I (Still) Hate Hippies

I had my childbirth class this past weekend. It was pretty much what I thought it would be like, but with less sitting around on pillows practicing breathing, and more scary pictures and videos with sweaty gushy women. My awesome and supportive coach, Cousin J., jumped about 3 feet in the air when the instructor whipped out a particularly offensive perineum photo. I don’t know why these models can’t shave.

There wasn’t a whole lot that the million books I’ve bought and interweb haven’t told me already, but there were a couple little things that resonated. One was a reminder that we (and I took this to heart) need to shut off our ‘thinking minds’ during labor and trust our instincts. As someone who likes to have all the answers, be prepared, be focused – that’s probably the best thing someone could have said to me. Relax. Breathe. Trust yourself. Don’t overthink and panic and get all worked up! Although yes, I am definitely more nervous about the realities of labor now, I feel more comfortable about what to expect and my ability (or, rather, my body's ability) to cope.

The couples in the class were mostly hippies like the instructor, but since they all bathed and wore deodorant and there was at least one hot husband it was bearable. My favorite was the little precious sitting next to me, with her piercings and her fiercely independent I-don’t-even-own-socks Hot Topic hubby. She gagged at the picture of various baby poos. She’s going to suffer a lot. I have never seen someone almost burst into tears during an innocuous role-play exercise.

The instructor was pretty decent and gave a reasonably fair two-day spiel, considering she’s a doula and thinks that any medical intervention is the same thing as willingly handing your baby over to Satan. To eat. I learned that the hospitals in my area apparently don’t do the walking epidural anymore, which is a bit disconcerting since that was my plan. And also, I shouldn’t get into the bathtub when I go into labor because full water immersion will actually slow down contractions. No one wants it to last longer than it has to. We got a binder filled with propaganda I mean useful info on stuff like TENS (no way in hell!), acupuncture, magical pixie-made herbal teas, etc. and a take-home tube sock. Seriously. You have to guess what it’s for. It’s not for the husbands, so get your mind out of the gutter.

It’s weird because I walk this fine line between scoffing at hippies, and being intensely distrustful of the medical community. I think pitocin is just as evil and as equally ridiculous as hypno birthing. On one hand, I do think that a birthing ball will be a cool thing, and liked that she had us practice saying ‘No means no!’ in case pushy nurses tried to force IVs and monitors upon us. On the other, if that monitor becomes necessary, I want it there and I want it ready to go in a hurry. One of my favorite exercises was when she set up different stations to practice labor positions; I never thought that being on my side would be comfortable, but it turns out that’s now at the top of my list. I was also interested/nervous to hear that working on my semi-reclined chaise is about the worst thing I could possibly be doing, since it’s slyly encouraging Junior to flip the wrong way from the Happy Birth position she's currently in, so I need to spend the next two months locked in a full upright position to keep her head-down.

Speaking of the little devil, she’s really stretching out – the latest kicks are right under my breastbone, and I can definitely tell when it’s a sharp little heel. She’s also awake more often, or at least moving at very specific parts of the day/night more forcefully, causing me to mumble out loud angrily through a mouthful of pillow, ‘Calm down, you!’ like a crazy person.
So I’m still sleeping fine in my two-hour shifts, my health is still good, and despite the fact that dinner last night was a full bag of Salt and Vinegar potato chips and a 7-Up, I haven’t ballooned up too badly. The flight to Boston this morning was ok, although I realized it was my last air travel EVER as a non-mother and I got a little weirded out. I feel pretty competent about the move next week. My boss is awesome. We’ve got all the inspection repairs completed for the house sale and the walk-through is Wednesday. And I have a massage scheduled for this weekend! Happy Easter, indeed.