Sunday
Apr112010
My First Impression: A Crazy
Sunday, April 11, 2010 at 4:38AM
Last night the hubby and I attended the first of two childbirth classes at the hospital where I will deliver. And, in true know-it-all gotta-make-everyone-annoyed-and-uncomfortable fashion, I made a stellar first impression.
It all started out nice and calm. Couple's began filtering in. About 10 couples total. We had to fill out some paperwork and then do some getting-to-know-you excercise. My husband HATES those. He gets all whiney about them. But then he'll get up and be all charming and make people laugh and when he sits back down he goes, "That sucked." At least he's charming throughout the process.
So, thus far, I think we're doing alright and people think we're a-ok. Then the teacher/nurse starts going around the room and asking each person to talk a little about him/herself, ususally ending with the question, "What's the best piece of advice you've gotten so far?"
I don't know why I couldn't have just answered that. You know? A simple, "Oh, everyone says get sleep now!" which is what pretty much everyone else in the group said. But that's just too simplistic for me. That kind of answer doesn't have enough pizazz! No one will think I'm cute, witty, likable and intelligent (yes, my goal is to get these things across with a short answer) with an answer like, (read in thick southern accent) "Uh....you know, get me some sa-leep, I 'pose."
So what do I answer with? Basically, (read with air of Reese Witherspoon in "Election" mixed with Sarah Silverman doing standup - remember: intelligent AND witty) "Well, I have a doula and she's given me a lot of advice. (I know you want to smack me just a little bit for starting like that - it gets worse.) She's scared me with a few things, too! Did you know that if you refuse the heel prick that it goes on your permanent record as a misdemeanor?"
Silence. I think most people were stuck on "heel prick" and "misdemeanor."
The teacher/nurse looks at me. In response to her look I go, "Did YOU know that?" only to feel like a total know-it-all asshole immediately after.
I can see my husband slowly leaning away from me. Later he'd tell me it felt like when we'd get in bad improv scenes on stage and you just want to get the hell out of there as fast as possible.
So, I try to make it better by stumbling on my words, staring at my foot while pointing my heel up (you know, cuz I'm talking about the heel prick) and going, "I mean, I'm GETTING the heel prick, don't know why you wouldn't, I just thought it was interesting that it goes on your permanent record, you know, I mean, you're permanent record! (voice getting softer) don't know WHY anyone would refuse that. I mean, I'm not."
More silence.
And this is where the teacher/nurse feels the need to DEFEND the heel prick. As if I was the Trojan army and my heel prick knowledge and I had just come charging out of the horse at her armed with liberals and hippies and people who have home births. (I live in the Bible Belt. Ten times more churches than McDonalds.)
And she goes on for a good three to five minutes about the SLICE they take from the baby's foot and how CLEAN it is, and that nowadays it seals itself over just as fast as it took to slice it, and that it tests for SERIOUS metabolic diseases, and it's a VERY GOOD test, and it can tell you things about PEANUT ALLERGIES.
At this point, I'm pretty sure everyone in the room has written me off as a crazy and is just fascinated by watching my invisible straight jacket being tied OR they have taken this time to "get sleep now!" before the next four and a half hours of the class.
Once the teacher/nurse is done I feel the need to talk more. Because that's just what I should do. Continue talking. My husband has shrunk to about the size of an ant and is last seen crawling under the door, Dunkin' Donuts coffee in hand. So, I mumble again things about it being a great test and not planning on refusing it AT ALL, just that I found the thing about the misdemeanor interesting okay please move on and maybe someone else will be equally bizarre.
I may have started it off all worse-than-seventh-grade-dance awkward, but I wasn't the one to make fart noises that most of the room could hear when the teacher/nurse squatted later in class to show us one of the birthing positions. THAT would be my husband.
It all started out nice and calm. Couple's began filtering in. About 10 couples total. We had to fill out some paperwork and then do some getting-to-know-you excercise. My husband HATES those. He gets all whiney about them. But then he'll get up and be all charming and make people laugh and when he sits back down he goes, "That sucked." At least he's charming throughout the process.
