Labor and (breathe) birthing (think of the beach) classes begin (stretch)

This will apparently cure anything that ails ya

Just to give you an idea of how far behind I am, we went to labor and birthing classes LAST TUESDAY and I’m just now getting around to writing about them today. And then only because the internet is down at work, and I can’t really do anything until it’s back.

So, labor and birthing classes are 2.5 hours on a Tuesday night, followed by 2.5 hours on the next three Tuesday nights, bringing us to a total of 10 hours of sitting in a room, listening to a variety of people talk about all the joy we’re going to experience, showing us videos (mostly animated when it came to the actual birth, thank God!) and then telling us how all the pain, sweat and crazy positions we just saw can be alleviated by breathing properly. Please save your laughter until the end. I almost did.

The woman running the class showed us a couple videos of real women, giving real birth. There was much sweat and several contorted faces. Some of them were on their stomach. Some were on their back. None looked happy to be there. And these were the ones they chose to put on camera. I can’t begin to imagine what the other 97 percent look like.

Definitely the face of someone thinking of a beach
and things to interrogate her child about...

The whole idea behind this first class and these videos was to hammer home the point that proper breathing and relaxation will go a long way towards making the birthing process much easier. Which makes all the sense in the world. The less stress, the more movement. The more in control you are, the smoother things will run. Relax and things just fall out of you, I guess.

The final exercise of the night was our class leader putting on some kind of “relaxing” music. Enya. Or Ocean Sounds, Volume 17. Or something like that. Then, as we sat in our pretty little cushioned seats, in the dimly lit, air conditioned room, she told us to pretend we were at a beach. Make believe the baby is in the water. What would you ask your baby? (Can you swim? was not an option). Talk to your baby. Now tense the muscles in your feet. Relax. Tense the muscles in your calves. Relax. That continued all the way up to our faces, one muscle group at a time.

My only question – and I only have one – is: When Melissa is in the delivery room, heading into her fifth hour of labor, sweat matting her hair down into a slick ripple of stringy fur and this 8-pound baby trying to squeeze out of a 10 cm opening, is she really going to want to picture herself at Bathtub Beach, thinking of questions to ask her baby?

If only we'd not crossed God...

Okay, second question: And does breathing become a rhythmic exchange of oxygen and carbon dioxide, or a struggle against all that is happening in (and part way out of) your body?

We also talked about mucus plugs (I’ll spare you. You’re welcome) and some other crazy stuff that God probably didn’t intend to happen to human beings but, since we homogenize milk and train cats to pee in the toilet, he has allowed to occur anyway.

Anyway, tomorrow night is breast feeding class. Which is weird, because I thought I was pretty good at that already. Hopefully there will be films!