Childbirth Class

Surprisingly, we had a great day today at our Childbirth Prep Class! Have I mentioned how nice the Day One Center is? I’m easily impressed by things like bagels and cream cheese in the morning, comfy seating, a free book, lots of resources, oh…..and the one other registered couple not showing up, which meant that we had a PRIVATE CLASS with an awesome instructor!

Some fascinating facts that we took away from our class:

1. Great ideas on labor positions. We will be bringing our yoga ball to the hospital. Sean was quite helpful with massage and support while I was “practicing” my breathing. He really knows how to help me relax!

2. 12% of women have their water break. Even once that happens, you can still have some time to gather your things before you go to the hospital. Other than that, many women can labor at home for 6-12 hours before going in to the hospital. Or as Sean said, what you see in the movies about “Oh my god, my water broke, we have to drive to the hospital NOW” is really made for TV. This makes me feel much better, because I was concerned about some very important things. Like having enough time to shower and put some mascara on before leaving the house.

3. OK…..steel yourself for the big one people…..but……I may not want as many “interventions” as I thought I would. Stop laughing. I’m serious! Now I know that I may change my mind, and I know that there is nothing wrong with an epidural or pain meds, and by no means do I give a shit about trying to be a labor hero or what other people think….BUT…..my original plan was to hook myself up to an epidural as soon as I walked in the door. I was also a little bit obsessed about needing an IV/catheter/internal fetal monitoring, etc. considering I’m skeeved out by certain needle-ish things.

NOW…..I think I’d like to see what I can do without an epidural first. I like the idea of being able to walk around, being able to sit on the ball, hang out in the jacuuzi tub, and let gravity help me move forward with my labor for a while. I like the concept of maybe not needing an IV or needle-ish things. In fact, thinking that helps me to breathe a little better right at this moment. I reserve the right to start screaming at people and demand that the anesthesiologist run directly into my room with a big fat needle if I need it. I reserve the right to allow myself to relax with pain meds if I need it, if I want it, or if I just can’t do it anymore. I am not a martyr here. But I want to be able to connect to my body at least in the beginning. To allow nature to do what it’s supposed to. To help my baby to move down by teaming with my friends “gravity” and “nature” (and my husband’s great massage techniques!). Again, this is not a militant feminist thing. This is not a badge of honor thing. I love how a dear friend of mine says that once you’ve had your baby and you’re at the park with other moms, the ones who had natural childbirth don’t get to walk around with a special medal or a big sticker that calls them out as some kind of hero. Really, nobody cares what you did. So I’m not trying for a medal here. Just thinking that I want to see what happens. And who knows. Maybe by the time I feel like I’m about to die from the pain, I’ll be 10 cm and ready to push. Maybe? OK, seriously….stop laughing!

After the class, Sean and I did a little shopping at the Center. He found some great books on nutrition for babies (more on this later). They had an awesome sale on nursing bras and tanks, so I had to take advantage and buy a few things (Don’t worry Sus, we’re still going back together!). First off, let me just say that I was STUNNED by my new bra size! Close your ears if you are a boy, or if you don’t care to hear about boobs. Again. Sorry….my blog, remember? So the lady measured me, with the disclaimer that I was only 35 weeks and would still grow, and then grow again when my milk comes in. Good lord. I measured at a 36 C/D. No biggie. (Hah hah! Pun intended). Then I tried a nursing bra on….and it didn’t fit. Too small. So they brought in the next biggest size….and it was a 36 E/F. F! As in holy FUCK. And it actually fit!!! The good news? They were having an awesome sale, and I bought a pink (I might be preggers, but I’m still me!) nursing tank and a black nursing bra. The F-bomb bra. Both were usually 50 bucks, but on sale for 20. Let’s just say that if Max doesn’t end up nursing for some reason, then I can use these new purchases for a career in strip tease. There’s something hysterically funny about bras and tanks that unsnap in front to reveal one boob at a time. Bizarre. But apparently useful. For nursing, I mean. Not for stripper poles.

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