Welcome to the US of A

1 Sept 2024

I’m now a citizen of the United States of America! My parents and I drove the 5 hours to Marseille (a milestone adventure in its own right, more soon) to make an in-person appearance to declare my birth, order my passport, and get documentation of my rightful citizenship. Without that, I wouldn’t be able to make a visit to CA when the time came (likely holidays 2024). 

The process looked like this: gather a whole bunch of paperwork proving my parents are US citizens; drive through hot and dry Provence, stopping to feed me and change my diaper thus making a 5-hour drive more like 8; spend the night in a charming Marseille hotel; show up at the US consulate at the appointed time; lift me up to the plexiglass window when the nice US consular says “may I please see the baby” and watch as he stamps the official application “baby seen”; marvel as my parents raise their right hand and verify they are, in fact, citizens of the United States; and voila! I was declared a US citizen, too. (My passport will arrive in a couple of weeks)

My mama even teared up a little when she signed on the line for “Mother” - she said that after the journey she’s been on to bring me into being, she doesn’t for one second take for granted that title. Oh, mama. 

But back to me and my citizenship. Until this day I was a stateless entity: no citizenship anywhere! Contrary to prevailing belief, I am not immediately granted French citizenship just by being born in France. Fun fact: the US is actually rare on the world stage to grant birthright citizenship. So in the eyes of the French State I existed but wasn’t a citizen. In the eyes of the US, I didn’t yet exist. So a pilgrimage had to be made.

It wasn’t all bureaucracy and official signatures. There were also some marvelous Mirabelle Milestones! For one, mama and papa went out to dinner at a real adult restaurant for the first time since I was born. They tanked me up with breastmilk, strapped me on with the Moby wrap, and walked to Sushi Room restaurant. Mama had sashimi for the first time since pregnancy, and she said plain dead raw fish had never tasted better. 

But the milestones don’t end there: I slept in a hotel crib — a first. I also went to bed at 9pm — another first (before then, I kept mama company until 11pm. I never quite understood why she kept sighing ‘this night owl child will be the death of me’.) And mama had her first glass of wine in over a year… hooray for pumping! But I’ll save that story for another time.

For now, let’s just celebrate that I can cross borders! A baby with a passport is a baby on the move. 

Bisous et bonne route !
Mirabelle