So, thus far, I think we're doing alright and people think we're a-ok. Then the teacher/nurse starts going around the room and asking each person to talk a little about him/herself, ususally ending with the question, "What's the best piece of advice you've gotten so far?"
I don't know why I couldn't have just answered that. You know? A simple, "Oh, everyone says get sleep now!" which is what pretty much everyone else in the group said. But that's just too simplistic for me. That kind of answer doesn't have enough pizazz! No one will think I'm cute, witty, likable and intelligent (yes, my goal is to get these things across with a short answer) with an answer like, (read in thick southern accent) "Uh....you know, get me some sa-leep, I 'pose."
So what do I answer with? Basically, (read with air of Reese Witherspoon in "Election" mixed with Sarah Silverman doing standup - remember: intelligent AND witty) "Well, I have a doula and she's given me a lot of advice. (I know you want to smack me just a little bit for starting like that - it gets worse.) She's scared me with a few things, too! Did you know that if you refuse the heel prick that it goes on your permanent record as a misdemeanor?"
Silence. I think most people were stuck on "heel prick" and "misdemeanor."
The teacher/nurse looks at me. In response to her look I go, "Did YOU know that?" only to feel like a total know-it-all asshole immediately after.
I can see my husband slowly leaning away from me. Later he'd tell me it felt like when we'd get in bad improv scenes on stage and you just want to get the hell out of there as fast as possible.
So, I try to make it better by stumbling on my words, staring at my foot while pointing my heel up (you know, cuz I'm talking about the heel prick) and going, "I mean, I'm GETTING the heel prick, don't know why you wouldn't, I just thought it was interesting that it goes on your permanent record, you know, I mean, you're permanent record! (voice getting softer) don't know WHY anyone would refuse that. I mean, I'm not."
More silence.
And this is where the teacher/nurse feels the need to DEFEND the heel prick. As if I was the Trojan army and my heel prick knowledge and I had just come charging out of the horse at her armed with liberals and hippies and people who have home births. (I live in the Bible Belt. Ten times more churches than McDonalds.)
And she goes on for a good three to five minutes about the SLICE they take from the baby's foot and how CLEAN it is, and that nowadays it seals itself over just as fast as it took to slice it, and that it tests for SERIOUS metabolic diseases, and it's a VERY GOOD test, and it can tell you things about PEANUT ALLERGIES.
At this point, I'm pretty sure everyone in the room has written me off as a crazy and is just fascinated by watching my invisible straight jacket being tied OR they have taken this time to "get sleep now!" before the next four and a half hours of the class.
Once the teacher/nurse is done I feel the need to talk more. Because that's just what I should do. Continue talking. My husband has shrunk to about the size of an ant and is last seen crawling under the door, Dunkin' Donuts coffee in hand. So, I mumble again things about it being a great test and not planning on refusing it AT ALL, just that I found the thing about the misdemeanor interesting okay please move on and maybe someone else will be equally bizarre.
I may have started it off all worse-than-seventh-grade-dance awkward, but I wasn't the one to make fart noises that most of the room could hear when the teacher/nurse squatted later in class to show us one of the birthing positions. THAT would be my husband.
Copyright; 2011, Blahggy. All rights reserved.
Reader Comments (40)
ROFL! I would have totally gotten that the misdemeanor part is the interesting part there (b/c, duh, that IS interesting).
hahaha Great Post and good for you two for going. We didn't take these classes...not because I think I'm super women but because I know my husband would have been the same way. NO WAY! Thank goodness we got through the first one...and of course...I did all the work :p That's why were the ones who have the babies!!! lol
Candice - THANK you! Although, my husband reminded me that it was he who had to give me the word "misdemeanor" because I just kept saying "permanent record." I must have blocked that out.
Tara Bucci - Thanks for stopping by! Seriously, I don't think men could handle having babies.
