We had our first prenatal class last night. Heading into it neither of us really knew exactly what to expect. I mean we had a general idea of what will be covered over the next five weeks, but not the specifics. Of course that didn't stop D from asking me what to expect and probing for details when I gave generalities. I finally admitted to not having had a child previously and we moved on from the discussion ;)
We showed up a little early for registration. I whipped out the MCP card, provided due date and other personal details and collected the package of books, brochures and handouts we're to take home and read. Then we settled in for a long winter's nap. Or at least that's what I wanted to do in the dimly lit room after a day's work!
Fortunately, there was a lovely, funny nurse delivering the class, so that made me perk up a bit. As she got underway the realities of what's about to happen began to sink in. She shows us all a few Grey's Anatomy like posters and not those of the TV-show variety. I see why I pee so much. There's a five pound melon hanging out on my bladder. I also anticipate breathing to become difficult over the next few weeks as my wee melon reaches watermelon-like proportions and squats my lungs. Nice. Then she shows us a plastic dilation chart. Think small rubber bouncy ball to softball size expansion. Nice. Then out comes the amnihook, which essentially looks like a crochet hook, used to break my water should it become necessary. I'd rather crochet with it thanks. And I don't know how to crochet.
We then get the grand tour of how to make our way to the case room should we arrive after hours, how we go about admissions and how to arrange for a private room. This is when I (not-so) gently nudge D in the ribs. Perk up mister. Pay attention. I'll take care of labour, you take care of getting me that private room. Whip out the credit card and get us on the list. K-thx-bye. Fortunately, he's good and supportive and patient like that and he nods and smiles reassuring me he's already on top of it.
The class wraps up with a video taking you through the multi-staged multi-phased labour experience complete through to the birth. Nice. No, seriously. Even with all the details that I personally would be just as fine not knowing, I trust my health care professionals after all, it is pretty amazing. The biology of it all, how everything that has happened over the last number of months has been purposeful and logical. All preparing my body and baby for birth. And, if you'll excuse me from sounding cliche, it truly is a miracle.
Feeling a little zen about it all, making our way back to the car after class, I ask D what he thought of it the class. His response: "I'm just glad its happening to you and not me". Exit zen, enter laughter. Fair enough sir. I guess I'm just glad God made babies cute. I'm sure was intentional.
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