Second class

Thursday was second class - no, not a referral to our skills at prospective parenting, rather the second of our three 2-hour classes on what to expect when giving birth and beyond.

This one was a little different from the last. Rather than finishing with a birthing video, it started with a birthing video. Only this time it was one of "man not of woman borne" as the Bard would say. (i.e., a caesarian).

When this was mentioned I was instantly sent into the land of squirm, cos if theres one thing I like even less than seeing a watermelon pooped out a womans front bottom, its watching some geezer in a lab coat cut someone up while they're awake. Cos this is what they do these days with ceasers - by using a spinal block mum can just lie there and feel a bit of tugging and pulling, until suddenly a bloodied bub is miraculously flopped onto their boozies. I know - I saw the video.

Ok, i'll admit, the vid was pretty well done as you never actually saw the gore, just the impression that theres a lot of people hanging about (like around 12) in lab coats doing "stuff". All bright lights and face masks.

But we survived.

There was then lots of talk about how a baby can come out, and why. Firstly stuff about inducing the baby if its taking too long or things get complicated or waters broken - all stuff where there is a risk of complications if its left to nature. Inducement can be via synotocin drip (an artificial form of the hormone oxytocin, which causes contractions, and is almost always used to birth the placenta too), having sex, walking about, or even castor oil and orange juice (ewwwkk... think i'd stick with the shagging).

Then there were the ways of giving birth - naturally of course, or using forceps or suction cups (the preferred option these days if needed) and the cut (caeser).

What AB almost didnt survive was the lectures on the evils of chemical assisted pain relief. Oh lordy.

Now let me say here that the nice lady running the class is, well, very nice. But the game where we were handed cards on the use of "the gas", pethidine or an epidural and their advantages and disadvantages almost had AB leaping out of the chair. Each list of "disadvantages" was about twice as long as the "advantages", but THERE WAS NO RISK LEVEL mentioned. In other words, for epidurals, a severe headache which requires a further medical procedure to alleviate (which we later learned through our questions, that the midwife lady had only ever seen once in all her years of nursing) was given equal weight as the temporary inability to walk about, which always happens.

"Is that a side effect or a risk?" AB asked about one such complication.

I dont think she understood what that meant.

And thats not even mentioning the fact that so much emphasis was on what could happen (without mentioning the level of risk), and virtually no time spent on what good it could do for you (such as being able to sit and read the paper and have the thing pop out, no worries, here's your new life thank you very much). Argh...

As an example... lets, say, that instead of talking about giving birth to your heir (or spare), we're talking about walking in to work via the park. (Do not read if suffering anxiety issues...)

Walking to work via the park

Advantages	Disadvantages
Fresh air	Tiredness
Exercise	Late for work/boss sacks you
Sunshine/Vitamin D	Hit by errant bus/car/unicycle
No Greenhouse gases	Tree falls on head
	Trip on crack in footpath
	Hit by falling meteorite/space junk
	Get thirsty
	Struck by lightning
	Pooped on by a birdy
	Breathe in fumes/carcinogens
	Get sweaty
	Meet kid you teased/now kickboxer
	Wear out shoes

Clearly if we knew nothing, this walk would appear extremely problematic and dangerous, and only a fool would ever consider it..... but in the real world we know the risks of each, and hence (unless you're American) you walk to work through the park whenever you can, cos the disadvantages (multiplied by the risk of each) are still faaaar outweighed by the advantages.

See....?

Having said that, the teacher did admit that virtually all women who have an epidural say its the way to go (mateee...), and that they (and kiddies) dont suffer horrendous future complications, deformities or lives ruined, forced to sue the hospital and crush medicare as we know it just to cover the lifelong nursing fees.

The class finished with another tour of the horse-piddle to show us the rooms that we'll inevitably be visiting in a few weeks time, which is greatly reassuring, before nice-lady teacher (she is, really...) took us to the womens resource library where we borrowed the "Being Dad" DVD -which we've just watched as I type. (Well, the 15 minutes on labour anyway.) When its not showing a woman crowning, its blokes in a pub sinking coldies and trying to outdo each other with all-too-candid details about their respective women's birth experience - probably to the total horror of their significant other. In vino veritas. Top stuff.

But this of course means that we have now, voluntarily, in the comfort of our own home, cant believe i'm saying this... watched yet another woman pooping a watermelon. (Or, as I once heard an African woman quoted as saying;
"It goes in like a banana, comes out like a pineapple.").

Two classes down, one to go. Next week we learn what do post-pop. (Surely the answer is... Panic?!?!) Print this post