Saturday, December 18, 2010

AND THEN THERE WAS ZED: A BIRTH STORY GONE SLIGHTLY AWRY



From moment one, I wanted a natural birth. No drugs, no interventions, no doctors and NO HOSPITAL. A full on tree hugging, green, fuzzy, give birth in the woods while unicorns unite in a birthing circle of wondrous rainbows gleaming from all the creatures of the earth culminating in a beam of light spiritual experience I could hold in my heart of hearts forever. Over the summer, I mentioned to FB a story I read where a woman leaned on a walking stick throughout her birth. It made me think of wizards and lasers. FB immediately went on a vision quest into the Burgundy woods, found a sapling tree, cut it down and hand carved me my very own 7 foot long birthing stick, varnished and everything. It was beautiful and I was Gandolf. I practiced spinning it on the lawn while chanting...."BRING FORTH THE SPAAAAAAAAAAWN!" (insert lightning bolts)

And thus I sailed through the second trimester, feeling like a million wizard bucks until around the 7th month of pregnancy when I began to feel severe pelvic pain if I moved. As in, moved at ALL. My midwife and the sonogram confirmed that my baby was, in fact, a rather LARGE one and was currently in a posterior position (head down but turned around the wrong way) and therefore pressing on my pelvis. Whatever, I thought. I'm American with German and Dutch roots and I have size 11 feet and I am POWERFUL. None of the men in my family dip below the 6 foot tall mark and besides, I am NINJA. And a WIZARD. I am a NINJA WIZARD. And if anyone could turn this baby around, I COULD. Duh. Talk began of "he might be a 10 pounder" and even though I began to have serious issues making it up and down the 104 steps to our apartment nor could I walk more than a block without searing pain in my groin, or even turn over in bed without crying out....undeterred I marched on, knowing in my heart that I could, in fact, get this big baby out naturally.
No one could tell me any different.
No one.

I spent months reading copious amounts of natural birthing books, doing yoga and practicing deep breathing. I bought the Hypnobirth CD series and taught myself to self hypnotize every day...I followed Ina May Gaskin's guides to the letter, got into my spiritual place early on, talked to my baby every day about what a magical birth he and I would take on together in a field of wild poppy dreams of greatness. After watching The Business Of Being Born, I decided I wanted to home birth but was finally deterred by the fact that we live in a tiny 7th floor walk up with no room for a yoga mat to be spread out, much less a birthing pool and a midwife and some unicorns. In the end, I found a birthing center in Paris with a pro-natural team of midwives and OB/GYNS (WAY harder than I thought it would be to find) and decided that was about as close to the woods I was going to get. C'est la vie. So even though I would end up giving birth in the hospital/clinic they worked out of, at least I trusted the process would still be drug and intervention free. I would just bring my birthing stick and my cape to the hospital, exclaim "PREPARE THE ROOOOOOM!" (insert more lightning bolts) close my eyes and go to the Inner Earth place in my mind. To top it all off, a few weeks before giving birth, I was sent this birth video of a theatrical natural birth complete white curtains and candlelight, ancient songs, poetry in multiple languages and a couple of cats hanging out in the foreground. RIGHTEOUS! I added candles to my hospital bag and wondered where I could rent some cats.

My fairytale birth was WELL on its way.

Then December 7th came.
THE OVERTURE
For most of the pregnancy, I had been obsessed with this date, I knew something would happen on the 7th. In the week leading up to it I started to have practice contractions and felt a sense of excitement looming in the near distance. I vigorously cleaned the apartment over and over, I cooked enough vegetable curry to feed an army and spent hours rolling back and forth on my newly purchased birthing ball telling the baby to turn his fat butt over while watching shitty American TV shows and ignoring the fact I could barely move from the pelvic pain. He was near......and so, as my eyes popped open on the 7th, I knew immediately that I was in early labor. The contractions were still mild enough to do housework throughout but I sensed a pattern starting. I skyped with NY friends and family all day and each time a contraction came, I laughed through it with a giddy feeling of FINALLY this show was on the road. FB and I watched movies all night and as the contractions got stronger throughout the night, I tried to get some sleep as I knew it would be tomorrow. He's coming tomorrow. BRING FORTH THE SPAAAAAAAAAWN!! (CHOOCHOO! lightning bolts)

