Knowledge is Power...NOT

As the pregnancy progressed and it became frighteningly clear that Colt and I really were going to be responsible for a little person, we decided to sign up for a new parents class. It was a four-week course, which met on Saturdays and would cover labor and birth, breastfeeding, and newborn care. We were both looking forward to learning about what to expect. Testimonials on the group's website included things like, "this class totally put my anxieties to rest," and "my labor and delivery went so smoothly and I know it's because of what I learned in class," etc. Of course, I thought "sign me up!!!" I was also excited for Colt to learn about newborn care. I have ZERO evidence to back this up, but: I was convinced that Colt knew nothing about babies and would possibly cause serious harm if left alone with the baby. This was a real concern for me considering I'll be returning to school shortly after giving birth and Colt will be left alone with baby for several hours 3 nights a week. 

This rarely happens, but it turns out I was wrong. Colt handled the class like a champ, was actively involved with the discussions, asked questions, etc. (He only embarrassed me once when responding to a question about how to naturally induce labor by eagerly yelling out, "sex!!")  I, on the other hand, repeatedly glanced at my watch, cringed and looked the other way during birthing videos and swallowed my own vomit when the class instructor brought out a stuffed placenta (think stuffed animal, not stuffed pork chop). For reasons unknown to me, she insisted on swinging the bluish purple prop, complete with umbilical cord and netting ("baby's home!"), in our faces while taking a little baby doll, folding it in half and shoving it in the netting and pulling it out....over and over again.

Somehow I managed to remain seated and keep my mouth shut through this torture...right up until this same overly-cheerful instructor went to pull out the vacuum and forceps (described as "huge salad tongs!"). I was mid-leap out of my chair and heading out the back door of the classroom when Colt grabbed my leg and forced me back into my seat. Apparently the others noticed and decided they could wait until the end to see the tools, that might not EVER be used, outside of my presence.

I guess that's my problem. Why tell/show me something horrifying that might not EVER happen?!? I'd much rather just know the basics and deal with the other stuff if and when it comes up. Of the 10 people in the room, I was apparently the only one who felt this way. Curiously, the others encouraged the process by asking asinine questions. There was one woman in the class who I'll call Nelly. Nervous Nelly. My goodness, she made my blood pressure roar. Just looking at her stressed me out. She always had this awful look of absolute panic on her face.

We had a lighthearted conversation going on the first day about the four most common fears of labor and delivery: peeing, pooping, puking, and pain. Everyone was laughing and joking about how poop means progress (you're using the right muscles to push!) and there was Nelly with that awful look of panic streaked across her face - see above. The class instructor noticed and thought she must be really horrified by the thought of pooping on the delivery table. Just as she was about to address those concerns, Nelly shrieked, "Those aren't my fears!! I'm afraid of giving birth to a STILLBORN!" Talk about taking the life out of a party. Each class featured some manifesto like this from Nelly. Our personal favorite came during the last class when the instructor was quizzing us on natural ways to induce labor - see Colt's "sex!" comment above - and nipple stimulation was mentioned. Nelly slowly raised her hand and looked around the room with the look on her face before sheepishly asking, "what exactly do you mean by nipple stimulation?" Complete silence fell over the room. Colt and I looked at each other and simultaneously mouthed, "how the hell did she get pregnant?!?" I would love to be a fly on the wall when she gives birth...well, not really. But I'd love to hear about it later, from the perspective of the labor and delivery nurses. Ha.

While Nelly was slowly coming to grips and I was using every ounce of will power to stay in attendance, Colt was learning a myriad of new things. The guy who a year ago wasn't so sure he wanted a kid, who didn't know the first thing about pregnant women, learned from our very cheerful and overly informative instructor that he could "catch" the baby. We had previously agreed that he would stay up at my head throughout the entire process. He had no desire in seeing anything below the belly and I certainly had no interest in him being down there. In fact, his BFF - a father of 3 - specifically told him, "Do not look. You will never look at your wife the same way again." Nonetheless, Colt learns he can play an active role and is now ready to suit up. 

The above diagram was drawn by the Artist Guy, Todd Schaefer. 

Check out www.theartistguy.com to see more of his work, none of which is as disturbing as this.

I'm trying not to stress about this, hoping that he'll pass out long before baby makes her grand entrance. But I have been wrong once before... People keep telling me I just won't care in the moment - that I'll be naked and screaming and won't give a hoot who's in the room, above or below the belly - but I wonder how well these people think they know me... Only time will tell. 

I have 11 days until my due date. I was in labor and delivery, hooked up to fetal monitors for 4 hours today, due to high blood pressure. I will now go in twice a week for monitoring. If my blood pressure spikes again, we will talk about inducing.