Childbirth 101

Driving into the parking lot of Beth Israel hospital at 9:40 a.m., you would have thought that everyone except pregnant women with pillows, trailed by dazed looking men, had disappeared off the face of the earth. It was empty out except for the swarm of us mutant women heading toward our weekend-intensive childbirth class. Adam and I made our way to the boardroom, which had hard-backed chairs in a U-shape and pictures of old men staring down from the walls, and sat with our two pillows and blanket on the floor. I couldn't help but notice that we were the only ones who didn't have matching pillowcases on our two pillows. Everyone sat awkwardly in his/her chair as the instructor set up. Our instructor, Nurse Nancy, was a funny, warm woman who would periodically drop her supplies as she was setting up, saying things (as she dropped the "baby in uterus" model), "We don't handle our babies like that."

As the class settled in, we had to pick up a pile of handouts and make name tags. Despite threats otherwise, Adam decided to remain "Adam" for the day. In the pile of handouts was what you'd expect--car seat safety info, a guide to contractions, poison control numbers, a Red Sox schedule. Yep, that's right. A Red Sox schedule. Not only do I have to worry about identifying labor and making it through my contractions, I have to worry that Brown Brown doesn't decide to make himself known in the middle of a Red Sox-Yankee series at home as Fenway is all of maybe six blocks from our hospital. We were advised to head to the hospital a little earlier than we think if the Red Sox are playing at home. We went around the room and introduced ourselves. Out of the fourteen couples there, Adam and I--with the exception of the one lesbian couple--were the only ones to have different last names, which I thought was odd. I also thought it was odd that Nurse Nancy brought in a cooler of ice water (that's not the odd part) and carafes of coffee (that was the odd part). She announced they were there and said, "Although this will already probably be your third cup of the day." Am I the only one who's doctor said to curb the caffeine?

The first thing we had to do was take a quiz in which she described various parts of the female anatomy and we had to write down what they are. Adam, I'm sorry to say, scored only an 80 percent, and I won't embarrass him here by saying he didn't know what the perineum or colostrum is and he didn't know how long the average labor lasted. Adam's response to his not knowing these things was, "I don't think it's fair for me to have to know that," which I'm sure you all know scored major points with me.

Next it was on to relaxation techniques. We started with the coaches (that would be Adam) laying on the floor and doing relaxation techniques so they know what they're looking to do with us (that would be the laboring moms). Nurse Nancy instructed, "Think of a special place, a place that has meaning for the two of you, some place beautiful and wonderful." I don't need to finish this thought, do I? You know where it's headed. Adam grinned and whispered, "I'm thinking of Fenway." When I questioned how that had meaning for both of us, he pointed out that she never said it had to have positive meaning. Harumph.

The rest of the day was a blur of funny breathing, trying out odd positions, and listening to Nurse Nancy say the procedure that shall not be named way too many times. I cringed during all of them. The video wasn't too bad--only a few parts where I couldn't look--although it made me very grateful that I didn't have my baby in the 1980s. All that pain with those hair cuts to boot is just insult to injury. Tomorrow we cover drugs (yeah!) and newborn care.

We ended the day with a quick trip to Costco, where we stocked up on diapers, and Babies R Us, where we bought our car seat. So now, we are ready. We have a way to get Brown Brown home from the hospital, we have a way to catch his poop, and we have the co-sleeper to rest him in. All else is gravy. Bring on the baby!