Nous attendons un bébé!

Thanks to the magic of Facebook, most everyone knows by now that we're expecting a baby this August. It was so heartwarming to hear the kind words from our friends around the world, and we are tremendously excited to become parents. Being pregnant is definitely a strange new experience for me, but it feels doubly strange because we are trying to navigate it in a foreign country. Today I thought I would share a little about our experience so far of being pregnant in France.

I'm pretty sure all French babies look like this

First of all, I've had to learn a lot of words in French that would not have otherwise been on my vocab lists. The French word for pregnancy, for example, is rather repugnant.

Grossesse 

Ew. Grossesse? It's like "grossness". And even better, it comes from the word gros, which means fat or large. Grossir is a related verb--it means to fatten up. 

Sure, it's a pretty accurate description of what happens during pregnancy, but for women who are sensitive to the dramatic changes happening in their bodies (let's be honest, we're sensitive to just about anything these days), calling it a "period of fattening up" was probably not the best choice of term. I bet anything some insensitive man came up with it.

In contrast, the etymology of the English word pregnancy is much more polite. The latin simply meant "with child" and "before birth". I'll take pregnancy over grossesse any day.

If you can read French (or want to use Google Translate), here's an amusing post about how terrible French words are regarding pregnancy and childbirth.

Learning the French health care system

As Rory and I are generally quite healthy, when we moved here, I was hoping to avoid French doctors as much as possible. There's the language barrier to start, and then the fact that I was completely unfamiliar with the system of socialized health care they employ here. It's quite different from the British National Health Service (NHS) too, so Rory didn't really know how it worked either. Needless to say, when we learned of the pregnancy, my doctor-avoidance plan went out the window and I started researching like there was no tomorrow.

Here's what we've learned. In very basic terms, one goes to the doctor in France, pays for the visit out of pocket, and is reimbursed for usually a significant percentage of the cost by the sécurité sociale. People also take out mutuelle policies, which are like top-up health insurance plans that will cover what the government doesn't. (We don't have one yet...and you thought figuring out insurance was hard in English!) Nonetheless, it's a pretty reasonable way to do things, and it ensures that people can get excellent health care without an enormous pricetag (I'm looking at you, America). In fact, in a "2000 assessment of world health care systems, the World Health Organization found that France provided the 'close to best overall health care' in the world."

I can testify thus far that my care has been perfectly adequate. I found an OB/GYN within walking distance of our place who is friendly and competent. He even speaks English and does the ultrasounds himself (both unusual for doctors here). I pay him in cash at each monthly visit, and I receive a receipt which I send to the securité sociale offices for reimbursement. At least, that's the plan--I'm still wading through bureaucracy to get myself registered with social security, so eventually I should be reimbursed.

That's a very quick explanation of the French health care system as we currently understand it. I'll share more pregnancy- and French health care-related stories with you in future posts, but I'll leave you with these three wonderful features of grossesse in France that almost make up for the terrible word:

1) All maternity expenses are 100% covered by the government from the 6th month onward.
2) Women and families receive financial support from the government once the baby is born (up to a certain income level).
3) Paid maternity and paternity leave actually exist in this country.

As an American, these things are music to my ears.