Good to see your voice. Yes, we've had a few classes. The one that is teaching us how to give birth--or, that my job is to never seem scared and always have ice chips on hand--is a 'hypnobirthing' seminar. It's too irresistible not to call this 'hippie birthing.' That said, for all of my attempts to be a post-sensitive guy, the basic premises are obviously correct. If you practice being able to relax with someone else helping you, providing a context you can bring with you to the Big Event, and you know what to expect, things will go better during birth.
Then again, as you point out, what do I know?
As for the real school, that of lived experience, we are already getting our turn at bat. No Dad-centric discussion would live up to its hype if there wasn't a story about man's best friend right off the bat (nor would it live up to its hype if we didn't use too many baseball metaphors, and who would want to strike out on their first blog post?) Sababa is our part Lab mutt. Her name means 'cool' in Arabic, like 'chill, ' and she lives up to the name. She had a thing removed from her leg. Full Surgery. Full Anxiety. Full Cost. Just learned tonight she is fine, just like the vet thought she would be. The growth, while funky, was benign and unlikely to ever return.
The thought that dominated both our thoughts, being just 1.5 months from due date, was: Full f. What happens when our kid needs a throat culture, let alone surgery? I was 2 months premature and had 5 (count 'em) Full Surgeries (anesthesia, knife, groin, throat) by the time I was 5. How cruel was I?
There's an old Pete Seeger song with the line 'Be kind to your parents/though they don't deserve it/being a parent/ is a difficult stage in life.' And we haven't even had the kid yet.
Chris
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