December 8th
THE SNOWSTORM
After a rather sleepless night, I woke up in the middle of a painful contraction that wrapped around my back like a vice. Whoa. Um.....THAT was uh....intense. I tried to sit up in bed but the pain was too enormous and for the first time, I got scared. What happened to those nice funny little contractions of yesterday that made me laugh and dream of rainbows and ponies? Oh no....did I get this all wrong? Do I have no idea what is in store for me? WHERE ARE THE RAINBOWS???!!!! WHERE ARE THE FRICKIN' PONIIIIIIIES?!!!!!!! Okokokokokokokokokokok....I calmed myself down and decided to settle in for what would be a very. long. day.

For these purposes I had made three birthing music mixes:
1. FOLK/GET SPIRITUAL
2. WORLD/GET INTERNATIONAL PRIMAL
3. U.S. of A. /GET FULL ON DANCE PARTY

I switched back and forth between these three mixes all day while trying to go into myself and become some semblance of Zen. But it was getting harder and harder. Despite my efforts over the weeks, the baby had refused to turn and I was now in full back labor which can best be described as this...think of the spot at the bottom of your spine where all those sensitive nerve endings meet up. Now think of it like a giant gong with a bullseye in the center that a vindictive ogre with a sledge hammer hits as hard as he can every 30 minutes, then 20, then 10, then 5, then 4 etc. Then imagine the pain radiating around your entire body like a giant wave each time that brings you literally to your knees and takes your breath away. Stand up. Repeat. Nerves. Vindictive ogre. Sledgehammer. Knees. And on and on and on....on a hot tip from my massage therapist friend, FB started applying counter-pressure on my sacrum during each contraction and for a while it all seemed doable.....especially when the aforementioned scientist husband graphed a contraction chart in real time while carefully timing out each one...I seriously love this man, WHO DOES THIS???!


But then the snow came.
First a dusting, then heavier and heavier until the afternoon where it became clear it was not stopping anytime soon and this was, in fact, a full on snowstorm (I found out later this was the first one of this magnitude in Paris in 25 years). When they shut down the buses and the trains at rush hour, I knew we were in trouble as our clinic was across town. Paris is not like NY where you can get a car service or taxi any day, any time, any weather. Paris is Paris. She shuts down at the first sign of trouble and leaves you to hang on your own. As I had been previously warned about NOT calling an ambulance service or the fire department should I be in labor due to 45 minute paperwork processes, untrained drivers, unnecessary episiotomies and the biggest fact that they would only bring you to nearest hospital, not the one I was registered at across town....we thought if we waited until after rush hour we might have a better chance at getting a taxi. At 10:00PM I could take no more. My midwife awaited our arrival at the center and FB began the taxi cab calls.
His face said it all after the first call.
Nothing.
Not one company picked up the phone.
My list of carefully put together numbers yielded 0.
Okokokokokokokokokokok.
Think about the unicorns, the ponies and the rainbows.
What would a ninja wizard do?

We decided to just grab the delivery room bag and get out of the apartment, make our way to the main boulevard and try and find a cab there. I knew if I was moving, I could ward off the labor. I put my mind in "TRY HARDER" mode, shut down my labor as best I could, got my coat and shoes on and headed out into the snow. For me, this was actually the easiest part of the night, trudging through the ice and snow 1/2 mile up to the taxi stand in St. Germain des Prés. I had to stop a few times to go through a contraction but the icy air felt good on my face and at least we were MOVING towards the hospital. Everything was doable again. Until.....

