Just the Basics

Last night was our newborn care class, something that we had debated over taking at all. Patrick is a doctor, after all, and I'm a med student with three younger sisters, a nephew, and lots of babysitting under my belt. What could they possibly tell us that we didn't already know? I initially started thinking about it when I learned that, though Patrick completed a rotation on OB/GYN and several on Peds, he had never actually changed a baby's diaper. Never. In his whole life. I think they should revoke his medical degree.

Then we spoke with several friends with children, all of whom are in the medical field, and they unanimously said to take the classes. They cited different reasons, but the underlying message was the same: It's different when it's you. It's not the same as when you read about it in a book as it is happening to other people and you are helping in their care. No, really, Katie. I'm serious: It's different when it's you.

Okay, I'll buy that.

So we signed up for two classes. We were too late to do the 5 week, 2 hours a week Childbirth Prep class that included the Baby Basics and a tour of the nursery, so we signed up for the "condensed" version, which is all crammed into a single Saturday, and the separate Baby Basics class. I was a little hesitant about the quality of the classes for my own experience, but was more nervous that Patrick would be terrified by the class and would run away. (Really - I was actually concerned about this.)

Luckily, the class was pretty good and Patrick was WAY into it. It was actually totally adorable and made me all gooey. The nurse who led the class was very nice and, though she wasn't the most informed person in the world, gave us lots of good information and had good references for us to peruse. We also got tons of free stuff, which is awesome. Patrick was hilarious; he asked a bunch of questions and took the swaddling lessons very seriously, even going so far as to ask the instructor to come over and check his work to make sure he'd done it correctly. His son WILL be swaddled correctly, dang it.

He and I didn't have a chance to talk about the class until much later, as we had driven separately and then I was on the phone for awhile when we got back, so I was unsure as to his true feelings about the class. But hours later, when we were getting ready for bed, he was still talking about what we had heard and what we needed to learn more about and what we still needed to do or decide, and so forth. It is a distinct possibility that my real, actual husband, who recently suggested the name Gottlieb for his unborn Turnip, may have been abducted and replaced by an alien imitating a human male in anticipation of being a father. I'm totally okay with this.