I was really hesitant to take the hospital childbirth education (CBE) classes, but they were the only ones offered, and they were covered by my insurance. I figured that at the very least, I would get a tour of the maternity floor, and it would be good for Dave. While I didn’t necessarily learn anything new, I do feel better about the decision to do it.

The instructor is very subtly pro-breastfeeding, pro-unmedicated birth, etc. I definitely got that vibe, even though she was careful to explain the other options. There were some stupid things she said, for sure, like "Okay, guys, I know it’s SUnday, and if you need to check the scores of a sporting event during break, there’s a tv across the hall!" and a few other stupid things like that, but I can imagine she says it because people ask.

After introductions, Dr Leo came in to talk to us. He’s a local pediatrician that is very into making your baby as smart as possible. He has a website that I won’t directly link to, but is at brilliantbaby.com.  (You should check it out, if only to laugh at the irony of a man obsessed with intelligence not having the smarts tohire a professional web designer and/or proofreader. I get that English is his second launguage, but REALLY. Also, on the sales flyer for his new self-published book, ‘Baby Math,’ he had two prices listed in two different places, so it’s either $15 or $17, but definitely "Less than the cost of 3 hamburgers or one sneaker!" SERIOUSLY.)  Dr Leo does a thing on Dave’s station’s morning show every two weeks or so, and he IS passionate, but unfortunately, about halfway through his spiel I was able to pin down who he sounded like. Unfortunately, it’s Pepe Le Prawn. The Muppet. "You count with the baby, okaaaay, you say "Baby! one! One ! One! Clap!" okaaaayyy." I was trying SO HARD to keep it together, and I did, but goddamn, it was a LOT of cheek biting.

At the break, another dad came up and was all "DAAAAAVVEE!" Dave had worked on a show for him, when asked what he’d been up to, the guy said "Selling cars and wrestling." Heh.

I think I’m the only one that asked questions, which were answered well:
"Do you have a wireless monitoring system?" — No, but intermittent monitoring is standard, because it’s better to labor upright and moving.
"Can we restrict visitors?" — yes, tell the nurse and they will honor your wishes wrt visitors. (When Amy delivered there, it was a year or so after a newborn was kidnapped from the floor, so security was INSANE for a few years, including a total of 3 hours of visitation a day, which frankly, almost sounds more appealing I think.)
"What do you mean by ‘shots and drops?" — Erythromycin and Vitamin K.

The nurse educator talked a lot about gravity and positioning in birth (as a positive thing) including all fours, squatting, etc… she tempered it with a "now, this might soundreally strange to some of you…" but I think she knew her audience. ANd that’s where the real "oh, I’m a freak…" feelings came in. There were 7 pairs there. 6 couples, and a mother/daughter. All different ages, it seemed, but all due in May. The things that were weird were like, "who plans to breastfeed?" My hand and one other went up. "Formula/Bottle feed?" brought out 3 more hands. 2 couples were undecided. Really? WEIRD.  All those having boys were having them circumcised. About half were asking for the epidural during the video.  It’s not that there’s anything WRONG with those things, and hell, I have no idea who these people are — maybe they aren’t nursing ebcause they lost their nipples to cancer or something, I truly don’t know. But I definitely felt like the weird hippie parents, and we aren’t *that* hippie-like.  I do wonder how the breastfeeding class will be, since everyone THERE will have at least considered the concept, right? ANyway. I left pleasantly surprised, honestly. There was even mention of the Leboyer method (she didn’t say his name, but I knew what she was talking about) so yeah, I guess i was glad it wasn’t "Oh, you’re here at EMMC, we don’t like stretchy vaginas, so let’s discuss C-section aftercare!" Maybe I worry too much.

The other event of the day was that dave continued work on the hallway. It was ready to be sanded, and Matt had said "it’s messier, but quicker, to use a powersander."  KNowing it would probably create dust, Dave sent me out for the day. SInce I couldn’t think of anything ebtter to do, I went to Target to stock up on postpartum supplies. Of course, OF COURSE, after I’ve loaded a damn cart with underpads, two different sizes of maxi pads, witch hazel, stool softener, breast pads, nursing bras, I hear a couple that works with Dave talking around the next corner. Normally, whatever, I know them because they are on tv every night, but they don’t recognize me on sight, BUT, this is the couple that A) she worked with Dave at the last station, B) we rented their old apartment out in Levant, C) They just moved to our neighborhood based on Dave’s recommendation, D) I saw him on the baseline at EVERY tournament game, and he was always very nice and courteous and asking about the baby and stuff. So, I know these people.

I rearranged the stuff in my cart so that the nursing bras were on top (she nursed their twins for quite some time) and turned the corner and kind of did a driveby "hey! how are you!" and didn’t really stop to talk. Because, HELLO, my cart was the sum total of EVERY EMBARRASSING THING you could buy in Target. Sigh. After that, dave still wasn’t done, so I went to the mall and got a smoothie, but my back and hips started to huuuuurrrrt, so I went to the dollar store, where I scored some plastic baskets to corral all of our supplies in the coming months. I plan on having a nursing supply basket, and a diapering supply basket, etc, so that when I need say, nipple cream, I can say "get the green basket." ANyway. Reaaaallly hurting by then, so I went through the carwash, picked up an rx, and went home.

Where I found one of the most stressful situations of my pregnancy.

3:45 pm, class is at 5, my husband is entirely covered in white dust. Now, he’d taped off the upstairs, but it’s sealed off for winter, and anyway, a thin film of white dust throughout the downstairs living room. Upstairs? Even worse. The bathroom, coated in white dust. Everything in the linen closet our bedding, the walls, floors, EVERYTHING. White dust. I did not freak out. (Well, out loud. Jeanne got an…. earful? of OMFG typed message over ichat) Holy. Crap.

Despite that, Dave took a shower and was able to get us to the class on time. We got out early, and I have wiped down the downstairs, and he’s working on the bathroom. Literally, floor to ceiling coated in white dust. Like it SNOWED or something. He’s working on the whole upstairs, really. It is SUCH a mess. I don’t even think that opening a window would necessarily help, it would prob just pull the dust into the rooms more. I don’t even know where to begin with cleaning the floors. It sucks. BAD.

Dave feels awful, too, I mean, he hasn’t even saved TIME by doing it this way instead of wet sanding, once you factor in the cleaning we have to do to recover. And with my asthma/allergies, on TOP of being very pregnant, he does feel really, really awful about it. But still! ARGH! Why didn’t he STOP when he realized what was happening? I very rarely bitch about Dave, I very rarely have reason to — but the situation upstairs is so frustrating right now. And I thought I was overwhelmed with the need to organize the baby room. (He hasn’t even opened that door yet, so who the hell knows what that scene is. It. Sucks.)

To recap:

CBE, not asbad as I expected. Postpartum supplies purchased. I may have to sleep in the dining room.