THE TAXICAB FIASCO A.K.A. PEOPLE ACTUALLY DO SUCK
As we got to the taxi stand, my heart lifted a bit as there were people waiting. FB explained that I was in labor and could I please have the next cab. No one said yes or no, they just ignored us. Thanks friendly people of the 6th arrondissement! (insert massive eye roll) After waiting a few minutes, I spied a cab letting people out across the street outside the famous Café de Flore and told FB to run for it. I ran across the street after him holding my giant belly yelling (in French) "I'M IN LABOR, I'M IN LABOR!! PLEASE GIVE ME THAT CAB!!" I arrived just in time to have two young men cut in front of me, get in the cab, slam the door shut and give me the "too bad for you" shrug as the cab sped off.
I could not believe what had just happened.
I stood there stunned for a second but then survival mode kicked back in.
OK.
I get it.
People SUCK here.
We moved a bit down the street towards the metro and started discussing whether I could make the 45 minute trip with a change of stations as I spied another cab coming up the small side street next to the café. It was free.
"RUUUUUUUUUUUUUUN!!!!!!!!!" I shouted to FB who took off after it.
I sprinted waddled after him and my eyes widened in horror as I saw three women in their 50s who had been waiting at the taxi stand across the street ALSO sprinting for it. These women KNEW I was in labor and they SAW me running for it and STILL, they went for it anyway. They beat us to the cab and got in. At that point, something in me snapped. Something primal and bigger than myself. That cab was MINE and those bitches were going to GET THE HELL OUT OF IT. NOW. I can safely say this is the first act of maternal love I acted on, where NOTHING in the world could have stopped me from getting my baby safely to the hospital. IN. THAT. TAXI. As I approached the cab, I threw myself on the back door and started pounding, screaming and crying as loud as I could (in French) "I AM IN LABOR! I NEED THIS CAB!! WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME?? WHAT KIND OF PEOPLE ARE YOU???!!! REALLY???? REALLY??!!! YOU ARE SAYING NOOO??? I AM IN LABOR!!! I AM A PREGNANT WOMAN IN LABOOOOR!!!!!" It was Oscar worthy and it caused the kind of public scene and humiliation I had hoped for. The women finally BEGRUDGINGLY opened the door and proceeded to argue with us saying "Just call the firemen!! Why should WE get out of the cab?? It's not what taxis are FOR!", etc. etc. As if THIS weren't enough, we then had to talk the taxi cab driver into TAKING us to the hospital as she started arguing that she didn't want problems, didn't want me to give birth in the back of her cab, etc. After FB pleaded with her and she was satisfied I wouldn't "cause any problems", we were allowed in and FINALLY took off for the hospital.

(I will take a small pause outside of my usual KFD banter here....honestly, I can't find anything funny or witty to say about this incident because two weeks later it STILL angers me to the core and brings me to near tears to think about that night as I cannot imagine ANY situation whatsoever that I would NOT let a woman in labor take a taxi at night during a snowstorm....none. The fact that I found TWO sets of people within minutes of each other who had no problems doing this makes it really hard for me not to question the quality of people in this area or make huge generalizations about Parisians. I will try and do neither but suffice it to say, we are moving to Montreuil in February and no one could be happier to say au revoir to tourist central Paris than me). OK back to it....

THE HOSPITAL
11PM
Upon arrival, the baby's heart rate was checked, all was good. Then I was checked. Fully effaced but only 1.5 cm dilated and baby is still posterior. My heart sunk a bit but I convinced myself that it was because of the taxi fiasco and I must have managed to shut my labor down completely. So, we were left to continue laboring and I focused on opening up. I was safe now, no more traveling and I could really go into myself and make it happen. The contractions started back up heavy and though we were both exhausted and I had not really eaten all day, we continued the cycle of Nerves. Sledghammer. Counterpressure. Knees. Repeat....

1AM
3 1/2 cm dilated. YES! Progress. But baby is not turning. At this point, my midwife gives me the best advice so far. "The pain is bigger than you. You are fighting it through each contraction, try and let go into it." And so I changed my mindset. FB laid on the floor and took a nap and I laid on the bed and let myself go into the pain. These few hours I will never forget...truly transcending pain, it was as if I was floating above myself and the more I let go, the deeper the experience became, my only thoughts were holding hands with my baby and walking him into this world safely. It felt as though I had spent just a few minutes but also an eternity in this state when I finally looked up at the clock.

