Antenatal Class

Tonight we went to the last of three antenatal classes provided by the hospital.

As we approached the front of the building I noticed one of the other pregnant women from the class was sat outside on a bench, seemingly relaxing in the sun. But as we got closer I noticed something. No, it can't be, I thought. But yes, the heavily pregnant woman sat outside the hospital waiting for a class on, essentially, how to be a parent, was smoking a cigarette. It was appalling, and I usually reserve that word for sentences that also include the phrases tally ho and by jove, but it is the most apt way to describe the situation. How could this woman be so careless?

The class was about breastfeeding, a hot topic in our house at the moment. My wife is still unsure of whether she wants to do it, or for hold long. Frankly, the idea of it freaks her out, and I do sympathise. What I have found, during this pregnancy, is that I have my very definite opinions on what I'd like for my son, before and after his birth. I'll talk more about after he is born in another post, but the conclusion I came to a long time ago is that while he is inside my wife's belly, she has the final say. This decision hasn't come around because of an argument or disagreement, but because of the immense respect I have for my wife for carrying a growing child around for nine months. We've had many discussions about pain relief during birth, and regardless of my views, I completely side with my wife on what she wants. She hasn't totally decided yet, but ultimately, I will completely agree and essentially change my views to match hers on the matter, and I feel that is the best way to be.

Obviously, breast feeding occurs after birth (unless there are some really weird birthing styles out there), but again, it's directly relating to my wife's body. Whatever she decides to do will be the right decision, so far as I'm concerned, and I'll stand by her the whole way.

All three of the classes were informative, but in a ramshackle kind of way. The midwifes and nurses delivering each session essentially rambled their way through really useful information. I for one, never knew that when a baby first makes its appearance that it isn't a lovely pink colour. No, it's blue. Check that off the list of things that will freak me out. Also, once the baby is born, the midwifes (or is it midwives?) have to, and I quote, "Play around with the placenta a bit. Make sure it's all there and piece it together like a jigsaw." Give me Cluedo over that, any day. Finally, babies enjoy dumping when they're being fed. They also enjoy dumping while they are being burped. They enjoy dumping while they sleep and they enjoy dumping while they're awake. Give a baby a choice of a wide variety of activities and the chances are that they will enjoy dumping while doing it.

In all honesty, though, the classes taught me things I may not have known otherwise and have really helped build my confidence about the whole 'being a dad' thing. I left the class feeling a little bit more knowledgeable and a little bit more confident in the general world of parenting.

Until we passed the smoker, puffing away at another cigarette as she sat on the bus stop.

Kael

Father's Day

I've been meaning to do this for a while, so what better day than Father's Day to start?

The internet, bookshops and the hospital all provide a wealth of knowledge for new parents, but the vast majority of it, in my experience, is aimed towards the mums. And rightfully so. Mums are, after all, the ones who carry the baby. They go through all of the sickness, the backache, the mood swings. They are the ones who, at the end of nine gruelling months, go to the hospital and in a flurry of nurses, stirrups, needles and screaming have to... well, you get the idea.

So big respect to mums. They deserve all the help they get. But put that aside and you're left with the dads. Nobody tells us what we're supposed to be doing. Nobody hands us leaflets with handy information in comic sans printed inside. Nobody comes out to visit us. Which is why I've begun this blog. Not out of pity for us poor, uninformed dads, but in the hope that I can help someone see that, 'Pal, there are others out there as clueless as you, don't worry about it.'

My wife is two days away from being 34 weeks pregnant with our first child and our first son, Ellis. During these first 34 weeks we've been through a lot. Things which have made me look back and wish that I had started this blog a lot sooner. We've had emergency hospital trips, scans, monitoring and scares, but everything is fine and we're looking forward.

So Happy Father's Day to all the dads out there. In a years time I'll be celebrating this day with my 10 month old son. That is the most insane English sentence I have ever written, to date.

Kael