Birth Class

But first, I'm feeling a little cranky this morning because I got sniped in an online auction. Bastards!

Saturday was birth class, and about the worst thing about that was the tedium. An OB nurse, and mother of three!, led us through the various stages of childbirth. We got to see a few videos, one of which featured an actual birth, including the delivery of the placenta. We learned that pain is frequently considered a woman's right of passage, and that the 90% epidural rate in Lincoln is just not up to farm girl standards. 

We also learned that this class is not aimed at us. We were told by our sleep-deprived session leader that we needed to trade in the Miata for a more sensible car, quit partying on weekends, quit smoking, and choose more sensible foods. We were then asked to share, as a group, changes we'd made. D and I demurred, noting that we were older parents to begin with. As we went into our first--and only--break of the morning session (and I mean, really? a room of pregnant women, and you're only doing one break in four hours?), the nurse pointed out that there were snacks...Cokes and a variety of cookies. This, after the "eat healthy, and notice that you don't need to add an extra thousand calories a day, and, oh, look how many in this can of Sprite" talk. 

While we didn't get a lot of scary talk that suggested all the new gadgets we should be buying, we did get to watch a lot of unintended hilarity with a knitted uterus and vagina, a molded plastic pelvis, and a Cabbage Patch doll. Very multi-genre craftiness. 

We're thinking about skipping next week's session.  

Comments

[Ellen]

I'd worried for you. I remember the classes that Jay and I were subjected too. "Now remember, as a responsible parent, you need to cut down on the cheese whiz and quit smoking crack."

[Ellen]

to which we were subjected...good lord...can I blame that on a fondness of homophones? My only true excuse is that I've been up since 4 a.m..