2 Down...

Last night we went to our second birthing class. It was a total bust. In fact, saying "we" went isn't entirely accurate.

On our way there, we stopped by campus to turn in Hank's math assignment only to find out that 1/2 the assignment was left on his desk at home. In an attempt to be mature, I dropped myself off at the hospital and acted supportive as he drove back home and back to campus. I assumed that couldn't take much longer than 30 minutes...

I walked in and chose a seat in the last row, figuring it would be a vast improvement from last week's front row decision. A few minutes later, I felt awkward like sitting back there was bringing even more attention to my missing birthing partner and unladylike sitting position. So I moved up a few rows, directly behind a girl with a big head. Then I moved over one seat, perhaps too close to the young girl and her mother sitting in my row. Everything felt awkward.

Looking around, I noticed 1/3 the birthing partners were missing. What creative excuse did they came up to avoid attendance, clearly none of them could have been as sneaky as Hank's! I also noticed the TMI couple husband was wearing a cough mask, perhaps he could have considered the weakened immune systems of the pregnant audience and stayed home with the other men?

We began the class by going over the epidural...the ONE thing I really needed Hank there for. I stumbled upon a video a few months ago of one being given and dry heaved for weeks. Theres just something about a huge needle going into the spongy tissue of my back that doesn't rest well with me. I get very queasy and could have used a little "coaching." Of course my 30 minute estimate proved a little too conservative, as Hank showed up about 45 minutes later at the conclusion of the epidural.

Shortly after his arrival, the mature attitude I set out with went into hiding, only to be replaced by a flood of emotions. Hank and I started fighting, a fight that didn't have a quick 'pretend that never happened 'solution. A few factors are to thank: hormones, a terrible day, a sensitive subject and a late husband.

We were forced to leave and take our outburst elsewhere, missing what was supposed to be the "best" class (according to our teacher). Perhaps I should have taken a hint from my original awkward feeling and left then and there.

Instead, we left another great impression with our classmates, proving our readiness to be parents.

After two humiliating experiences, the real question is whether we will show our faces in class 3 and 4. I can't help but think back to my doctor's words "you don't have to attend a birthing class to have a successful pregnancy." I knew I liked him...