Like any expecting mom, I’ve been looking at the childbirth and pregnancy-related classes offered at the hospital where I will give birth to Baby K. There is an extensive list of options so I recently asked Husband if he was interested in taking one (or a few) with me. This is the conversation that ensued between us:
Me: Do you want to go to any childbirth classes at the hospital?
Husband: (cutting his eyes at me) Why? What kind of topics do they cover? How much is it?
The one-time class is on a Saturday and it lasts all day, but it covers a lot of stuff.
“Anatomy and physiology of the baby and birth process.”
Pee-pee or no pee-pee, I don’t need a class for this.
You won’t be relaxed. That’s not in your vocabulary.
“Role of labor support person.”
Who’s that? (long pause) Oh, is that me?! (laughing)
“Physical and emotional postpartum care.”
Peanut’s gonna suck your boob, sleep, and fill diapers.
I don’t like you right now.
That’s because you love me. (smile)
What about a tour of the hospital and maternity ward?
I know where the hospital is, we drive by it going to the doctor’s office. I’ll find the maternity ward eventually. Where’s the cafeteria? I might get hungry waiting on you.
This conversation is over. I’m done.
It’s so easy to drive you nuts.