10/10

I imagine that many of the coming entries will deal with the pregnancy. Since I shivered through our arctic bedroom (comfortable temperature is one of the casualties of a pregnant summer in New York) for most of the night, I had plenty of time to think of blog fodder.

Mrs. E and I spent the weekend on the east side taking a childbirth class at NYU. The course, for which we received a Print Shop-like certificate, was surprisingly excellent. I say surprising because I expected to be either completely bored or equally overwhelmed by a two-day, 12-hour class. However, our instructor Michele was quite adept at explaining the details of late-term pregnancy, labor & delivery, and immediate post-partem child care. We laughed, we cried. It was like watching any of the past several state-of-the-union addresses.

The seven couples with whom we shared the course fit some stereotypical pregnant couple archetypes. There was the older, Italian couple who brought either the husband's or wife's mother. I'm guessing it was the wife's mother because while dad slept through half the course, the old lady served as coach for the breathing exercises.

Couple number two was hardly noteworthy, except the husband spoke with an accent and though his name is Peter it was pronounced PEH-ter. My guess, based on his complexion, is that he hails from somewhere in northern Europe. What I actually said to Mrs. E is, "I'll bet he's one of those Norwegian punks!" For the record, I think I would actually like Norway. I mean, I like people from Minnesota.

We couldn't get a good read on the third couple. The husband, whom I dub "Lacoste Boy" since he wore three different solid colored Lacoste shirts over the course of two days, asked the most random questions. For example, "Now, is the drug they offer during the aforementioned stage biological or chemical?" I'm not sure if he works for an anti-terrorist government outfit or simply opposes man-made aids. As engaged as he was in the class, his wife was the only pregnant person who didn't ask a single question over the course of the two days. In fact, I estimate that every woman asked at least half a dozen questions. She didn't open her mouth. Lacoste Boy passed out yesterday during the discussion of C-Sections. It was approximately around the time when Michele mentioned placenta previa which would necessitate an immediate C-section. After a series of epileptic convulsions he finally came to in about five minutes. Incidentally, Lacoste Boy also sported Burberry socks. No, I'm serious.

There was an older couple who clearly had read way too much. Let me clarify. When I say older I mean they were in their late 30's or early 40's, which for a first child is on the older side. I recognize that people are having children later in life, but they were the oldest couple in the class. So if you are apt to be offended by my description then just use older as a relative term. At any rate, the husband spent a bit of time yesterday trying to convince everyone of the virtues of saving the baby's cord blood. Mrs. E and I had already looked into this and consulted our physician. I feel sorry for the others because I'm pretty convinced he or a member of his family works for Viacord. The wife was adamantly opposed to an episiotomy and seems to have used this as the sole factor in weeding out potential doctors.

We were particularly fond of the half-white, half-asian couple who seem like they're having a great time being pregnant. They, like us, don't take themselves too seriously. They asked important questions, but aren't stressing out more than is healthy.

There isn't much to say about the remaining couple other than the wife is due a day before Mrs. E and is half the size.

The breathing exercises were hilarious. I didn't mean to laugh, but I had to chuckle a little. I couldn't help but think of The Cosby Show episode where John Ritter (far and away my favorite childhood actor)and Amy Yasbeck guest starred as expecting parents. Ritter, of course, employed the same physical comedy that made him a star on Three's Company.

Toward the end of the day we learned about the apgar score. The baby is measured at one minute and five minutes after his or her birth and is assigned a score of 0-2 on each of five criteria (color and responsiveness, are two examples) for a maximum of ten points. Healthy babies have a score of at least seven. Like my hole cards in my last hand of Texas hold'em online, my future Heisman-winning quarterback will secure a pair of tens!