4AM
3 1/2 cm dilated. OMG. NO. Labor was stalling out and the baby was not only posterior but his head was not tucked to his chin but was instead straight so each contraction, his head was being pushed into my pelvic bone instead of my cervix. My heart sunk and I knew I was losing steam. I had been in unmedicated back labor since the previous day and I could not take much more of it. My midwife and I discuss the possible next step of an epidural and an oxytocin drip to make the contractions stronger in the hopes that it might make the baby turn. At the very suggestion of these medical processes, I felt nothing but doom and gloom and a sense of total failure....how could all my ponies and unicorns abandon me? I was a ninja wizard with no staff and no nunchucks and suddenly I felt very, very small. The pain of the next contraction plowed into me and I cried for the first time. My midwife was amazing at this point, talking me through it and then giving FB and I time to discuss our next steps and come to terms with it. We decided I would take the epidural as by numbing the pain a bit, it might give me more steam to keep laboring. Shivering and trying to stay calm, I got the epidural injection and the oxytocin drip. I knew the next step was the dreaded C section but I focused all my thoughts on the last chance of turning him around and making his head tuck. Pleeeeease baby, turn, pleeeeease. I will buy you twenty ponies if you do....

6AM
4 cm dilated and I am totally out of steam. The word "Ceasarean" is mentioned for the first time and I feel knives go into my soul. I did NO research whatsoever on C sections because I was THAT SURE I was NOT going to have one. I am deathly afraid of the knife and the thought of being awake during a surgery is enough to send my soul into a blood curdling scream. Tired, hungry, sick from the meds and distraught, I agreed to a C section and my OB/GYN began the preparations. The only thing that made me feel better was seeing FB in scrubs and calling him Dr. Boulé.

8AM
The surgery room. It feels about 0 degrees in here and I am naked and on the verge of a panic attack as they strap me to the table. My French is gone, looooong gone. While a dozen people hover around me speaking in tongues as far as I am concerned, I focus myself on not barfing in my own mouth or screaming...small victories with every passing moment. WHERE IS FB??? And why is this male nurse talking to me when I clearly have no idea what he is saying??? I make a mental note that I really DO NOT EVER want to be abducted by aliens because this is what it must feel like and frankly, I can't think of another situation that blows more, not even my 8th grade prom. FB arrives as they put up the paper curtain that hangs in my face so I can't see what they are about to do to me. He tries to make me feel better by telling me we are about to meet our son but I can't get my mind out of alien abductions. As the doctor feels around my abdomen, I realize...I CAN FEEL HIS HANDS. In my panic, I feebly say....help, I can feel that but hardly any sound comes out. He is feeling around more and it suddenly dawns on me.....I just walked off the anesthesia. When in a full panic, I have no doubt I could walk off horse tranquilizers and before I can say any more, I feel a sharp, searing pain in my belly that sends me jerking from the table as my voice regains itself in full force..."I CAN FUCKING FEEEEEEL THAT!!!!!!!OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!!!!!!!!!" and I let the full panic in. Suddenly, there is a mask on my face and I am being told to breathe deeply. I stare in horror into FB's eyes and breathe in and out and in and out.......alien abduction, alien abduction.....

9:20AM
A RECOVERY ROOM
I wake up. I see a few hospital staff wheeling in a small boy of 4 years old or so who is moaning in pain and no one I know in sight. My head is killing me and my abdomen is on fire. Where am I? Where is FB? Wait, WHERE IS MY BABY????? I try and get up to no avail and am told by a male nurse something in French but I can't understand...where is my baby??? I say over and over....they say something and leave me alone and I feel I am going to die...did something go terribly wrong?? What happened?
This is my official hell.
A nurse comes in to tell me that my midwife is on her way to me and that everything is fine. They wheel me down the hall, I am crying an ocean of tears the whole way until at last, I see FB and he is holding a crying baby.
OUR crying baby.
Zed Emile Boulé has made his way to us at last.
I see him for the first time and suddenly, nothing else matters to me in the world.
My son is here.
On my belly.
And he wants to eat.
I cry with FB.
I cry with Zed.
I just cry and cry and cry and cry until I laugh and hold him close to me and promise to always take care of him and feed him cheeseburgers.

