The Hubby and I are expecting our first in March. We are stoked/scared. Me, being the OCD person I am, have been making lists and planning this and that.
(I just had to delete a crap load because it started to become a bitch session for how I need the Hubby to help more with the planning, organizing, and generally getting our house ready for a small human to live in, because it sometimes feels like I'm doing a lot of the planning alone. Then, I remember that I'm probably hormonal . Or maybe not. But I deleted it just the same.)
Part of my planning process included signing us up for classes offered at the hospital. Trust me when I say we were signed up way in advance.
We've already taken a breastfeeding class, which was both entertaining and educational. Entertaining because we are pre-adolescents trapped in the bodies of responsible adults in their upper twenties. Although, the teacher's reference to making the baby take "Big Mac" bites would have any one laughing.
But, the actual eight hour prep course Birthing Class was the biggie. Hubby and I arrived at the class early. This was mainly his doing, not mine, since it was at the hospital were he works, and therefore thinks he's "kind of a big deal." We scored seats not in the very front, but close enough where we were going to be able to absorb the information. Although I've already read a bazillion articles, blogs, books, etc. about birthing, I thought the actual practice would make the whole experience seem less scary. Apparently nothing makes shooting out an 8 pound watermelon from your vajayjay less scary.
At one point in the very repetitive first half of class, Hubby and I gave each other the look, as in, "Why is this lady treating us like we are in grade school?" Then, we looked behind us at the rest of the class. I swear, there were at least two 14 year-olds in there with us. Now, I'm sure they will end up being great parents. But, during the Q & A section after the tour of the hospital, when the only question one of them had was if they could bring their X Box 360, I started to have little panic attacks for them.
Overall, we were able to gather some helpful information out of the class, like how to work through the contractions, and to remember that the pain has a purpose. Although, I'm definitely still taking the drugs. In fact, I may go ahead and order this shirt so the doctor remembers.
(I just had to delete a crap load because it started to become a bitch session for how I need the Hubby to help more with the planning, organizing, and generally getting our house ready for a small human to live in, because it sometimes feels like I'm doing a lot of the planning alone. Then, I remember that I'm probably hormonal . Or maybe not. But I deleted it just the same.)
Part of my planning process included signing us up for classes offered at the hospital. Trust me when I say we were signed up way in advance.
We've already taken a breastfeeding class, which was both entertaining and educational. Entertaining because we are pre-adolescents trapped in the bodies of responsible adults in their upper twenties. Although, the teacher's reference to making the baby take "Big Mac" bites would have any one laughing.
But, the actual eight hour prep course Birthing Class was the biggie. Hubby and I arrived at the class early. This was mainly his doing, not mine, since it was at the hospital were he works, and therefore thinks he's "kind of a big deal." We scored seats not in the very front, but close enough where we were going to be able to absorb the information. Although I've already read a bazillion articles, blogs, books, etc. about birthing, I thought the actual practice would make the whole experience seem less scary. Apparently nothing makes shooting out an 8 pound watermelon from your vajayjay less scary.
At one point in the very repetitive first half of class, Hubby and I gave each other the look, as in, "Why is this lady treating us like we are in grade school?" Then, we looked behind us at the rest of the class. I swear, there were at least two 14 year-olds in there with us. Now, I'm sure they will end up being great parents. But, during the Q & A section after the tour of the hospital, when the only question one of them had was if they could bring their X Box 360, I started to have little panic attacks for them.
Overall, we were able to gather some helpful information out of the class, like how to work through the contractions, and to remember that the pain has a purpose. Although, I'm definitely still taking the drugs. In fact, I may go ahead and order this shirt so the doctor remembers.
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ReplyDeleteLet's try this again. Love the t-shirt! It was fun to compare your birthing class story with my brother and SIL's!
ReplyDelete