-Hee Hee Hoo
-Out of the Mouths of Babes
Hee Hee Hoo
Last week Brian and I began to take part in that ceremonial rite known as Lamaze Class.
Here are some stats for you:
Number of pregnant women in the class: 9
Number of married pregnant women in the class: 3
Number of couples older than Brian and me (28 and 25): 1
Number of pregnant women who are 15 years old: 2
Age of the mother of one of those pregnant 15 year olds, who is also her Lamaze partner: 39
Call me old fashioned, but these stats make me very sad.
During a break in the class, we were given a packet with a Lamaze magazine, some coupons, and some samples. While waiting for class to resume, I read the magazine. These people are serious about birthin' those babies, and birthin' em natural like, too. Now, I have no problem with natural childbirth. I dare say I'd like to give it a go myself, but heck, I've never done this before, what the crap do I know? I won't be surprised if one contraction hits me like a ton of bricks and I'm begging for death.
Anyway, back to the magazine. The article I was reading was about taking charge of your birthing experience and not letting anyone push you into making decisions or getting medication you're not comfortable with.
After all, the magazine said, "Childbirth is an experience that is not to be missed."
Well, I'll be sure and mark my calendar then. I sure wouldn't want to be absent for the birth of my child.
Thank you, Lamaze magazine. Your genius astounds me.
Out of the Mouths of Babes
Those durned primary kids sure do come up with some doozies. Last night as I lay in bed, desperately (and I do mean desperately) trying to fall asleep, I compiled a mental list of all the gnarly things those little people have said or done over the course of my pregnancy.
Unfortunately, doing this did not have the soporific effect I was hoping for. Instead, I began giggling, and had to put my head under a pillow so I wouldn't wake Brian.
One Sunday, obscenely early in the pregnancy, one of the kids came up to me as I was standing in a circle of chatting adults. "Are you pregnant?" he asked, all innocence and big brown eyes. Well, that adult conversation ended very quickly, I can assure you. And heck, I couldn't lie to the little tyke. With his suspicions confirmed, he ran through the halls, running up to any adult that would pay attention to him, "Sister Roberts is having a BABY! Sister Roberts is having a BABY!" Finally, he reached my poor, unsuspecting husband. "Brother Roberts, did you know your wife is pregnant?!"
Another day, another child. Months later, I was passing out papers to the primary kids. A mother was in with her little girl that day and as I got close to them the mother said, "Hailee wants to know if you're only halfway pregnant because you don't look all the way pregnant yet." Hailee, apparently, was too shy to ask me herself.
When my grandmother passed away in August I went to Utah and spent the month there. I came back looking noticeably more pregnant. Upon my return, I was in the primary getting ready to teach Sharing Time. A hand was raised. "Did you go away to have your baby in Utah?"
Yesterday after church, I was talking with a parent as her little girl, McKenna, hovered close by. She was staring intently at my bulging belly during the conversation and finally, not being able to resist the urge any longer, she reached out and patted it. "Is there a little baby in there?", she asked. I told her that yes, there was. Then she leaned in a little closer, got a very stern look in her eye and asked, "Did you marry someone?" I had to try not to laugh, but I told her yes, I did. Then, with that same stern look on her little face, she said, "That's good. I was just making sure."
In closing, because of my propensity to sit around and take the most unflattering pictures of myself possible, here is one that will really make you feel good about yourself.