THE EPILOGUE
I didn't get the natural birth I wanted. Not even close. I got a dubbed version of Rosemary's Baby with no subtitles. But I got Zed and he's a fat, happy healthy baby with blue eyes and a smile that slays me. And for that, I'd do it all over again a million trillion zillion times.
Because in the end, I AM a ninja wizard.
Welcome to the world, Zed.
We're gonna have fun.
That's a promise.

34 comments:

Keith Eckstein said...

Congratulations Dana - and how cool is it to have a kid called Zed?

Slightly too much detail for me (but I am just a simple man!) but I think you are odds on winner for the Childbirth of the week award over at http://www.atasteofgarlic.com next week and, unless anyone else can produce a sprog in the next few days, you'll probably get Blog of the Week Award as well!

All the best and hope all is well with you and Zed - hope FB is looking after you.

Keith

KFD said...

Aw thanks Keith!! :)

Karin (an alien parisienne) said...

I laughed.

Oh my GAWD, I laughed at that video of the natural OM birth, and hell yeah, I watched the whole f*cking thing!! That cat!! LMAO! That chick rocked at giving birth, though. *RESPECT*

And then I got PISSED at those f*cking taxi people, god*amn stupid, %£µ*+@ asshats! Grrrrrrr!!!

And then I was terrified when it came to the c-section. But I also nodded a lot.

"I was a ninja wizard with no staff and no nunchucks and suddenly I felt very, very small." *nods*

And then I honest to gosh cried at the end when you got to hold Zed. *sniff*

I was SO waiting for your birthing tale and I was not disappointed. Thank you for writing it! I keep thinking you might be thinking, "Who is this freakin' weirdo who keeps showing up on my blogs and commenting like she knows me or something?"

What can I say, I get really involved in reading this stuff. Maybe you have read mine, too, and know that I actually DO have a life, lol, and while I am weird, I am the nice kind of weird, but I just really, really like your blog and I love your approach to writing, and I am so amazed at how you communicated your story. Unicorns and all (*snort*).

As a mom of one 14-year-old and one 5-year-old, I have been through the births. I kinda even lost one wee one about halfway through a pregnancy, and that was a sort of birth experience, too, but let's just focus on the happier ones... I guess what I want to say is, I have been there, and I loved how you wrote the truth of things. Next, "Welcome to the Mom Club." You have been initiated. *hands you your mom wizard's staff* I also have this one piece of advice. This whole birth thing not going exactly how you planned it? Welcome to the rules of the club: it's practically ALL out of your control. I think that is why birth is the way it is. Often very little goes as we plan or think it will, or even as we hope. Motherhood taught me, and those moms who I am friends with I think would concur, that we actually are very, very small when it comes to being a mom, and while there is a lot that is in our power, there is a lot that is not. So, what you have to do is roll with the punches, do the best you can, and have a helluva lot of hope that things work out for the best.

Obviously, in the case of Zed, things eventually did. Yahoo! :)

And I really, really hope those people in the taxi have a bad karma moment in their lives, or a really large unicorn come along and maybe ram them up the....

Okay. Maybe that is a little much. I am sure life will deal with them accordingly, eventually. Asshats. *harumph*

Karin (an alien parisienne) said...

(that's another kind of thing I do -- get carried away in comments. It's all with the best of intentions!!!) :D

Hilary said...

dana!!!! you are a champion, sister. i'm so happy for you. . . and even though you experienced the darker, less evolved, more hateful sides of humanity in the process of bringing this kid into the world, remember that every beginning happens in darkness and that the french are redeemed by their invention of the croissant. good luck with your move and can't wait to meet zed.
xoxoxo

Marlene said...

