Dear Spike:
We just got back from our fourth childbirth class. Today’s subject: Pain.
Pain.
And more pain.
Ripping and cutting. Needles and catheters. Forceps and hooks and surgical scalpels and clamps. Oh yeah, did I mention they have videos of all of this stuff in action?
At one point, your mother turned to me and said, “I’ve decided I can’t do this.” She’s said that before, but she always was kidding. This time, I think she was serious.
All the moms walked out of the class looking like they’d come to the same conclusion. I can’t be sure, of course, but I think this woman might be why they’ve banned abortion in the third trimester.
To be fair, we also discussed pain management. But even where that was concerned, it was mostly about the pain you have to endure to get to the pain management.
I sure hope there is some sort of method to this instructor’s madness. At the moment, she’s just making me feel really, really bad about getting your mother into this mess.
A quick sidenote: I just realized that someday I’m going to have to teach you about where babies come from. Oh boy. Won't that be a lovely time.
For the moment, your mom is seriously freaked out. It's almost as bad as that time we watched "The Toxic Avenger," thinking it was going to be like the cartoon, but quickly realizing that, in fact, it was pretty much about crushing people's heads in a way that made their brains squirt out of their ears.
I turned off the movie that night. This time around, there's no power button. No rewind. No TiVo.
After we got home, she filled the bathtub and took a dip. I sat on the edge of the tub and looked down at her adorable belly, sticking up out of the water.
“You know,” I said. “You’re going to do great.”
“At birth or at being a mom?” she asked.
“Both.”
“I don’t really know how to do either of those things.”
“You will. You’re going to do great.”
“I’m scared.”
“I know. But you’re going to do great.”
For some reason, when we’re scared, it’s often good to repeat a single, simple, soothing message. It’s not even the words that really count, I think, but just that we have something true and comforting to think about. I think that’s why people say The Lord’s Prayer when they’re scared — even if they're not religious.
For the next four weeks (or more, or less, it’s really up to you) I’ll be telling your mother this same thing: “You’re going to do great.”
At being a mom. At giving birth. At handling the pain. At ignoring our masochistic childbirth class instructor.
Your mother is sleeping now. Snoring hard. I hope she’s not dreaming about any of those videos.
I wonder if you’re scared, too. By your new world. By all the noises outside your little cocoon. By forceps and hooks and surgical scalpels and clamps.
You know, you’re going to do great, too.
You’re going to do great.
You’re going to do great.
Love,
dad
We just got back from our fourth childbirth class. Today’s subject: Pain.
Pain.
And more pain.
Ripping and cutting. Needles and catheters. Forceps and hooks and surgical scalpels and clamps. Oh yeah, did I mention they have videos of all of this stuff in action?
At one point, your mother turned to me and said, “I’ve decided I can’t do this.” She’s said that before, but she always was kidding. This time, I think she was serious.
All the moms walked out of the class looking like they’d come to the same conclusion. I can’t be sure, of course, but I think this woman might be why they’ve banned abortion in the third trimester.
To be fair, we also discussed pain management. But even where that was concerned, it was mostly about the pain you have to endure to get to the pain management.
I sure hope there is some sort of method to this instructor’s madness. At the moment, she’s just making me feel really, really bad about getting your mother into this mess.
A quick sidenote: I just realized that someday I’m going to have to teach you about where babies come from. Oh boy. Won't that be a lovely time.
For the moment, your mom is seriously freaked out. It's almost as bad as that time we watched "The Toxic Avenger," thinking it was going to be like the cartoon, but quickly realizing that, in fact, it was pretty much about crushing people's heads in a way that made their brains squirt out of their ears.
I turned off the movie that night. This time around, there's no power button. No rewind. No TiVo.
After we got home, she filled the bathtub and took a dip. I sat on the edge of the tub and looked down at her adorable belly, sticking up out of the water.
“You know,” I said. “You’re going to do great.”
“At birth or at being a mom?” she asked.
“Both.”
“I don’t really know how to do either of those things.”
“You will. You’re going to do great.”
“I’m scared.”
“I know. But you’re going to do great.”
For some reason, when we’re scared, it’s often good to repeat a single, simple, soothing message. It’s not even the words that really count, I think, but just that we have something true and comforting to think about. I think that’s why people say The Lord’s Prayer when they’re scared — even if they're not religious.
For the next four weeks (or more, or less, it’s really up to you) I’ll be telling your mother this same thing: “You’re going to do great.”
At being a mom. At giving birth. At handling the pain. At ignoring our masochistic childbirth class instructor.
Your mother is sleeping now. Snoring hard. I hope she’s not dreaming about any of those videos.
I wonder if you’re scared, too. By your new world. By all the noises outside your little cocoon. By forceps and hooks and surgical scalpels and clamps.
You know, you’re going to do great, too.
You’re going to do great.
You’re going to do great.
Love,
dad
6 comments:
Thanks for the comment on my blog. I think your thoughts on that are right.
I haven't commented here in a long time, but I've been following. Good luck with the last few weeks. We thought birthing classes were useless too, but at least they make you feel like you're trying to prepare.
birthing classes are useless and they seem to focus on only the worst parts. I've had six and none of those things have ever been used on me or my children. I even had the last one at home, in my bathtub where the warm water was the most awesome of natural epidurals possible.
I had 2 babies. They were big. I had them without drugs, meds, and all that other jazz. (I also had then very quickly, so there would not have been time for all that jazz anyway. I'm not tooting my own horn or anything.) Pregnancy and birth were the most challenging actions I've ever taken on, not counting being a mother (sheesh) and they are really scary to walk into, with the knowns and the unknowns. But the reality is, everyone on earth today is here because a woman took an the challenge of their birth and suceeded. Try to put the video images away and breathe in the idea that birth is not a medical procedure but an act of life. You are all going to do great.
(The book BIrthing from Within deals through a type of art therapy with fears couples have about pain, etc. Maybe look at it if your wife can't shake her freak-out? Just a thought.)
Wow... sounds as if your instructor needs a new job. I've done this baby having thing a few times now and there are just a feww things to remember. 1. you are the boss, you don't like a nurse? get a new one, you want and epidural? you tell them you won't have a baby with out one! It's all about you, don't foret that! 2. Matt- it's your job to get the info for Heidi and be her mouth piece. So know what she wants so you can fight for it. Just remember this is one of the most beautiful, spiritual experiences you'll ever have together. Enjoy it!
P.S. Has any one talked to Heidi about after she comes home and some of he things she need (breast pads, sanitary pads etc.)? If she wants to she can call me and I'll give her some info.
I wonder if this childbirth instructor is like the one I encountered recently on the phone, who seemed to think she knows everything and I couldn't get a word in as we talked. Very authoritarian. Are all childbirth instructors like that?? Doesn't make me relish the thought of taking such classes... sure doesn't sound helpful at all.
Hi, Spike's dad. Nice blog =)
Don't let them scare you. Now, I didn't actually "give birth" the natural way, but I made it right to the brink, and I think that counts. Yes it hurts, and yes, I got an epidural. But even when you are in all that pain, you are filled with a sense of purpose, an idea that you will not be tested past what you can take.
Tell Heidi that no one will be awarding medals or trophies afterwards to those who did it without drugs, so if she feels she needs them, get them.
And when you see that baby it's all worth it!
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