Helping You Get the Most Out of Your Misery






This page is powered by Blogger. Isn't yours?

Tuesday, July 22, 2008


Deep Breaths and Unitards

My wife and I went to our first Lamaze class last night. We really liked our teacher, who seems to know what she's doing and also seems to have a good sense of humor about it.

It's odd, because I've been visualizing this class for so long and I'd always made sure to include people who my wife and I could make fun of, but everyone seemed very nice, for the most part. Of course, this was the first class. I'm sure some of them could turn out to be giant assholes over the course of the next five weeks.

I'm looking forward to this class, because I very much want to know what the fuck's going on when my wife starts on this whole "labor" thing. I don't want to be the husband running around, hyperventilating and telling her to bear down when she's not even fully dilated. I want to be the awesome husband who makes it easier for her and so avoids getting hit with heavy things thrown by a woman who's pushing something roughly the size of a roasted chicken out of her vagina.

The one thing my wife and I did get to make fun of was a poster on the wall of various upright positions to make early and/or active labor easier. It wasn't necessarily funny to picture my pained wife sitting on a giant exercise ball, but the female figures in the illustrations on the poster were wearing pink unitards. My wife pointed out that wearing a unitard might make the delivery a little more complicated. I just felt the the unitard was a little retro for the new millennium.

I guess I'd assumed the figures were dressed that way to give the poster a uniform look or something, but then I found this picture, which seems to suggest that my wife will be dressed similarly when it's her time to deliver. Who knew?

My how childbirth has changed since 1999.
Or 1974! What a bunch of rigamarole. People make way too much money off of this thing.

I had to give the "roast chicken" analogy some pause for thought. It's more like a 7-9 pound turkey. That's alive. With arms a legs. And shoulders.

What an adventure you've begun! This is all the fun part you know. Raising them for the next two decades is where it will get tricky. Take it from someone with two kids in their middle and late 30s.
Post a Comment

<< Home