27w5d

**Warning - Labor Classes Discussed**

Ok. So things have been busy (as usual). So I haven't been the greatest blogger in the world. Sue me. :P

My husband and I have started our prenatal/birthing classes run by our midwife group. It's 8 sessions, once weekly for 2 hours.

When we first signed up for them, I thought to myself, holy cripes, how much sh*t could there be to know about being in labor and pushing a baby out one's chooch? Really? 16 hours of classes?!

And the anxiety of having to go to these classes. Let me tell you. These people in the class with you are 'normal' pregnant people (read: most likely? Fucking Fertiles), consisting of the following:

- The 'teenaged pregnancy'... 'couple' (?)
- 4 'mid-twenties-at-the-most' couples
- The 'single-mother-plus-mother/support-person' couple
- The 'late-thirties-not-even-showing-yet' couple
- Us. Early to mid thirties. And fucking infertile. Jaded. Bitter. Realistic. Worldly. 

Now. All of these people uncomfortably placed in hard wooden chairs arranged in a big circle for 2 hours, watching movies (GRAPHIC movies), having discussions, and interacting with one another - well, who says Sur.vivor is the ultimate social experiment? Pfft. I beg to differ.

I knew what the demographic would consist of when we signed up for these classes, and that it/they would ultimately piss me off to no end, but we don't really have a choice in the matter, I *want* to know what my options are, and when it comes down to it our midwifery group won't labor with us unless we've taken some sort of class series.

First class?

- Early-Mid Twenties Husbands: On their FUCKING iPhones the entire class
[I fucking HATE this kind of technology and its blatant miss-use in society. BLATANT. Could you maybe make an effort and pay a LITTLE attention? This is KIND of important?]


- Single Mother: Obviously doesn't want to be there; refuses to interact in any of the exercises
[A real peach. But at least she was quiet.]


- Teenaged pregnancy couple: "Man" asks if he can bring his X-Box and set it up in the laboring suite.
[Jaw drops to the floor. I found myself staring incredulously at this little prick. Are you fucking KIDDING me? Your (partner) is about to push a freakin' 10lb BABY out of her VA-JAY-JAY and you are going to be playing X-Box??!? WHUT?! "I know, HANG ON a minute! I'm almost done the level! THEN I can hold your legs, bitch!"]
Her? Pain meds. All she wanted to know, over and over again, was about PAIN MEDS.
[Fair enough. Yes, apparently labor is painful. BUT SHE JUST ANSWERED YOUR QUESTION 2 MINUTES AGO! Do you need a Q-tip to clean out you gawd damned ears? Please, just STOP asking!]


- Late thirties, early forties Couple: He's disinterested; keeps checking his watch & blackberry.
[I think: second marriage? maybe? Looks like the Executive type.]
Her? Monopolized 80% of the class time insisting that her birth plan be followed to a T.
[Ugh. Shut.The.Fuck.UP. already! First off - this is a class with other people in it. NEWSFLASH! It's NOT all about you, beotch! Secondly, we're not talking about birth plans! WE're talking about EMERGENCY CESAREANS and FORCEPS - all the stuff that you need to be ready for IF YOU'RE FUCKING BIRTHPLAN GETS THROWN OUT THE WINDOW BECAUSE THERE'S A COMPLICATION, you dolt! UGH!]


My husband and I walked away from the class a little more educated about part of the process, true. But - we also walked away feeling like we both needed a 4-finger glass of scotch after having to sit through 2 hours of idiots.

And we've only just begun. Lord, give me the strength not to rip someone's head off and shit in the hole. Please.