the hospital bag, and were heading out the door shortly past 11:00pm that night. The contractions by that point were 5 minutes apart and pretty darn painful! Again, I was hooked up to the machines by the midwife, and since I was still only 2cm dilated, she was not even sure that I would be admitted that evening. After one hour of contractions, SEVERE labour pains (primarily in my back, as expected) and tears streaming down my face, the midwife returned, admitted us into Room #2111 and graciously gave me a shot of morphine! Robert had nothing but a small, uncomfortable chair to sleep in, and I was, of course, in the bed right beside him. Despite the shot of morphine that helped tremendously with the pain, I still felt the contractions all night long, was boiling hot, and did not manage a single wink of sleep. By 5:00am, the morphine had pretty much worn off, and the pain was becoming increasingly intense. So...I buzzed the little nurse button and kindly demanded more drugs!!! I was no further dilated than I was the previous afternoon, but fortunately my cervix had begun to thin out; I could therefore be taken to the labour and delivery room and after another two hours of rather excruciating labour pains, I was dilated enough to be given an epidural! In France, visitors (i.e. Robert) are not allowed to be with the patient while the epidural is being administered (which kinda scared me since my epidural experience with Andrew was not at all pleasant). Anyway, it worked out well, as Robert took that time to go home, give Andrew his breakfast, and take him to his daycare. He was back with me in the labour and delivery room with plenty of time still to spare! The midwife, who was going to be delivering the baby, (and who could not have been a day over 25, but was absolutely fantastic) kept coming in and out of the room, periodically checking in on me in between her other deliveries. I subsequently learned that the midwives handle all of the deliveries with exception to forceps or c-sections, in which case a Doctor would be called in. Anyway, shortly before noon, she let us know it was almost time to start pushing. Once I translated this to Robert (all of the hospital staff were solely french-speaking), we both looked at each other, held hands, and the tears of pure joy trickled down both of our faces. At 12:07pm, nearly 16 hours after contractions began, yet only after a few short minutes of pushing, our bundle of joy entered this world, weighing 8 lbs, 1 oz (3.68 kilos) and measuring 20.9 inches (53 cm). I looked down, asked what it was, and Robert was the first to see..."It's a BOY"!, he so proudly stated!
Editor's note: Robert (who is currently off on his paternity leave) just came in and suggested we go watch a movie. Both boys are in bed, dinner dishes are done, great idea...so, more to come on the hospital experience and the weeks following soon!