Wednesday, April 10,
2002.
Number of weeks until I'M A DADDY! ... FOUR and a
HALF ! !
(I miscounted last week.) Can you believe
it??
Abby gave some of the good O+ stuff for Amy last week (indirectly). :-)
I agree
with Winnie,
Luckykat
is really a closet-Korean. Don't
be ashamed girl! :-)
B.Y.O.B.
(Bring Your Own Boobies ... er, Babies)
ME: “Should I go with you to this breastfeeding class?”AMY: “You don’t have to. It’s no big deal.”
ME: “What am I going to be doing there anyways?”
AMY: “They probably have a place for the husbands to sit, while they’re teaching us.”
ME: “Can I be the breast-feeding doll then? Aw yeahh.”
AMY: “No.”
ME: “Hmm. Do they even allow men there? I mean am I going to see all these pregnant women with their breasts exposed?”
AMY: ”I don’t think so.”
ME: “I’ll go. Let me get my camera.”
You can lead a horse to water, but you can’t make it drink.
Unless that "horse" is a man, and that "water" is a roomful of women with estrogen-eriffic breastesses, and the "drink" part involves live demonstrations on how to suck sustenance from them. I suppose.
I really went to be a supportive husband. I brought my Korean language book along in case I got bored. And my camera too, of course.
The breastfeeding class was at the Lil Empire offshoot of the Big Empire where I work at. The Lil Empire is a lot cushier and ritzier. I've heard that the really sick and the less privileged usually get transferred to the Big Empire.
“Looks like a hotel,” I said looking around.
“I call this place Club Emp(ire),” Amy said as we walked through the four-star accomodations.
“Everyone calls it that,” I told her.
“But I made it up first,” She said.
“No you didn’t. People have been calling it that for years,” I corrected.
“Really? I thought they were just copying off of me.”
Amy led the way through a maze of stairways and back passages to the classroom area below (or was it above, I can’t remember).
The first classroom we walked into had a bunch of postpartum moms with their already-delivered babies in their arms. I know we were running late, but not THAT late.
“Real babies. Wrong room,” Amy said carrying her fuzzy stuffed tiger in a diaper to the next classroom.
When we found the correct room, there were a dozen couples already. Almost all with their husbands present.
We sat at a table with another couple. Other tables spoke amongst each other but ours didn't. The other couple was as scared of us as we were of them. It was kind of awkward. But that's why I brought a book!
Our stuffed tiger in a diaper was definitely the cutest faux-baby there. Cabbage patch kids and those scary glassy-eyed bald dolls just don’t compare. I thought it would have been funny if we brought ... The LIGER! as our baby.
"Good thing you came. I would have been the only one without a daddy," Amy whispered to me. There were only two other mothers there without their baby's daddies.
Baby Boy was quiet inside Amy’s belly, she said. I think he detected other baby minds in the room. My Baby Boy knew something was afoot. Babies can feel mommy’s emotions. Maybe the babies were all telepathically communicating....
Baby Boy: “Hey, how much time you got?”
Baby #1: “’Bout eight weeks, but I kind of like it here.”
Baby Boy: “Me, I’m aiming to bust out early if I can. This is cramping my style.”
Baby #2: “I hear you. I keep getting bopped by this one-eyed snake in here. I’m going to grab it the next chance I get!”
Baby Boy: “You go baby girl! I keep hearing this strange voice coming from outside at home. Either my daddy is smooshing his face while talking to me, or he has a speech impediment.”
Then we waited. About a quarter after, the infant massage instructor came in telling us she was unable to find whoever was supposed to teach the breast-feeding class tonight.
Amy immediately went into pregnant momma work-mode then. She called the operator and had them overhead page the name she thought belonged to the instructor. Then she called her coworker at home to try to get some other numbers.
One thing about Amy is that she often talks a lot louder than she realizes, especially on the phone. She practically yells. I think it's because she had to, just to be heard at home when she was growing up. Plus, since pregnant, she cares a lot less about what people think or hear anyways. Not that she was shy in the first place.
When Amy reached her coworker on the phone, the chit-chat in the room went quiet all of a sudden.
"Hi Jenna! This is Amy!! I'm at that breastfeeding class! We've got a dozen pregnant women here and their husbands too and NO INSTRUCTOR!! Can you believe it?! That's okay though, everyone else brought a pillow, and I forgot mine!!"
Unbeknownst to Amy (really), the room laughed out loud at that point. I kind of stared at the pages of my Korean book hoping Amy wouldn't say anything I wouldn't want a roomful of people surrounding us to hear. (Reading about it on the internet is fine though.)
"I paged her name overhead. What?! Oh. Oops.”
After more calls, Amy was unable to get a hold of anyone and it was a half hour past the class time. Everyone ended up leaving then.
“Someone’s going to hear from me in the morning!!” Amy ranted.
“Baby, they ALL heard you,” I explained.
I was glad. I wasn’t too thrilled with sitting there for the three hour class time. I didn’t really think I was going to see a roomful of maternally-enhanced exposed breastage anyways. Which I should add, is a very nice thing for the guys at least. I’m not saying bigger breasts are better, just that the variety is an unexpected expectant bonus. The male curiosity is the male’s downfall. But at least when your woman becomes pregnant and hormonally super-sized, you can say, “Ah, so this is what another size breast feels like ... not as different as I imagined, actually.” Curiosity resolved. See? Mother Nature cares about the guys too!
“You know that woman I had paged overhead?” Amy asked.
“Yeah, the class instructor?”
“Actually, my coworker told me that was one of her patients. Oops!”
“It’s okay. We don’t need a class anyways. We can read a book and you can practice with me!” I lasciviously suggested.
“A class is easier. I’ll reschedule for later this month,” Amy answered.
Later this month means I won’t be able to attend the class with Amy. I am actually working the evening shifts at The Big Empire hospital this month, starting at 5 p.m.
I kind of feel bad having Amy go by herself. And for all the expectant mothers who don’t have a husband either, I guess. Going to a class like this by yourself is bad enough. Having to go through the entire experience alone, I can't really imagine.
Otherwise, Amy has been feeling great, except she goes to sleep at 8 or 9 p.m. most nights, even though she's always wondering who's on Saturday Night Live this week. She's quite ready to be done with this baby-carrying thing.
