Friday, August 10, 2012

Here I am at 31 weeks...3 days...

A little like I swallowed a watermelon seed...

Teacher's Pet...

So we're going to this "Prepared Childbirth" class, given at the hospital.  We paid $85 for 6 classes, but they are a bargain at any price.  We have learned SO MUCH!  Next week is class four, and I'm really looking forward to it.  We practice breathing and relaxation techniques, and for two hours, my husband has to do EVERYTHING the teacher says.  So I get massages, and we slow dance to relax and he counts my breathing, and for two hours, I feel like I don't have to give ANYTHING, just receive.  He's active and interested, and on the way home, we talk about what we've learned.  See what I mean?  A bargain at any price :)

But I'm such a big goober.

I'm pretty sure the teacher doesn't LOVE me.  Like, she likes me well enough, but, she doesn't LOVE me.  I feel I answer all the questions wrong and she just nods and goes on to someone else.  Or like, last night we had to write things on the board that motivate us.  I said other women that aren't pregnant motivate me (them in their pants with waistlines, ugh.  Look at them go.) I think she was looking for activities.  I tried to follow up with a quip...she didn't laugh.  I'm pretty sure she hates me, actually.  What happens with parents that fail the class?  Can that happen?  Do they confiscate the baby?  Is there a big red mark of shame on our hospital file that reads, "Better keep an eye on this one..."

But the teacher REALLY likes Amy.  She likes her because Amy asks lots of questions.  Amy Amy Amy.  I bet she's going to get an A.  A for Amy.  Blah.

To spite not being Teacher's Pet, I've made a few decisions about our birth.  The teacher really encourages us to be responsible for our own bodies, and to know what we want when we get there.

1) Don't ever take my husband from my side.  Hear me?  Never.  I understand if he needs space or air, I will NOT understand if he's told he's not allowed somewhere.  That man knows me inside out.  He knows what I like and what I hate.  He has brought me water and cleaned my puke off the walls.  I need him to be with me ALL the time.  No exceptions.

2) I want to tell them when I want meds.  Right now, I'm leaning towards the epidural.  Strongly.  But you can't depend on something you'd never had.  And in class we have talked about how to get the baby down into place and how to ease pain and tension without drugs.  My friend Alison just had Baby Grace, and she doesn't remember any of her pregnancy because she was so drugged up.  Now, I'm no hippie.  There will be drugs administered.  But I want to be lucid.  I want to remember this.

3) Breastfeeding- it's going to be happening.  After he wiggles his way out, I'm opting to breast feed him immediately.  I want that skin to skin everyone talks about.  I'm determined to make this work.  After that, they can bathe him and do whatever, but I want to get him first.

4) I want a dim and quiet room.  That's it.  Just Andy and myself and a few nurses.  No commotion.  No parade of people in and out.  Just.  Quiet.

And that's it.  Those are my demands.  I know there are many other things that people could be picky about, but those are the four I'm going to be picky about.  It's my day.  It's OUR day.  It's my son's birthday, after all :)