Being taught how to give birth is a strange sensation. Being at the lesson with my lovely flatmate, while the rest of the room is full of couples is also a little odd. But this is how I spent last Saturday morning. Have travelled to the hospital with a birthing ball, fully inflated, on the bus. Let’s just say that it’s not the way I spend many Saturday mornings.
I loved the session and the midwife leading it was great, but the couples rather freaked me out at times. There were the ones that had morphed together so much that only the man was capable of speaking. The ones that seemed worryingly keen on any pain relief going (perhaps I am just naive not wanting to be in that particular camp). The ones that wanted exact times/durations for every stage, including precisely how long they’d have to wait until ‘the passage’ returned to its normal size….
Maybe I’m stupidly not as concerned about it all as I should be. Maybe this should freak me out more than it does. But personally I’m quite looking forward to it all. And managed to leave the session feeling much more confident than when I went in.
The only real downside to the session? Getting the birthing ball all the way there only for it not to be needed and to be left to sadly deflate. The offending hole was located so the now-wrinkly ball was disposed of.
Next for me – Natal Hypnotherapy. I’ll let you know how it goes…