14 December 2007
I've been taking a prenatal class for the last 5 weeks. John and I were practicing relaxing techniques before that, but as new parents we are taking all we can get from outside resources, though, this is not always good. Especially when a middle aged woman with no kids tells you how dangerous giving birth is, and how "not too long ago," women died. Thanks for helping. So how about the quilting club you belong to?
Anywho. I was talking about prenatal/yoga/mat sitting/ incense burning class. First of all, let me preface. Neither John or I are incense burners. John can't even sit Indian style and he's an Indian. Nonetheless, our mid-wife insists on a "relaxing atmosphere" that entails sitting on mats for 3 hours, and various, closing of the eyes, massages. By the end of the long haul, my butt insists that it's not a relaxing atmosphere, at all.
For a couple of weeks I couldn't take John, I guess there was information that he didn't necessarily need. I have no idea what that might have been, as I can't understand German. However, for the last two Tuesdays he has been allowed to attend and I've been able to have a little translation, though my mid-wife is really good at trying to talk to me in English.
Picture the scene. Six or seven very pregnant German women and a big haired American. Some with their other half, most without. All sitting on mats cushioned with birthing pillows. Naturally sitting up against the wall for more support, duh, plastic cups of tea in hand. My husband, oblivious to his wife's constant change of position for comfort, lounged with both pillows, half laying down, on the verge of slumber.
Of course I didn't tell him of my discomfort. I was hoping to give him an opportunity to be a gentleman (he is one, for the record), but somehow in between the eastern music and low lights he missed it, plus the fact he was exhausted. All the while our mid-wife was rambling on, in German, about emergency situations in childbirth. I could relate right then. I could just imagine what kind of looks I would have received if I had asked for a chair, "Can I have just a regular 'ol, everyday......chair please?" Ohhhhhh noooooo, we're relaxing. Sorry, I forgot. Somebody tell my butt we're relaxing.
On to the next phase of prenatal class. This includes a massage that we've done before. Just to make sure we are perfecting our relaxing technique, we do it again. My husband, this time, is my partner. He is handed two little plastic balls with spikes to rub all over my back. The balls vary in their degree of hardness, but with my husband's heavy hand, it matters little which one he uses. Needless to say, I'm turkey massaged. Good to go.
The funniest part was the breathing exercises that we did. Your partner is suppose to position their hands in various places down your back, including your saddle bags, so that you can "breath into them" and your partner is suppose feel it. John kind of gave up breathing into my hands, when it was his turn. I don't think he really knew what she was talking about. I didn't feel nothin'.
At 3 hours, the mid-wife tells us we have 10 minutes left. I tell myself, "I can hold on for 10 minutes." After 25 minutes I cared little about what was being said, much less in German, and up on my knees I went, like a light post. Times Up! I signaled. I'm sure I looked ridiculous shooting up like a bean pole while everyone else was still lounging. I had no choice, it was either that, or scream in pain. They might have thought I was going into labor. One more class to go.