In the summer of 2019, I had what I thought was a “fun” idea for a story. Paris was about to experience its hottest day ever, and I decided to travel around the city trying out different ways to cool off, to see if any of them actually worked. Reader, it was not fun, and they didn’t help.
Last week, Paris went through its worst heatwave on record—worse than that day in 2019, and worse than 2003, when a prolonged heatwave killed nearly 15,000 people. I now live in Seine-Saint-Denis, the poorest area in mainland France and one of the most vulnerable to extreme heat. To make things more complicated, I’m seven months pregnant. So how did my week go this time?
Tuesday
When I found out I was pregnant, my biggest worry was giving birth in summer—many French hospitals don’t have air conditioning and aren’t built to handle heatwaves. I planned to ask about the extreme heat plan at an information session this afternoon, but it was canceled because of the heatwave.
A friend who is a few weeks ahead of me in her pregnancy checked into an air-conditioned hotel with her husband because the heat in their apartment was giving her contractions. They told me the place is full of other pregnant women, though for most people, this isn’t affordable. For all of us pregnant Parisians, the priority is clear: avoid giving birth this week if you can. I’ve rented a portable air conditioner that’s supposed to arrive tomorrow. I’m hoping it will get me through to the weekend, when the heat is expected to finally break.
Wednesday
I have a meeting at the public healthcare office this morning. It’s already 30°C (86°F) at 9:30 a.m., and for some reason, they’re making people queue outside in the blazing heat. But they take pity on me because of my condition and let me in right away. While I’m filling out forms, a woman in the reception area collapses, apparently from heatstroke. “We need water in here!” a staff member calls out as people rush to help her.
A friend who’s away has offered me her desk in an air-conditioned office—a lifesaver. At a nearby childcare center, staff have taped reflective emergency blankets over the windows and are spraying toddlers in the courtyard with a hose. Under a shaded archway, a man has set up his belongings and a mattress, trying to sleep through the hottest part of the day.
The magazine office where I’ll be working is in a trendy converted factory above a modeling agency. This is Paris, where, heatwave or not, it’s somehow always fashion week. The staff look horrified as I lumber my sweaty, heavily pregnant body toward a sign that says CASTING CALL, while slender figures glide past me.
When I get home, I find out my rented air conditioner is delayed. It arrives just after midnight, and I’m too exhausted to set it up properly before collapsing into bed.
Thursday
The air conditioner doesn’t help. I’m letting in too much heat when I crack the window open for the exhaust pipe, which cancels out any cooling effect. When my partner gets home from work in the evening, he manages to install the window kit that I was too tired to put together myself, and the temperature finally starts to drop a few degrees. Hallelujah, I can work again.
On social media, no one can talk about anything but the heat. A new father in Bordeaux shares a video from a maternity unit: it’s 36°C inside the hospital, and a healthcare worker has collapsed from heatstroke. Across Paris, there have been 25 heart attacks in 24 hours.
Friday
I spend the morning indoors with the shutters down, then head back to the magazine office for the afternoon. People in the park across the road sit listlessly on shaded benches. It’s 38°C (100°F).There’s no breeze, but every now and then, a splash from the fountain offers a tiny moment of relief.
If I see one more photo of a young man doing a backflip into a canal, I’m going to scream. When the media covers this apocalyptic week, I want to see the homeless woman, also seven months pregnant, living on the streets of the 11th arrondissement. I want to see the children sent home from school because their classrooms aren’t safe, and the hospitals that can’t take care of their patients. This is what the climate crisis really looks like.
Emergency services report 109 deaths in 24 hours in Paris—a figure that’s usually around seven at this time of year. In the west of the city, a bus driver collapses from the heat and crashes his bus into a tree.
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A couple seek shade in the Jardin des Tuileries, Paris. Photograph: Apaydin Alain/Abaca/Shutterstock
Saturday
My body has given up. I wake up in the morning aching all over, with cramps in my legs.
In the early afternoon, I try to stay cool in my local park with my dog, who’s still with us and seems to be the toughest of us all. We stick to the shade wherever we can. My new neighborhood doesn’t have air-conditioned “refreshment rooms” in government buildings for vulnerable people to cool off, like every town hall in central Paris now offers.
Instead, I take shelter at the movies (Disclosure Day: 3/10, cinema air-conditioning: 10/10).
By the end of the week, health authorities report 1,000 deaths in France over three days. The unthinkable number of toddlers who have died in hot cars is now four. Drowning deaths have reached 74.
When I last wrote a diary like this in 2019, I felt a nagging anxiety about global warming that never really left me. But now, I feel nothing but pure anger.
The homegrown fossil fuel company TotalEnergies made a profit of €5.8bn (£5bn) in the first quarter of 2026, and the AI lobby is pushing the EU to drop its already weak climate goals to focus on building data centers. The city authorities have put some measures in place to cope, but it still feels like those in power are leaving us to our fate. And yes, even pregnant, I’m still one of the lucky ones.
“We cannot adapt to a heatwave that has no equivalent in Europe today and has never had an equivalent in our history,” French President Emmanuel Macron said on Thursday. He may not have to wait long for that equivalent—forecasters are predicting another wave of extreme heat next week.
Frequently Asked Questions
Here is a list of FAQs based on your experience written in a natural tone with clear and concise answers
General Background
1 What was the Paris heatwave like in terms of temperature
It was brutal We saw several days in a row where temperatures hit 42C or higher with no cool breeze at night The city felt like an oven
2 Why is being pregnant during a heatwave especially dangerous
Pregnancy raises your core body temperature and makes it harder to cool down Youre also more prone to dehydration and heat exhaustion which can be risky for both you and the baby
3 Was it hard to find air conditioning in Paris
Yes Most older apartments in Paris dont have AC Public spaces like museums and some shops do but you cant stay there all day It was a constant challenge
Practical Management Tips
4 How did you keep your apartment cool without AC
I used a combination of blackout curtains a portable fan pointing at a bowl of ice and I kept the windows shut during the day I only opened them at night when it was cooler
5 What did you wear to stay comfortable
I lived in loose lightcolored cotton dresses No bras no underwear that wasnt cotton I also kept a damp cold washcloth on my neck and wrists
6 How did you stay hydrated
I carried a huge 15L water bottle everywhere I added electrolyte tablets to my water twice a day to replace what I was sweating out I also ate a lot of watermelon and cucumber
7 What was your goto meal during the heat
Cold meals only I ate a lot of Greek yogurt with berries cold pasta salads and baguette with fresh mozzarella and tomato I avoided the oven and stove completely
8 Did you go outside at all
Only early in the morning or late in the evening I walked slowly and stayed in the shade During peak hours I stayed inside
Common Problems Solutions
9 How did you deal with swollen feet and ankles
I put my feet up on a stool whenever I sat down
