The Preparation

T and I went to our first prepared childbirth class last night. There was discussion of anatomy, discussion of pre-term labor, and a movie. Oh, god, the movie.

You know, I remember watching The Exorcist in some hotel room while on a road trip to Rhode Island with my mom and my gram. They shouldn't have let me watch that with them, I was much too young.

Yeah. I sort of feel the same way about this movie.

Now, this is not to say that I don't think childbirth is a beautiful, empowering experience. I do think that, in theory. It's just- babies are big, and well, they come from small places, don't they? Whoa. Wow. And watching this lovely, petite woman give birth to a TEN POUND BABY made me wonder just what the hell I signed up for here, anyway.

I'm sure that the movie was meant to excite us, to bolster our confidence, to prepare us, as it were. So why did I sit there riddled with anxiety, wondering what kind of universal accident occurred to place me in this position? I mean I was TOTALLY FREAKING OUT, there for a while.

Fortunately, the class ends with 30 minutes of Lamaze exercises. There was enough room for all of the couples to spread out, so it didn't seem like you were lying on the floor surrounded by a bunch of strangers. It seemed, instead, like it was just me and T, at a yoga class or something. I realized, when the instructor had us do some weird, relaxation/trust type leg exercise, that I will be giving birth with the person that I trust most in the entire world as my "coach."

My best friend, the person who has never let me down. The guy who can just calmly look at me with his huge, hazel eyes and convince me that I am going to be just fine? He'll be right there while we do the next coolest thing we've ever done.

I'm so lucky. And honey? I apologize in advance for the things I'm going to say while in transition, okay?