33 weeks 1 day. 48 days to go.
This weekend we had our childbirth class, one more thing to check off the list. I learned a few things that I hadn’t already known from all my research but most of which was just hospital policies and not so much what was going to happen.
E learned how to sponge bathe, diaper and swaddle. He started each task making a joke out of it but by the end of each one he was taking it pretty seriously and really trying to do it right. We also did some labor massage (which was pretty awesome today, not going to lie 😉 ) and I think he learned some more about what is going to happen and the support I am going to need. The best thing was that he never once went into a “bad mood”, which is what I was nervous about. Each time we had a break he was cracking small jokes and never really complained once. Plus, he didnt feel great and accidentally took tylenol PM this morning before we left!! I was really, really proud of him. I hope some of the knowledge sticks around for the next 7 weeks. It also got him talking about several options and it’s a good thing that we are both on the same page considering I had already made these decisions!
Unfortunately, even though they went over a ton of hospital policies we didnt get a hospital tour so I signed us up for one on August 10th. I figure if I go into labor before then for whatever reason it wont be a huge deal if we don’t have the tour but it gives us something to do in August while we are waiting for our little man to arrive.
All in all I am glad we went, even if it’s just to say we GOT to go to childbirth classes.
I did find myself feeling angry at several of the women in the class with us. Three of them couldn’t come up with ONE thing that they liked about being pregnant and just kept saying they want it over with. Even though I am pregnant, my mind still went back to everything infertility and I wanted to shake them and scream at them for how lucky they were to be pregnant. How they should be treasuring every minute even if they were a little uncomfortable. We got to talk to several of the couples and 2 of them were “accidents”, one was a one night stand and one of the others tried for 3 whole months. I sat there and cringed at each of these stories and my heart broke for E and I a little all over again. Everything we went through to get here and these women were just acting as if it made no difference to them that they were pregnant.
I was sitting there still marveling at each kick to the ribs, punch to the bladder and loving the feeling of my stomach lurching from side to side with his movements. These women were bitching and complaining about the same feelings. HOW IS THAT POSSIBLE?! Yes, I understand it can get uncomfortable but still, OMG there is a baby inside of you learning to stretch, roll, kick and punch. How fucking amazing is that? To get the reassurance that your baby is still thriving. There is no better feeling in the world to me and it’s hard for me to comprehend how anyone can feel differently.
It sounds like I am judging these woman and maybe I am being too harsh but I almost feel bad for them that they didn’t have trouble getting pregnant. It would seem that having the love and appreciation over being pregnant is a much better situation then hating and resenting being pregnant… Not that I would wish infertility on anyone, it just touches a place in my heart when I see and hear that someone isn’t enjoying and appreciating it.
I am off to get into a warm bath with a nice book, my essential oils diffusing and continue to enjoy the wonders of everything happening in my body.