Our first class began with NWB arriving literally 30 seconds before it started with a 2-year old copy of Rolling Stone magazine ready to be perused. He was obviously traumatized by the extremely boring and mostly useless breastfeeding class we attended a few weeks ago that was two hours of a powerpoint lecture (seriously, Kaiser needs to pay an educator for a day’s worth of work to make their presentations somewhat useful. What human (adult or otherwise) can sit through a 2 hour powerpoint presentation?). I can’t say I blame him for having backup material, but it doesn’t inspire confidence in his birthing partner abilities.
Our class ended with an hour of “practice labor”, where we sat on mats in a darkened room while our instructor narrated our fake labor and told us to practice the “huh hee” method of rhythmic breathing. It was during this time that he 1. attempted (at the request of our instructor) to give me a face massage, which felt like a bear pawing at my face and 2. Leaned into my ear and whispered, “did you walk the dog?”. The combination of bear pawing and nagging questions during the portion titled “RELAXATION TECHNIQUES” was so absurd that I couldn’t help but start to laugh, which completely ruined the relaxation for all of the other birthing couples, who had their eyes closed in focused meditation. We are total A-HOLES.
Last week’s class culminated in complete and total outsider status. When the time came to do relaxation techniques, not only was there ONE couple without a birthing ball because they didn’t have enough, but this very same couple was left NO ROOM to lay out their (our) mat and be a part of the relaxation circle. The only place we could find to lean against a wall was behind the stack of chairs near the door (where no one could see us). It was totally humiliating. The continued absurdity of our participation, of course, led me to start cracking up at the beginning of rhythmic breathing, which I’m sure means that this week we will be forced to literally set up camp outside of the room. My one triumph was my newly learned ability to "ride the wave and focus" through the pain of having an ice cube in my hand for a minute (and presumably labor). I must be getting something out of this class!
In other news, I have a travel baby seat and a bed of nails in the back of my car (!). I have also reached the point in pregnancy where I literally have roll out of bed (usually in pain) every morning. For so long (probably until a month ago) I didn’t even look pregnant! I thought it was so awesome that I was “getting away with it”. I felt like I could finally empathize with those people who "don't know they are pregnant" and then give birth on the toilet. Now, I look and feel hugely pregnant. Maternity leave starts in 3 weeks (do not even get me going on this again!) and the baby is due in five. I can’t wait to move on from fetus to newborn phase. According to babycenter, I will know that the baby loves me if he stares into my eyes, memorizing my face. WHAT IF HE DOESN’T? A whole new set of worries is starting to appear in my head.
Finally, we went to the Legion of Honor in SF a few weekends ago to see the exhibit on Pissarro. It was a super enjoyable experience. It took about 40 minutes to get through, which included listening to every number on the audio guide and I learned so much—about Pissaro’s favorite daughter, his pivotal role in developing the impressionist movement and about the true meaning behind anarchy! Whoever designed that exhibit was awesome and it, of course, made me think about how curating an exhibit is just like teaching--it’s figuring out a way to present information that is understandable and somewhat enjoyable. If the exhibit is too complex or dry, then it’s just bad. I have this tendency to internalize my hatred of art exhibits and blame myself for not knowing enough or being bad at abstract thought, when really there is some blame to be placed on the presentation of the exhibit. Now I want to work in a museum (but who doesn’t?).
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