I'm sorry, I just went to childbirth class and lapsed into a coma.
I was very annoyed, because the only way to tour the hospital and find out exactly where to go and what to do when the little chickpea decides to make his/her entrance was to sit through the entire eight-hour course. I think we all know my control-freak tendencies make skipping the tour a total non-option. I NEED to know where to go and what to do when that day comes.
They pretty much covered the stages of labor, showed a few videos, and then took us on the tour. I was not bored because I went to nursing school, I was bored because the stuff they talked about is common knowledge to anyone with a copy of What to Expect and a cable subscription that includes TLC or the Discovery channel. There were a few hospital-specific tidbits about pain management and intra-/postpartum routines, but overall, I could've taught the class as a junior in college.
The most interesting part was that Stephen and I were the only couple, out of eleven couples, that did not know the sex of our baby. I know a lot of people find out ahead of time, but that really surprised me. It was also fun to look around the room and try to guess whether people were having boys or girls. I'm usually pretty accurate- low and wide can be either a boy or a girl, but basketballs are usually boys, in my experience. Not the case in our class., which puts me BACK in the position of "totally clueless" regarding the sex of this baby. I guess I still think it is a boy because when I think about it being a girl, I know I would be shocked, but when I think about it being a boy, it makes sense to me. I don't know.
Because we are total assholes, we also had fun mocking our classmates. In our defense, one girl was wearing a bright orange velour jumpsuit with her stomach hanging out the bottom- we had NO CHOICE but to mock her. The rest may or may not have deserved our snottiness, and I flatly deny all accusions related to either of us using the word badonkadonk at any point throughout the day.