We get to the hospital around 9am, and after a few "it's-too-damn-early-leave-me-alone" arguements about which street to park on, we get in a nice shady garage spot and start the trek to the class. Carrie spies a group ahead of us with protruding bellies and pillows, so we decide to follow those folks; they seem to know where they're going.
Our assumption was right--we follow them straight in to the class. there are about a dozen couples here, with at least four sets of twins! Fertility drugs FTW (that means "for the win" for you noobs)!
Our instructor's name is Melissa, and she has five kids of her own. She's probably around my age or so, and I think having an instructor who has five children and still looks young and pretty reassured the women in the room somewhat.
We started the day off with name tags and introductions, and we paired up with another couple to "interview" them, and then we introduced them to the group. The whole room was introduced, and we had quite a menagerie of folks, from students to lawyers and investment types. Of course, I had to brag a bit about Carrie's Magical Womb of Power and how we just found out a month ago... yada, yada, yada. Every woman in the room gave Carrie a dirty look, I think. That's the effect of the Magical Womb of Power.
We were handed workbooks, which we didn't use a lot in the class, probably due to the fact that we were crash-coursing this stuff. We discussed the medical/science side of things, which even still ellicits a giggle or two from guys in the room. Believe it or not, it wasn't me this time.
Though it was an early morning after a typically sleepless night, I didn't find myself nodding off. I've discovered that really listening and concentrating will keep me awake most of the time. I finally used that train of thought for something constructive for once.
Carrie was a real trooper. Even as the class was barely starting, I was reminded of how much of a rock she is; how well she is taking this pregnancy. All these other women needed their feet propped up and had to lay out on the bed and etc.; Carrie could've just as easily been plowing the fields, as resilient as she is. Now, don't get me wrong; I don't less of these other women because they are "soft" or "have needs," but I bet Carrie could kick their asses.
We took lunch at noon, and Carrie and I hit up the cafeteria. This cafeteria cheats, by having stuff like Chik-Fil-A and other pre-made stuff. It was good, but I miss Saint Francis' home cookin'. At lunch, we sat near a walk-through area, and I was reminded that a hospital is a place mainly for sick people, not just for the joy of childbirth.
Sitting behind us was a family, and at the head of the table was a woman in a wheelchair, probably about 60, and it was obvious she was having radiation treatments. Her family flanked her, helping her to eat and trying to maintain a happy facade as they worked through lunch. A kid of maybe 10 or 13 came walking through, in his gown and stockings, with his right hand on the rolling tree holding his IV bags. I caught his eyes for a brief second, and swear he could've made me break with a smile.
After lunch, we regrouped for a tour of the birthing facilities. We trekked down the hall and went into one of the birthing rooms, and managed to pack everyone in. Some poor sap was asked to play guinea pig, and he lay down on the bed and Melissa showed us all some of the different positions recommended for delivery. Did you know that "doggy style" is an actual birthing position? They also discussed squatting while holding a rail over your head, as well as gripping the ceiling fan and pulling the knees toward the chest. Okay, that was a stretch, but believe me when I say that I was amazed.
When we returned to the lobby, we had to move quickly, as the air-evac team was coming through with a bed. there wasn't a person on the bed, but two tanks and a small box-like tent. I think everyone knew at that point that it was a baby, and I could just hear the distress from the mothers-to-be, as well as us dads. Later in the day, we found out that the baby most likely came from one of the birth clinics, and required attendance at the lvlIII NICU at Baylor. They have to air-evac the babies there when that need arises. Yet another great reason to have a kid at Baylor (or at Saint Francis for you folks in SEMO; they also have a leading Level III NICU (Neonatal Intensive Care Unit)).
Also while we were in the lobby, a group of Asian people, one dressed in priest's clothing, came in. They headed towards the OR waiting rooms, and I could only assume they were here because of the bus crash that happened earlier. Read more about that here: http://www.dallasnews.com/sharedcontent/dws/dn/latestnews/stories/080808dnmetbusaccident.2646008e.html
Again, the mortality of mankind hit me like a sledgehammer, and I just thought about everything I must do to prepare the world for my daughter... and to prepare my daughter for the world. It's a scary place, but I managed to make it okay so far, and I'm sure my daughter will be able to outsmart me, which will be a feat in itself.