Incredible story... Amazing... THAT WAS a struggle for life... OMG-OMG-OMG!

You made me cry with my eyes and smile with my heart all at once at the end.

You ARE a ninja. You are gonna be a ninja mother.

notjustanothermilla said...

I laughed, cried, wanted to hug you and most of all, just want to wish the three of you the best!

I'm not surprised by the French. Not one bit... You were in labour and you had to fight for a taxi. Who are these people?!

My biggest fear about giving birth here is suddenly losing my ability to communicate in French (due to pain) and then losing my part in the process. Your midwife sounds lovely.

Best birthing story I've ever read!

x

rose said...

I have been reading your blog for some time (and loooooooove the song French Boy)now, but this is my first comment. What a beautiful birth story. But I am shocked by the behavior of those mothereffing a$$holes! Like Karin, I too hope the fickle finger of fate sends a unicorn or two plowing into their path and rams them up the . . . well, you know!
Congrats to you and FB. And Zed, bienvenue.

jessica said...

Ninjamom!!!!!!! We just read this and raged and laughed and cried with you. We miss you and can't wait to meet zed!!!!!!!! Xoxoxoxox

Graham said...

Congratulations! Zed looks gorgeous. Thank you for sharing your experience; it was incredibly moving.

Wishing you, FB, and Zed all the best from Melbourne, Australia.

Oh, and Happy Christmas and New Year!

Graham and Megan

KFD said...

Thanks for all the nice comments!! Karin and Rose....on a sidenote...when we got into the taxi we found the purse of one of the women who had just left it there. It crossed my mind to just leave it there but I do believe in not returning bad karma with more bad karma so we gave it back to them. Though I do hope they get a taste of their own medicine sometime!! :)

Matthew McCabe said...

Love this story Dana, and you guys. So happy for you both. Can't wait to take Zed on a walkabout :)

Edward said...

I was going to write that I love the story. I didn't love the story (wouldn't that be perverse to love that story). I loved READING about the story however - and your telling of it! You are a Ninja Wizard. True to form!

If you're curious, The Unicorns were, sadly, visiting family in NJ. They are sorry they missed the event. They tried to send Heffalumps, but they couldn't get a cab, either. But all's well that ends well...and here you are with a fabulous son named Zed...YAY.

Jimmy Legs said...

what a harrowing tale! i guess rude new yorkers aren't enough of a challenge so you had to step it up. congratulations on the new kid!

Martin Blink said...

Holy cow! I've seen the best and the worst of behavior in Paris. Usually they balance out somewhere in time. For you, I understand, that day may not come. But what a beautiful baby! Best of luck to all. Amazing!

rose said...

I probably should have been clearer and written what a beautiful after birth story. Hmmm, that's not right. Epilogue! That's the word I'm looking for. The epilogue was beautiful and touching and sweet. And after and through all that you still managed to maintain your humanity and return the hag's purse! They got schooled!

Hanna said...

You're a real survivor, and now there's proof! Glad you're both happy and healthy. xox H

Chelsea Barrett said...

Dana oh my god you had me on the edge of my seat! Those fucking taxi bitches! I can just imagine them now... DAMN that pisses me off and makes me think AMERICANS ARE BETTER. But shhh I didn't say that. Wow, what a crazy journey. Sounds so scary and exhausting but your baby is beautiful and he's got the coolest mom in all of Paris so fucking congratulations I'm so happy for you. I resigned myself a few months ago to the thought of not being able to see you perform for a while, but hopefully it won't be too long before you're back on the scene and with a bouncy little baby cheering you on in the crowd!

Anne said...

Screw the perfect birth stories...all that matters is a healthy baby. Congrats. Plus now you have a story to tell over and over again, and certainly at Zed's wedding.

parisimperfect said...

This was an amazing birth story. OMG. Laughed, cried, jaw dropped open, the works. I've had "bad Parisian" moments before, but yours can simply never be topped. I cannot believe the taxi part. But after all of your harrowing adventures, you have a beautiful baby (named Zed!) and your joy leaps off the screen. Congratulations.

