Yesterday we had our first of five prenatal classes. Or antenatal classes if you’re a Commonwealth mama. Or ANTInatal if you cannot spell to save your life and aren’t thinking correctly, like a certain blog I used to check on occasion used to spell it –with amazing impunity, over and over. I often cherished the thought of leaving a nasty comment such as “what, you don’t WANT your baby to be born or something?” but I realized it would be sarcasm wasted on a brain addled by cricket.
But I digress.
Now, those of you who’ve been down the ol’ pregnancy path might be wondering why we haven’t taken these classes sooner. The answer is fairly simple:
1. We’re cheapskates and a free class ought not to be passed up. That’s $60 we could be spending on anything but commingling with other pregnant couples –with whom, apart from the uterine activity, we’d have nothing in common– and having to watch annoying parturition videos.
2. I am a slacker and when I remembered to sign up, the October class was filled to the gills. In my defense, it was not so much slackerishness as the fact that most people FIGHT to get into the free class early, whereas I waited until I hit week 30 to sign up (following directions… imagine that). So there.
So we grudgingly trod off to our first class yesterday.
And it was actually kind of fun!
I must add that the most fun is perhaps….( and yes, this is really bad…. ) that we get to make fun of other pregnant couples and of the videos as well!!!!!!
I am an awful, awful person, and any opportunity to snicker at dopey questions (“Uh… where do I go to deliver my baby?” or “Do I call 911 if my water breaks?”) is time well-spent to me. Add to that evil disclaimer the addition of my husband’s brand of sarcastic and dead-pan humor and I hope you can picture it:
We were the only couple giggling through a good deal of the class time, in a rather unabashed manner.
Of course, we also earned brownie points with the instructor because we contributed to class discussion and asked good questions (insert comment about us being filthy brown-nosers here, please), and the couple with whom we paired up was really nice, and one of the few that were still due in December.
1. I want a plushie pelvis. If there was one thing that was totally AWESOME during this class was to be able to see the actual-size plushie pelvis thing. Okay… it wasn’t plushie plushie, but I kinda did want to hug it and make it my special friend. I even had a dream about it and stuff. And of course, it reassured me that my girly parts are wide enough to let a child through them– at least in theory.
2. Our class was a veritable UN of mothers-to-be: there were all kinda girls from Europe married to soldiers. It was kinda cute and fluffy, but the Russian chick kinda scared me. Ah yes… there was a Russian chick– whom we’ll affectionately call the Babushka. The Babushka was married to her Boricua Boi, and they made a very interesting couple. I am intensely eager to see what their kid will look like.
3. The video for the Ideal Labor was priceless in that, while being pretty cool and actually inspiring both the Monsieur and I to try some of the crunchy techniques and closeness that it displayed, also provided countless opportunities for making fun of it. Ah….. they say laughter is the best remedy. Maybe I can request a copy to watch during MY labor.
4. We all learned an INCREDIBLY DISTURBING piece of trivia at this childbirth class. WARNING: If you are grossed out easily, STOP READING!
Now, I am not the squeamish type and I pride myself in keeping an open mind and being educated about my body, so please don’t think that I gross out easily here. So you will know this is serious when I tell you that a horrified and mildly nauseated hush fell over the room when the childbirth educator told us that we should ….
TRY TO FEEL OUR OWN CERVIX.
“That’s right,” she joyfully chimed in. She encouraged us to stick our pregnant fingers UP our pregnant cooches and feel for the os (or opening) of the cervix. “Please don’t try to push a finger THROUGH the os, however,” she cheerfully admonished. Then she turned to the class and asked, “Has anyone in here felt their cervix?”
The Babushka was up and cheering. She wanted to know more, so she could reclaim her labor as hers and avoid being strapped to fetal monitors and an IV drip before the magical 4 cm had been achieved.
The rest of us crossed our legs as best we could and tried to think of bunnies, puppies, and kitty cats –all frolicking and playing cutely in a land far, far away, where no one ever told THEM to stick their paws up their vaginas.
Now the rational part of me knows that this is most likely okay and is more usual than not, and that girls who use diaphragms or buy O.B. tampons have done it before (yet there IS a reason why I like tampons with applicators) I also realize that feeling your own cervix probably isn’t nearly as bad as having a man’s gloved hand do it for you…. but I still cannot QUITE get over the whole image. I seriously cannot wait to find out what lies in store for our next class.
And just because I’m a nice person, I am leaving interested parties with a few links on how to feel your own cervix.
Because I care. And I want to gross you out too.
Enjoy! And now you can Reach out! And touch a cervix! (or rather…. reach in?)
P.S. Wondering about the blog mentioned earlier? Click here