We heard from one of the anethesiologists at the medical center, and he informed us of all the things that are involved when you look at epidurals. Carrie wants to try to have things roll naturally, but we're keeping the option open. Even though everything has been, well, perfect so far, there is no doubt in my mind that this will freakin' hurt, especially with my buffalo head in the genetic mix.
At the end of the day, we wrapped things up with relaxation and breathing. Melissa had us all get on the floor, and I picked a spot where I could lean up against a chair behind me. The chair was leaning up against a bed or something; it doesn't matter, really. Carrie sat between my legs, and i put the pillows and blanket between us so she could get very comfortable. We closed our eyes and practiced breathing together.
While all of this peaceful time was going on, Carrie was sitting on my femoral artery, so the bloodflow to my left leg was gone. I couldn't say anything or shift around; this was a zen-like, peaceful meditation for an entire room of pregnant white women. I'd be shot.
Once she had the moms relaxed, Melissa started with the dads. "Picture yourself on the day the baby decides to come." I'm naturally tense from the leg, and now this? Nice.
"Think of the things you need to grab from the house, and then picture helping mom into the car. Think of the roads you'll take to get to the hospital, and the picture yourself sweating--" Did I hear that right? No, surely not--"yourself PARKING and getting mom inside." Ah, okay; I'm hearing things now.
At this point, my leg feels like needles are covering it, pressing randomly over a thousand points. On top of the pain in my leg, I can't help but picture the goofiest, worst-case scenarios during this "relaxation" period. I see us checking in at the hospital, and the receptionist is this big sister, on the phone with her cousin, saying something like, "Ooh, girl, I know... But he was cute though and I was drunk anyway... [to us] Um; can I help you?"
I'm doing my best to relax, but I know my face is betraying me. Finally, after about 10 minutes of relaxation, We're dismissed for the day. I hobble up onto my right leg, and feel the immediate relief of a mad rush of blood to my left side. Ahh... now I'm relaxed.
In all sincerity, we did learn a lot. I feel much more prepared for this whole thing now (remember, I never took health class in school), and feel like Carrie and I can handle the world. We've been so incredibly blessed and lucky so far, and I know that our adventure is just beginning. I just wish the hospital validated parking...
10 August 2008: During yesterday's class, I received a call from J. C. Penney's, and our crib finally came it. Actually, let me rephrase: Our crib came in on the first, it just took them eight days to call me about it. Sigh. I resolved to make this day, Sunday, pick-up-and-put-together-the-crib day.
I got to Penney's, and waited in line at customer service behind a family that looked like they had more returns than the store had inventory. Finally, another rep stepped up and told me I needed to go to the catalog section. Makes sense; shows how much I actually shop.
I arrived at the catalog section and was greeting by a petite, mousey girl of maybe 20. I showed her my receipt, and her eyes widened as she realized what they had to get out of the warehouse. Her assistant? Maybe 20 pounds heavier than her... I volunteered to get the bed out for them, but they said they would take care of it.
Fast-forward to home, where I seamlessly put the entire thing together. Have a look:
Yeah, I think I did pretty good, too. We don't have the bedding on it yet, but you get the basic idea.
So now, baby Layla has a place to sleep, a place to swing, a place to play and a bunch of stuff to throw up on and poop in. Our essentials that we have left are the high chair (which we're looking at tonight when we have dinner at Sam & Lois' house), diaper genie and stroller/travel system thingy. I'm amazed that we've been able to prepare what we've needed in such a short time, but we've had great family, friends and luck on our side. Not to mention that Carrie and I are superheroes... Ha!
* * *
We head back to the doctor this afternoon, and we aren't meeting with our regular doctor, but a stand-in as ours is on vacation. Great timing, eh? I look at it like we've only seen her a few times, so really we're not dedicated to her only. It does tend to make one nervous, though. All should be fine; this is more of a check-up to see what Carrie's cervix is like, and hopefully Layla decided she needs to cook a bit more. More to come soon!
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