Yeah, it kind of sucked. I am glad we went but … still. There were about twelve couples, including some teen-agers and their baby-daddies, plus our fearless instructor, who knew her stuff but was not very animated. Most of the couples were bland but some — like the guy who read a novel during class and the woman who came to class in sweats and pearls (and, yes, they were together) — were downright annoying.
I know that as a third-trimester pregnant woman, I should probably still not be so bitter. Sitting in this classroom with all these super-pregnant woman still got to me. It was obvious some of these couples were excited to be parents; it was also obvious some were not. Yet, presumably, all were there with healthy pregnancies. Life is not fair: they had not had miscarriages, let alone two in a row.
We did the “intense” course, which was Friday for three hours and Saturday for eight hours. It was exhausting, even though I found the subject matter interesting. It was nothing that I could not have gotten from a book, but Mr. MC and I had fun making snide comments (we were not rude; the instructor laughed with us) about the cheesy class material. “What are some things that will help moms relax in early labor?” “Whiskey?” “What should moms expect during the transitional phase of labor.” “Someone to bring her whiskey?”
The only really, really sucky part, however, was the tour of the birthing facilities and the postpartum floor tour. This is what I had been looking forward to the most as I had not yet seen one of the fancy new “birthing rooms.” They were, admittedly, very nice and without the huge bed in the middle, looked like a really nice hotel suite. The tub is not big enough for birthing, but plenty big for laboring in, and it was immaculately clean and filled with lots of muscle-relaxing jets.
After the birthing rooms, we walked past the nursery en route to the postpartum rooms. As luck would have it, there was an hour-or-so old baby in there getting her first bath. I could not believe how utterly beautiful she was. Mr. MC and I just stood there gawking at her with a handful of the other mothers. Everyone else in our group, however, was bored and whining. I wanted them to be in awe of this beautiful, healthy baby, too. Did they know how amazing and miraculous this little life was? I had two pregnancies that never resulted in one of these. How dare they sit there and complain about being bored? Fuckers.
Where I really lost it, however, was the tour of the postpartum floor. I have been hospitalized here twice: previously after my first miscarriage/post-D&C debacle and once this pregnancy with the hyperemesis. I guess I did not realize how much being there, especially with all these ungrateful idiots, would affect me. When I was admitted with the hyperemesis, I was so sick and drugged that I barely knew where I was. I felt a little sad, but mostly the nausea and migraines were so overpowering that I did not have time to think about the last time I was on this particular floor. This time around, however, it really hit me. It was really hard to contend with a flood of emotions about my previous pregnancies while at the same time listen to couples twitter on about whether the room they stay in will have a private shower.
Luckily, we were able to find a secluded corner where I could bawl my eyes out.
Does this resentment for annoyingly naive pregnant women ever go away?