E the Doula/Jordmor

This past Saturday, E and I wrapped up our 12-hour childbirth and infant care class. Don't laugh. We are so glad we took the 12 hour version. I mean, we went into this ("this" being the Bean growing project) totally ignorant, so we found the class to very informational. It was particularly good for E because I think he really knows his role now for the big day. You know. Blaze of glory. Emergence of the Bean.

Much to my enjoyment, E is feeling quite proud of himself. And confident. He keeps talking about when we "start dancing," which is what our instructor Tibbie (yes, Tibbie; that's not a blog cover name. It's her real name.) called the movement where, while I'm in blinding pain, E and I sway together (to the smooth sounds of Lionel Richie?) to keep me from locking up the Bean's exit route tighter than a supermax federal penitentiary. Because evidently, the goal is to "get me out of the way" so that my body can "do what it knows to do." Big job.

Props to Tibbie though. We couldn't have had a better instructor. God love her, she got into some serious character while illustrating various relaxations techniques, etc. (Truly, Tibbie needs an agent.) And she certainly captured E's attention. So much so that tonight he announced that he has yet another career path to consider. We were howling with laughter. He says he's prepared to take on the full-time role of doula (på norsk, jordmor) -- so long as he doesn't have to actually see anything "bloody down there." Interesting concept. Anyone need a squeamish doula for labor disco, breathing exercises and coaching (no funny stuff below the waist...)? Sorry, he's taken!

But our edumication stretches far beyond the actual birth experience. E and I learned, among many things, how to swaddle and diaper a baby. OK. So, not a baby. But we've got the very lifelike dolls down COLD. We can't wait to show the Bean how lucky he/she is.

Now, back to waiting...