Childbirth class part 4

Today was our last class. There was cake, I didn't have to hold ice and we learned some things. We liked it.

The class began with us splitting into two groups: the girls and the guys. In a competition they tried not to make a competition by allowing any girl who wanted to go over and "help" the guys, we mapped out the steps and symptoms of childbirth. There's no question it was a competition. In this exercise and one later, the girls were all too curious to find out what the guys would figure out for themselves to "help." Encouragingly, the guys did alright! Maybe they'll make it through this childbirth stuff after all!

Surprise visit: a girl from our class who delivered 2 weeks ago (5 weeks pre-term) stopped by with her brand-new baby! We all ooohed and aaahed and were glad we didn't have to pick up the tiny little girl, because none of us has handled anything that small in our lives. But let's take another look at this situation: the baby was born at 35 weeks, and was 5 pounds, 3 ounces. I'll be 35 weeks on Friday. All of a sudden, the baby rivals a whale in size. If Baby Girl is even close to as massive as this preemie, it's no wonder my abdomen hurt all day two days ago. Poor thing doesn't have any room!

I had it re-confirmed that I'm a very squeamish person during the video on c-sections. Last week, I had to look away during the insertion of the epidural. Isn't the point of placing the epidural in your back so you don't have to watch? This week, I had to look away during the cartoon of the c-section. I'm really not so sure this whole birth thing is going to work out. Stork, please.

As I mentioned earlier, there was cake! The instructor was kind enough to bring us a "congratulations" cake. A delicious "congratulations" cake. A mouth-watering, utopian "congratulations" cake. Made of sugar and butter, and not broccoli. With some dismay, I noticed that Matt and I got the smallest pieces of anyone in the class. But I didn't marry a man who doesn't particularly like cake for no reason--Matt sent his over to me (I took it home--Baby Girl had had enough sugar already). When we were all properly sugared up, they handed out end-of-class evaluations.

The class confused us all by ending with a series of "positive" images played to music on a DVD. There were several things wrong here. First, the images were all of women in labor. Last I checked, the class fully confirmed that labor is painful and hard work. Four classes of lamaze-inspired instruction have not yet instilled in me a lamaze-esque exuberance toward laboring, so seeing women in agony was not helpful, and certainly not positive. Second, the music was the song that Napoleon signs to with the Happy Hands Club in Napoleon Dynamite. If you've seen the movie, you can understand how the mood the instructor had tried to create was destroyed, at least in my mind. Matt whistled the song all the way home.

We all received certificates of completion! If we don't frame ours, it might make its way into Baby Girl's baby book, where she will be able to see later that we knew how to give birth.

We were left with two inspirational quotes. One I don't remember, the other was from a child's book about a spider. The spider is worried about having children, but she's reassured that it's easy. Is it just me, or would we not have just taken an 8-hour class if birth were easy?

So are we "ready?" Let's just say I'm still holding out for my good friend, the stork.