Last night, we had the breastfeeding class. It was 99% boring, and almost a total wash, IMO, because I’m listening and thinking "Well, DUH. I KNOW that already." It was more than 2 hours long, with a video, and then a lactation consultant repeating everything that was said in the video, with a few hospital policy tidbits thrown in.  The pros were that I got to hear/see one of the hospital’s LCs, who is not only certified, but exclusively nursed all three of her kids for at least a year.  I think it was good for Dave to hear that it isn’t automatic, and takes practice, and that when the baby needs to feed in the hospital, it will probably help mom to relax if visitors are sent away for a while. (Um, not Dave, but our families and such. Dave gets to stay, but I can see him being the rational voice at the time, ushering people out with a "try back in an hour" command or something.) 

I’m really anxious about that 12hr window of visiting hours.  I KNOW that people are excited to see the baby and stuff, but I’m just already feeling protective of that time, or whatever. I know that I don’t want to call people when I go to the hospital, because I don’t want a crowd waiting to pounce on us when the baby is born. I’ve been on the other side, though, waiting just outside the door when Amy had her first, and driving like hell from Western NY when she had her second, and visiting asap. (Amy, you’re obviously excluded from this call/not call/no visitors thing) I KNOW the excitement, but I just don’t want to feel like I have to perform or produce because people are tapping their feet elsewhere.

I’m starting to flesh out my birth preferences, which are pretty basic and not too militant — or, don’t seem to be militant now that I know more about hospital policy. I’d like to be able to move around, use the shower and birth ball, and avoid continuous monitoring. I’d like to avoid medications, etc as well. I want the baby skin-to-skin and at the breast ASAP, and I want it rooming-in with me. I don’t want the Hep B vax given in the hospital (it’s one that I’m planning on declining, as we keep all our used needles in the TOP cupboards here), and if a boy, we don’t want a circumcision. I would like a visit from the LC to check on us (which may be standard? I wasn’t sure on that) and that’s about it, I think… as far as music or lighting, I don’t know, maybe I’ll fire up my iPod and bring that, and lights have switches, right? I want to keep it fairly simple and basic.

I have my worries, too. I’m planning on asking my OB what the chances are that she’ll be the one to actually catch the baby, because the doc on call that weekend (I know, I know, first timers usually go 8days after their due date,but still) I’ve heard nothing but bad — maybe not bad, maybe others prefer it, but bad compared to my ideals — things about. I worry that Amy won’t make it up here in time (which again, is probably stupid to worry about, as 2 hours isn’t necessarily average for a labor, and even with arranging childcare and stuff, I’m sure she’d make it in time). I worry about positioning of the baby, size of the baby, etc, or going to the hospital at my breaking point, and finding out "oh, you’re 1-2 cm dilated, go home!"  I worry about my funky nipple screwing with breastfeeding — it’s healing well, but I worry about the scar tissue screwing things up.

But then, I realize that no matter what I plan, or prefer, or worry about, ultimately it’s not entirely up to me. I can try my damnedest, but I can’t guarantee anything. One of my LJ friends had a baby a few months ago, and I followed the treatment of her baby’s jaundice, something that happened despite her (undoubtedly) doing everything ‘right.’ In the past few days, she’s been using her LJ to update friends and family of one of her friends who just had a baby, another person who seems to be one that did everything ‘right,’ and yet the position of the baby necessitated a c-section, and the baby needed to go to a NICU in another hospital while mom recovers in the hopsital she delivered at. I read that, and my heart just ACHES for all of them — I worry about visitors interrupting my time with learning the baby, and I can’t imagine how devastating it must be to not even be in the same building, and have the worries that come with NICU care, and I am devastated for her partner, because I picture Dave in that situation — trying to juggle the two most important people in your life while they are at two different hospitals, oh, it just makes me well up. (M, I’m really keeping your friends in my thoughts over the last few days, despite not having any idea who they are IRL, so know that even strangers are pulling for them.)

I think of that, and everything else pales in comparison. My worries seem so trivial, because I just can’t even fathom what the bigger unknowns could be.