Rabble-rousers

Well tonight we're off to our next childbirth education class. (Nothing says "exciting Friday night" like childbirth education... I'm sure everything will be back to normal after the baby is born and we can go out on Friday nights and stumble home on Saturday morning when the sun comes up. Right? RIGHT?!?)

Last week's class was an eye-opener. Not only did we realize that we were actually quite versed in childbirth technique, nomenclature, and logistics (you can't come from a Mormon family and NOT be!), but some of the people in the class were COMPLETELY CLUELESS! One person asked about the safety of walking around while she was in labor because she was worried that her baby would just fall out of her. I responded, "You should only be so lucky!" Margaret got targeted by the teacher (who is a little hardcore on the natural EVERYTHING) as a trouble-maker right off. Someone in class asked what kind of formula the teacher would recommend in case of low milk production or some other problem. The teacher looked horrified, replying, "You don't even want that in your HOUSE! It's like having cookies in the house while you're on a diet. If you have formula, you'll just end up using it!" To which Margaret spoke up: "And THAT would be the END OF THE WORLD!" (I wasn't in the room at the time, being that they'd separated the genders at that point, but I imagine that line being uttered completely dripping with a level of sarcasm that only a decade of living with me could have trained her for. Does my heart proud!) Later, after being told by the teacher that women only are in ACTUAL pain only two and half hours of a fourteen hour labor. (She was only counting the 30 to 60 seconds of pain from contractions, etc., saying that between them, a woman was FIIIIINE!) Well, Margaret had to speak up again, saying that that was like saying, "Here, let me punch you in the face. You'll only feel the strike for one SECOND!" Needless to say, the teacher wasn't amused.

I thought it was awesome. Plus, anything we can do to spread the word to the more inexperienced people in the class that using pain medications doesn't mean a woman has "failed" is fair game. (Actually, I don't even feel I have a say in THAT matter. I didn't give Margaret the right to tell my dentist not to give me anesthesia when getting a filling, and I'm not about to tell the doctor how much pain she should go through.)