American said...

Just found your blog through Karen. Love the birth story!! Reminds me of that saying "all the best plans..." can't remember the rest. Oops. Congrats on your new baby!

Tara said...

Love your birth story! Zed is absolutely adorable...Congratulations from Texas!!

Hope all is going well with you 3 and that you guys have a wonderfully blessed New Year!

pigletinfrance said...

I just found your blog via A Taste of Garlic and am glad I did! Congratulations on the birth of Zed (what a too cool for skool name!). What a birth story! You had me trembling whilst reading (I am currently 5 months pregnant and up until now I have managed to avoid thinking about giving birth) and what b***ards those Parisians are for not letting you take a taxi!! I cannot believe the world we live in and i don't know if people would be the same here in Lyon but somehow based on recent experiences I think they would :(

I hope you enjoyed Zed's first Christmas and that you're coping okay with the new born and not too tired.

I look forward to reading more about your new family soon.

Amber said...

Dana, you had me in tears -- having done this just a week before you, I feel like I was reliving my own birth story reading yours. I had no delusions that I'd get anything but a c-section (had an Xray to confirm I can never deliver naturally, thus no unicorns or butterflies for me) but it doesn't change the fact that it's terrifying and reading this confirmed for me that i'm not crazy, so thanks for that -- plus, you are hilarious! i'm sorry you ended up with a c-section and I hope that you are recovering well. Those bitches who wanted to steal your taxi will get theirs in the end. Your little boy is adorable and his name is awesome, and I'm looking forward to reading more about your life with him.

Shannon said...

Dana & family,

The simple fact that you're able to take such a heart-wrenchingly difficult night and turn it into something positive, funny even... is just amazing!

I think this is proof that Parisians can be complete DOUCHEBAGS. ugh. Makes me mad thinking about it, if I had been there I surely would have stepped in front of the cab & started pounding on the hood like a mad woman.

I think you both deserve this wonderful baby and all the joy he's going to bring you daily.

Congrats on surviving Paris during the most important night of your lives, & congrats on that beautiful baby!

xx Shan

Jenny Beaumont said...

Dana, that story moved me to tears. Thank you so much for sharing it!

GinaMarie said...

Dana, you freakin' rock. Congratulations on your healthy baby boy!

As for those douchebag asshats with the taxis, I can't wish enough bad things on them. WTF kind of person takes (or tries to take) a taxi from a woman in labor!?!? I laughed and cried at your story, but the part about those taxi-stealers made me as angry as I've been in a very long time. I once had someone in the 6th tell me she didn't know how on earth I could live in the 18th. Wish I'd run into her again--I could explain it quite easily with your mindblowing example.

All the best to you, FB, and sweet Zed!

Spookie said...

I've never posted a comment on your blog before, although I was following and wishing you well with the baby! and I've been checking in here and there hoping all was well. And to see this! My god! I just have to say, I actually cried when reading that the Parisians - more than one person, which I suppose could have been written off as some kind of evil freak if it just had been one person -- that two entire groups of Parisians not only did such a henious, sickening, cold hearted thing as to deny a laboring, terrified pregnant woman transport to the hospital, but that they actually were so ice cold as to chastise you for your temerity in asking for it, look you in the face, and slam the door, leave you on the street in the cold and not care. Your baby could have died because of the delay! You could have died. Delays and complications, etc - time is of the essence in certain situations. I have worked on cases where delays in care led to terrible outcomes and I'm so incredibly happy for you that you and Zed are well. But that does not make up for this happening. I'm horrified and hurt for you that you had to experience this and am literally speechless. I cannot believe another human being could act that way to another human being. And that they are French, who I have always respected and admired. Seriously, you should write a letter to freaking Le Monde or something. Some fuss needs to be made about what happened to you and it should not be just forgotten. It's sickening and inexplicable and inhuman and quite frankly no set of words exists to describe it properly. I don't care if I sould like some overreacting nutjob. It is truly sickening what those Parisians did to you in such a time of need. My beloved French people acting in such a manner! I'm so ashamed of them! On behalf of humanity, I apologize and give you a big hug and send best wishes to you, FB and your sweet new baby.

