OK, so I'm terrified...

Let me start out by saying what happened last night in my Childbirth Preparation class is extremely embarrassing. But I'm writing about it anyway. After all, I'm only human...and sometimes these humbling things happen for a reason...

The teacher warned us last week: "The next class has some very graphic videos. So if you tend to get woozy, I suggest you sit in the back of the room so you can step out easily."

JR and I sat in the front.

I don't really like seeing blood and needles and the like but I figured I'd just close my eyes. I chatted a bit with the woman next to me, both of us saying we didn't want to see the needle and that we were going to look away. But as the scene of the epidural came on, my eyes were glued to the screen in something between horror and amazement. Oh that's not so bad, I thought. I can totally watch this stuff.

A few minutes later I started feeling very hot--not so abnormal for being 7 months pregnant. Then the nausea came. I casually got up to go to the bathroom although it wasn't for the usual reason--I felt like I was going to faint. In the bathroom I thought, What's wrong with me??? Please God, just let me get through this class... And after a couple minutes of humming a soothing song to myself, I felt better and strolled back into class.

As the teacher continued on about the different devices they can insert inside you to monitor the baby, the hot flashes and nausea slowly returned. We passed around the long plastic tubes and hooks and clamps. I inspected each with almost a cool, medical-like curiosity. That's the strange part: I didn't feel any emotions. I didn't feel grossed out or nervous or scared. Physically, though, it was another story--my body was trying to tell me something.

"Bibi, I don't feel good," I whispered. "I feel like I'm going to pass out." It was bad now, the dizziness and nausea and sweats overwhelming me.

He looked at me, worried. "What? You're scaring me!" he whispered back. I couldn't take it anymore--I needed to get out of there and fast. I tugged on his arm, "Come with me."

We walked out of the class, through the rows of couples, me clamped on to JR's shoulder and arm. I wanted to go downstairs and outside but I couldn't make it. I lay down right there on the floor, at the top of the stairwell, sweating and ghost-white.

A cleaning woman gasped when she saw my limp body on the floor. "You OK?" she called. JR answered awkwardly, "Oh, um, yes, she's fine, she's...pregnant and not feeling well."

I wasn't sure if the woman understood him, as she just asked "Alcohol?" I was thinking No, woman! I'm not drunk! JR understood differently: "Um, she shouldn't have alcohol, she's pregnant...Um, thanks..."

"No...to smell," said the woman. I didn't think smelling alcohol would make me feel any better. "No thanks."

After lying down for a bit there on the floor, I felt okay enough to make it down the stairs and out into the fresh air. We stayed there a few minutes and slowly I was revived. Then we made our way back up to class. No way was I missing anything more.

We got back to class in time to watch plenty of births, complete with close-ups of the baby coming out. I giggled uncomfortably while the baby's head was out and the body still inside. Then the shoulders and rest of the body came and JR whispered, "Oh SH--!" I elbowed him. I felt fine now, staring with amazement, trying to stifle my tears at the happy parents with their strange-colored babies.

We got in the car after class. As we approached home I burst into tears. JR looked over at me. "Oh my gosh, what's WRONG?!"

"I'm scared," I answered, sobbing. And I continued to cry a while. It felt good. All I wanted was to watch some TV, eat ice cream, and go to bed early. Which is what I did.

I couldn't help one last joke before bed. JR was eating some rabit pate, and I looked at the grayish, clumpy stuff and said, "Ya know, that's exactly what the baby's skin looks like when it comes out." JR looked at me with his mouth full, slightly disgusted, then swallowed. "Great, Bibi," he said, and continued eating. Darn, I couldn't get him to throw that crap out, I thought.