And so goes the shallow breathing technique for labor, which we learned last night at our first and only birthing class.
Being the procrastinator that I am, all the express classes were booked. That is, until Jan. 17 and with as big as I am, I didn’t want to cut it that close. Also, I didn’t want to spend four weeks in classes. So we went with a private class.
It was good. As birthing classes go. We just have to borrow from our hospital the birthing videos, so my hubby can see an actual birth.
But the whole time we were there, I couldn’t believe we were there. The idea of us actually having a baby and me giving birth? It’s crazy.
We also got a tour of their remodeled birthing wing and recovery area. It was surreal. I remember being there for my brother’s birth in 1990. The colors are different, no more mauve and green, but the layout of the floor is essentially the same. And then it made me think of my mom giving birth and getting to see him emerge into the world, and now I am doing the same! I have memories of getting my mom ice chips. It was just crazy.
I know, crazy is my word of the day and we all should scream like Pee Wee’s Playhouse when I say it, but seriously. I am so not prepared.
I need to make a list of all the things I need to do, I need to meet with the nurse for our “Birth Day Wishes,” which spells out who will be in the room, how much attention I want from the nurses, etc. Surprisingly, my mom wants to be in the room. And it’s a surprise because my mom can’t stand to see her children in pain. Seriously, she couldn’t see her daughters get their ears pierced. But my hubs and I think we just want medical personnel and each other. I’ve got too much family and don’t want to pick and choose. They can see me after. And as if they want to actually see me…
But it is really happening.
I had my first shower this week, my work one, followed up with my family and friends one Saturday. The best part of my shower was the cake. Seriously, Kin.g Soo.pe.rs rocks the poppyseed cake with a buttercream frosting. MMmmm. But even better? What the cake said.
Since we found out the sex of the baby, EVERYONE has asked us his name. We have a short list, and we’ve shared that with friends and family only to have them give comments, come up with new names, tell us what ethnicity that name is, etc. So we just started telling everyone his name would be as follows:
I just died laughing when I saw it. As everyone at work knows him by this name. But, apparently, the bakery lady was confused, according to my coworker. I can’t imagine why?! But we think it works. And we decided we won’t tell anyone his real name until Th.or Pa.blo is here.
*And to the question I had been asked in a not-so-nice comment, the private class cost us $130. Yes, money is tight with my hubby being out of work and only getting unemployment. But we have a little savings, he’s not spending money on gas and waiting for the cheaper, $70 class until I’m considered full term was not an option for us. If I didn’t have an extra $60 to spend I’d really, really be worried.
And the comment about him being brittle and not able to knock me up? Um, we don’t know if he can or can’t. We did IVF for one reason alone – GENETICS. But, apparently, you’d rather say really rude things, be mean and not nice. Thanks poophead.