My wife and I started Lamaze classes on Sunday. There were a couple of nice things about this as well as a sprinkling of irritations. I trudged in with a mindset of, "How long do we have to be here?" But the mood lightened considerably.
First of all, my science classes growing up were no good. As the instructor went through the anatomy of everything going on, I was actually interested. The instructor said multiple times that this was the dry part of the class, but I was plenty interested (and my imagination made a lot of jokes that I could never say in class). Moreover, I was struck by the miracle God sets in motion when all this fetal activity gets rolling.
Another breath of fresh air was the instructor's acknowledgment that the couples present were either one among a group of pregnant friends, or they were loner parents, traversing the parental landscape solo. I have a lot of friends, and most of them are married. I was surprised, however, that after my wife got preg-nified, that none followed suit. This mindset is probably because of my mother. "Once one of you gets pregnant, then everybody will be." Mom was wrong. It doesn't bother that none of our friends are getting knocked up, but there is a bizarre feeling when I realize that what my wife and I are going through, none of our friends will relate. It was nice to be in a place where bulbous bellies and blank-faced husbands gathered to prepared for the fetus festival.
Downsides included watching birth videos. The first I had ever seen were in college, after which I told my wife (then my girlfriend) that if she were to have my child, I would accompany her only if I had a blindfold on. Though I've matured a smidge, I could really deal without. I fear what else we may be watching in the weeks to come.
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