At our birthing class (which we crammed into two days vs. 4 weeks because I knew I could never get Michael there and that interested for four weeks), a VERY pregnant lady asked "My babies daddy wanted to know how late in transition can you have sex?" Hand to God she asked this. Now needless to say, that was incredibly awkward. Makes the "My Doula says . . . . " comment not as awful as you would think. And trust me, given the competitive nature of mothers and pregnant women, there were women in your class who were thinking, "I wonder why I didn't know that. I need to bitch slap my doula"
Sheryl - That's so awesome. Although, it sounds like she had no awareness around the reaction her comment created. Me, however, I was VERY aware! Hope you're doing great!
Well, i am one of permanent record people. refused ALOT of stuff in the hospital... of course they knew ahead of time because i had a 10 page birth plan. which actually they appreciated and honored -- mostly because they love my ob
[...] class. If you missed the brilliant impression I made during week 1, you can read about it here. This time I just kept my mouth shut. And I think the teacher forgot about it. When we were [...]
My husband and I didn't go to one class because I was on bedrest the last 6 mos. of my pregnancy with my first, and ended up having an emergency c section...then two more c sections after that. The only reason I wish I had been able to go to at least one is because I endured 28 hours of labor with the first, and would have loved to know how to breathe! I would've gone 128 hours...not a regret in my heart...worth every minute! I'm not a psycho or anything, but the pain is really not so bad considering what you get out of the deal ; )!
So funny. I'm thankful you included the nurse's sermon because I had no idea what a heel prick was!
Glad I wasn't in your class (well obviously I'm not pregnant ;) because I would have been giggling too much when you later tried to reassure them that you were getting it.
Oh man - I woulda been the one in the corner, just snickering, watching to see how you got yourself out of that one & then introduced myself after class.
Sometimes you just can't stop yourself. Thanks for sharing!
I appreciated the husband whining and then showing a false face only to return to whining. My husband does that. Where do they learn it? It's almost scary how they can jump into the cordial persona so quickly. It's almost like they have dual personality disorder.
HaHa! That's too funny! Happy SITS Day!
[...] My First Impression: A Crazy – How I made a most lovely first impression at our childbirth [...]
I didn't know about the heel pick either. I am sure my son had one.
Yup, because the farting thing was the most embarrassing thing that happened. The Most Embarrasing. OK?
Oh girl you know how to make a first impression! Too funny.
Girlfriend, I haven't made any impressions like that at childbirth class, but you and I could be sisters in the "impress 'em with intelligence and wit" camp generously mixed with silence and embarrassment.
I hate that! You can HEAR the little voice in your head saying "SHUT UP" and you still can't stop! It's like word vomit...lots of it.
Stopping in from SITS, and I had to laugh at this post! It reminded me of how hubs and I got kicked out of our childbirth classes. Picture it. Pregnant women on all fours on the floor, their husbands kneeling behind them with their hands on their wives hips. The pressure that the men exerted on their wives hips was supposed to help with labor pain, but all hubs and I could see was a room full of men that looked like they were about to do it doggie style. Commence the laughter. And tears. And snot down our faces. When we were asked to compose ourselves or leave, we had to leave. :)
Too funny. Are you all now great friends or are they still giving you a wide berth on the street?
Happy SITS day.
LisaDay
That's hilarious! Ug...fart noises. That would be my hubby! He always does it in an elvevator. Always.
Happy SITS day!
This is so hilarious! I can totally relate to the fart noises because I am sure my husband would have done the same thing had he thought of it.
OMG, you are hysterical. I would have loved to be there. And I love love love that your husband, while he originally leaned away from you, ultimately LOYALLY took your side and farted at the nurse with you. That's true love, baby. True love.
At least you made it entertaining! Those classes are TORTURE. Yeah, let's make pregnant women sit for 4 hours in a chair and talk about the horrific things that are about to happen to ther v...., well, you know. Hey, I bet you made it interesting for everyone else at least. Happy SITS Day!
OMgoodness, yes, you could have worked on your intro, but then we wouldn't have this hilarious post to read! Continue to be yourself. :-)