Sugar Daze said...

Wow! Sorry you had such a sucky ordeal for Zed's birth. It happens sometimes you know? And those French people who stole your cabs? Sucks bigger! You are going to tell this story time and again and I guarantee that it will get funnier. I know my two birth stories have. Congratulations to you and Welcome Zed - what a cool name! Enjoy these first few weeks - treasure every moment - they are gone too fast!

Mani El-Darreiny said...

you realy made me laugh throughout the whole thing, although there was a part where i kind of got worried. but "alien abduction alien abduction" lol, thaat was real funny

coach store said...

The Cardinal was the last team to know for sure that UConn could be beatencoach outlet, because it was the last team to do itcoach store, back in April 2008 when Wiggins led her Cardinal past the Huskies in the Final Four semifinalcoach outlet online.
VanDerveer had almost cracked the UConn code twice since thencoach outlet store. In Hartford, a year agocoach outlet factory; and then in San Antonio for last April's NCAA title gamecoach factory outlet. Both times, Stanford led at the half -- coach outlet onlinethe only opponent to do so during the streak -- only to wilt under UConn's superior firepower.
VanDerveer prepped hard for Thursday's game, watching all of UConn's games as well as her own team's close-but-no-cigar performances against the Huskies.
On Thursday nightCOACH HANDBAGS, Stanford led from start to finishCoach Backpack Bags . Just as UCLA's winning streak was wedged between losses to Notre DameNew Coach Handbags , Stanford bookended UConn's historic winning streakCoach Shoulder Bags , halting it at 90 gamesCOACH JEWELRY .

Michelle said...

Dear Dana,

Firstly congratulations on your wonderful new family - great stuff!

I found your details on your blog, I hope you might be able to help me with my strange request!

I am a Producer working on a television show called House Hunters International which follows English speaking expats in their quest to purchase a house abroad. I am hoping to find English speaking expats to profile who are living in France. I wonder if you or any of your expat contacts might be interested in getting involved?! I would love to find out more about your story! Please find a little blurb about the show below:

House Hunters International is a half-hour program currently airing on the Home and Garden Television Network (HGTV) in America.
The series is designed to de-mystify the international home-buying process by going behind the scenes of a house hunt where buyers and their real estate agents tour 3 homes.

At its core, House Hunters International is a travel show concentrating on the idiosyncrasies of the locales and what makes them special and different.

You can see some examples of the show here:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kh0Q6DYe3QM - London from South Africa (1600 series)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fLmhKEzm5kg - Dubai from Illinois (2000 series)


Please get in touch if you have any more questions about the show. I look forward to hearing from you!

Best wishes and many thanks,

Michelle
Michelle James
ASSOCIATE PRODUCER LEOPARD FILMS
1-3 St Peter's Street, London N1 8JD - +44 20 7704 3300
michelle.james@leopardfilms.com
www.leopardfilms.com

Kristy said...

WOW- you are a super trooper, definitely deserving of NINJA status. Even the most predictable, complication free birth can be terrifying, but you are a champion for going through all that you did. Those EVIL French cab stealing people will pay, don't you worry! So happy to hear that Zed is healthy and perfect- what could be more wonderful. Job well done, Mama Ninja!

lizzieharwood.com said...

Dana, I've noticed your blog through your posts on Message and today read your way harrowing birth tale. Man. Can totally understand your continued ***anger*** towards the dickwads and dickwaddesses who fought you for taxis... there's probably a special circle in Dante's Inferno for them. Then your whole I can feel the C'section stuff was simply awful. That happened to a girlfriend with her 2nd C-section in Japan. Horrors upon horrors but your humour and your joy at meeting Zed have I hope erased some of the darker moments. Keep posting and congratulations to you on your Ninja Warrior birth - you totally Ninja'ed that despite the eventual outcome that you didn't anticipate. It's very often the case with babies and exiting mummys etc.
Enjoy and take care,
Lizzie