Saturday we had our all day torture event childbirth preparation class through the hospital. Our instructor was the saving grace of the class. She was awesome. Very passionate about the subject material, and for eight hours she was talking and teaching and it didn't get boring. That's the kind of teacher I never felt like I was.
The un-Christian side of me really wants to point out all the socially retarded couples that are currently having babies at the same time we are. There are quite a few as it turns out. I guess any time you get a random group of people together there's bound to be a couple. But, wow.
Toward the end of the class we were talking about birth plans (which I'm not a huge fan of as I've already discussed) and I mentioned that I not really pro-narcotics. The (socially retarded) dude next to me said in a very patronizing voice "Um, childbirth can get pretty...painful." Like I didn't know. Thanks. Comebacks I've thought of since because I was so mad about it: "Thanks, asshole." "And how many children have you personally birthed?" Of course he didn't wait to hear that I'm not anti-epidural or other pain interventions. Boo to him (and I feel sorry for his wife).
To round out our weekend, we had a breast feeding class yesterday. I told my sister (you know the one with seven kids) that we had this class and she scoffed and laughed and said "how can you learn that without having a baby?" (She also told me it was easy and that I wouldn't have a problem traveling to Wisconsin for a wedding 4-5 weeks after baby's born. So all that proves to me is that she's a) masochistic, or b) she doesn't even remember or c) maybe that's how she felt with her 7th, but her first was so freaking long ago, she has blocked those memories.) The class was interesting and I feel more confident in my knowledge. So there.
There were a couple times, though, that the lactation specialist on the video we had to watch sounded so much like this lady on public television that has an Italian cooking show that Bubba and I would watch on Sunday mornings while we got ready for church. It made us immaturely crack up in the back of the class. At the end of cooking a dish, this TV personality says, "And now I will taste it for you... Mmmmm. Delicious" in her thick Italian accent. I whispered that to Bubba after the lactation educator on the video was praising the mom's use of letdown stroking and admiring the drop of milk hanging off her nipple. We almost died trying not to laugh out loud. I don't think the instructor liked us too much.
The combination of the childbirth seminar and the breast feeding class acted like a pep-rally in combination. LET'S GO! Have that baby! And apart from my nesting list, I'm am good to go. Bubba wants us to start packing a hospital bag and making a music playlist. 39 days. That's nothing!