I started my Childbirth classes on Tuesday. I don't know if they'll be helpful or not. I guess after I give birth I'll know if the information they provided was helpful or not. The lady teaching the class seems pretty knowledgable and she keeps the class from being boring, so that's a plus.
Since Stonewall isn't here my sister, Megan, is going to the classes with me and she'll be my coach on the big day. However, I've already forbidden her to use some of the techniques that are being taught in the class. For example, a card was handed out that included some of the things that can be said to the laboring woman to help keep her calm during her time of immense pain. These include, in the most Susie Sunshine voice, of course: "That was a good contraction." and "Your body knows what it is doing." Um, no.
We learned some relaxation/breathing techniques. While I'm not against using these techniques, I prefer drugs which we will be learning more about next week. These techniques included Megan telling me to "Relax you thighs. Feel how your feet and ankles and calves and thighs are relaxed." Yeah, okay. The teacher also made sure to let us know that in the area that we live, babies tend to be bigger than the national average when they are born. Crap.
I got a little miffed at some of the dudes in the class. We were on a break and were waiting in line for the unisex bathrooms. There were two guys, another pregnant woman, Meg, and I in the line. Now, granted the two guys were ahead of me and the other pregnant woman, but when the bathrooms finally opened up you would have thought they would have been courteous enough to let us go ahead of them. After all they live with a pregnant woman they should know that our bladders are about as tiny as their...well, that's just an assumption on my part. But, no. (If there is one thing I've learned during this pregnancy it's that if someone doesn't personally know the pregnant woman, they don't give a crap. I have never had anyone, who isn't friend or family, offer to help me carry heavy grocery bags, offer to let me go ahead of them in a bathroom line, or offered me their seat if I'm standing.)(Actually, what made me realize this was when I was at the Armory a few weeks ago and I was carrying boxes from my car upstairs to the FRG closet and not a single person offered to help. This included other wives and even some soldiers. I was just like, "Wow.")
Moving on...
There was one part during the class that I got a little teary eyed. We were watching a video about the early stage of labor and throughout the video and the class one of the topics is how to offer support to the pregnant woman. They only refer to the father lending support and being there for his pregnant wife. This made me incredibly sad because I know Stonewall will probably not be there. Not that I won't have all the support I need from Megan, my mom, Dani (SIL), and Deb (MIL), but I want Stonewall to be there. I want him to be the one rubbing my back and holding my hand and saying, "Your body knows what it's doing."
It's so confusing sometimes. I know that the reason Stonewall isn't here is a very good reason and I'm so proud of him for what he does for our country. However, there are times I want to say, "F*** the military. F*** Uncle Sam. I want you here. You should be here with me." I want to be a good military wife, but I also want Stonewall with me on the biggest day of our lives, of our son's life. I know I'm not the first military wife to go through this without her husband and I know I won't be the last, but that's doesn't make it any easier for me right now. That doesn't make me less confused and less sad and less lonely.