Originally published on Fuse Moms

The common denominator of first-time pregnant women is not distended
bellies or compromised bladders. It is not the fear of another human
being exiting their body. Instead, they pursue one goal – preparation.
Whether it’s stocking up on diapers or painting a nursery in a soothing
color, these gals feel the need to prepare for their new arrival. For
me, it was childbirth classes…

Round One

We are at the hospital’s four-session course about childbirth. The room is chock full of rotund ladies and their husbands.

The
nurse who is teaching the class has grown children. I’d prefer to talk
to someone who carries recent scars… I mean memories… of the joy of
childbirth. To chafe me even more, she is wearing a waist-cinching
belt. I don’t think anyone in this room can imagine fitting in a belt
again. This woman is cruel. I want to run her over with my car.

We
all have to introduce ourselves (our names, when baby is due, etc.).
Great, a laundry list I have to recite to people I’m never going to see
in my life again. Okay lady, get to the significant points of this
childbirth thing and let me get home to the couch. Ben & Jerry are
waiting for me.

PREGNANCY INDUCED RANTING TO COMMENCE…

This
torture chamber has the tiniest, hardest chairs I’ve ever had the
displeasure to fit my fat arse on. One of my butt cheeks is dangling
off the side and my back is killing me. There is only ONE bathroom
here! Half of the class is continuously lined up outside the door with
a panicked expression on their faces. Someone is going to serve us a
snack soon, right? If not, show me a vending machine before someone
gets hurt.

BACK TO OUR PROGRAM…

We are learning about the
stages of childbirth. Nazi Nurse is taking a perverse pleasure in her
graphic description about how far we are going to stretch in order for
our Wee Ones to enter this world. This is not my idea of a relaxing
evening.

We are ending the night by lying on the floor and
practicing our breathing. Terrific! Lower twenty-five chunks onto a
thinly carpeted floor and expect them to get up before the child is
born. It is obvious that a man designed this course.

Nurse
Sadist has decided that the husbands should squeeze our hands snugly
during our breathing exercises in an effort to learn to breathe through
the discomfort. I warned Sparky that if he didn’t want to experience
pain in the groinular region he wouldn’t follow her instructions.
Bloody Hell, Lizzie Borden, isn’t it bad enough that I have to dilate
to ten centimeters two months from now?

Finally, we are leaving
the class for the night. I’m hoping the feeling in my hindquarters will
return. Sparky is taking me to McDonald’s for a hamburger to soothe my
nerves. Good man.

Round Two of the Childbirth Scarefest

Nurse
“Don’t-I-Have-Slender-Ankles-in-My-Small-Shoes?” is dispensing more
intimidating information. I’m beginning to realize that whether or not
I understand what is happening to my body during childbirth, that baby
is coming out. I’m substituting listening for fantasizing about her
Easy Spirits losing a heel in a random scuffle with an exceptionally
irritated pregnant gal.

It’s back to the floor for more
hand-wrenching breathing exercises. One of the husbands is putting on a
back-saving safety belt before hefting his wife to the floor. The class
is divided in two. There is the “screw this, I’ll take the drugs” side
and the “I’ll brave the pain on my own” side. Guess which side I’m on?

Sparky
and I are toasting our McDonald’s hamburgers, as we have snuck out
during class break. We have decided to be Childbirth Class dropouts. We
feel pretty confident that our Ankle Biter can navigate his way out of
the birth canal, while I savor the needle in my back.

Contrary to popular belief, ignorance can be bliss.

Editors Pick by Deb at Missives From Suburbia.  Lyssa from Fuse Moms was one of the first bloggers who welcomed me into the world of blogging, and in addition to being a gracious hostess of the blogosphere, she is an extremely talented writer who tackles everything from dog training to housepainting with grace (figuratively speaking) and humor.  I’m sure she’ll have a book deal someday, but in the meantime, visit her blog and read the original post and its comments, then subscribe to her feed. That way, you can say you knew her “back when”.