Our second night of childbirth class proved entertaining, if not particularly educational (for me, anyway).
The men and women were separated into different groups in different rooms and given the following instructions -- the men were asked to complete the sentence: Since my wife became pregnant, I have felt_____. The women were asked the same thing, obviously about themselves.
I thought this was potentially an opportunity for seven men to hear some really horrific details regarding the apparent complete personality change I've undergone in the last eight months. As it goes, I will never really know what was said, because as my husband claims: "What happened in that room stays in that room."
Which is probably for the best.
The ladies' emotions boiled down to: Oh yayyyy I am pregnant holy shit I'm having a baby I'm so scared. Once we got that out of the way, the women shared stories about telling their husbands they were pregnant. Sheer terror across the board. And then we discussed how dumb other people are. One woman says someone told her yesterday: "Wow, you have really gained a lot of weight in your thighs and your face." We thought of good comebacks: "Wow, so have you, except you're not pregnant!"
Then it was time for what I've really been waiting for: The birthing video.
So, first off, I've witnessed actual birth, and it's just way different watching it live than it is on TV. It's like ... whoooooooooaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa. Whoa. Whoa. Whoa. Amazing. On TV, it's like, aw hell no, vag-close-up, gag, ick, heave. And I must say, The Miracle of Life video from 1983 many of us were shown in sex-ed? Way more graphic than what they showed last night.
So for starters, the pregnant woman had a belly ring. Which, whatever. Yes, it sort of makes me hate her but whatever. Then, she had no stretch marks, which: Yes, confirmed, I hate you. THEN, she had no pubic hair, at all. So yeah. And then she had a natural birth with no interventions, which is really splendid for her, but basically? Just eat poo, lady.
I think there was some major fright among the couples. The woman next to me couldn't even watch the pushing portion, so I told her when it was over. I decided to break the ice during the dead silence afterward by asking when the appropriate time would have been to get the epidural. Still pretty much patting myself on the back for my ingenious comedic timing.
The class wrapped up with some breathing practices and I left wondering how many of these women would end up with cesareans, how many would go natural, how many I'll still be in touch with when this is all over. We learn a little more about each other each time. This time I found out a couple of the other women struggled to get pregnant for years, too, and also dealt with miscarriages. The true value in this class may just be the moral support.