Me and My Labor Coach

This past week Jake and I had the opportunity to participate in our first Lamaze session. Now, like our Lamaze instructor told us, many people are misinformed about what Lamaze really is. Just to be clear, I am planning to get an epidural during labor. I know that it is probably the "easy way out" and I am not a "strong woman," but I am thinking, if I know in the back of my mind that there will be relief from all of the pain, then why the heck would I NOT do it? Besides, it is safe for me and for baby (with of course the chance of usual side effects that ANY drugs can have). Anyways, I am very okay with the use of drugs, and more power to the women that do it au natural. So, getting back to what this Lamaze stuff is – it’s basically a childbirth education class. They teach you how to relax and what is going on with your body and give you a tour of the hospital. Personally, the greatest benefit is that Jake is forced to sit and listen to all of this. I know that he may "tune out" some of it, but I am thinking at least 25% of the information is soaking in somehow.

I was, of course, super pumped up for the class. I LOVE learning all of this stuff and it will be a whole room full of pregnant ladies who can empathize with what I have been going through the past eight months. Jake, on the other hand, is not looking forward to it and says that he hopes it’s not "lame." He spent a good 15 minutes stressing out about what to wear (I know better than to answer the question, "Does it matter what I wear?" with "No" and now offer the qualifier of: "It must not have holes, stains or vulgar language on it"). We were told to bring two pillows and a blanket. He informed me that we were bringing the KISS Army blanket to "send a message" to the other couples because "that’s how we roll." Since, I did require him to wear pants; I let the KISS blanket thing slide.

So, we get there and see that our class is pretty large. The first thing that stresses Jake out is the name tags. I just roll my eyes and push him to our seats. It had been a while since Jake and I were "partners" in a class-like setting. The very first time I can remember that we were paired up was at U of I when a group of us took a swing dancing lesson. I am pretty sure that we had started drinking beforehand, and I KNOW that Jake was just going along to be nice to me (we were still in that stage of our relationship). More recently we were in our Pre Cana classes before our wedding. I remember having a really good time with him, and kind of having the "Us vs. Them" attitude about it. Sometimes it is good to get out of your little bubble and look around at other couples.

We quickly assessed that everyone there was very touchy feely. I am surprised that these people weren’t all sitting on each other’s laps and making out through the class. Jake looked at me and said, "We’re like a brother and sister here." Then, of course, you have to label each couple and/or person. That guy is the "class clown," that guy is the "smart ass who makes everyone uncomfortable with his jerky comments." My especially favorite couple was the one that we couldn’t figure out what they were. This young, blonde woman (I would say about my age) comes in, followed by an older, fit gentleman (I would say older than my dad). I totally assumed that it was her father. Then, I looked at her ring finger and noticed the biggest, most ornate diamond wedding ring I have ever seen. Still, I thought perhaps this was her dad, and imagined that her husband was a rich and powerful surgeon that was on call this night. This theory was even more supported when he was taking notes on everything the lady was saying. Jake and I whispered back and forth:

Is that her dad?
No, it can’t be, look at her ring, look at his shoes. He is rich.
He is taking notes, though. Maybe it is for her husband.
No … she is now caressing his hair.
Yeaaaaahh, I wouldn’t do that with my dad.

(Also, to really hit it home that they were really "an item," after our "relaxation-lay-on-the-floor-thing" they were making out. I am not kidding. Jake was snoring and I had to hit him to wake him up. Perhaps these two were newlyweds.)

Anywho, I think it was the first time that Jake realized he was going to be my "Labor Coach." This may be his most important role yet, and I have decided that as long as he makes me laugh, he will do a good job. I know that he doesn’t want to "see anything past the curtain" (he mentioned it in class to everyone about five times) which is fine with me. I am even over the fact that he doesn’t want to cut the umbilical cord (although I told him that I would tell Baby that his father didn’t want to do that, even after his mommy carried him in her womb for 9 months). But, seriously, if he can just make me laugh I will be fine. I would like to see all of these touchy feely couples in the delivery room. I bet they’re not so touchy feely there … I’ll take my KISS Army blanket and holey t-shirted husband any day.