Thai people don't really eat that

Friday I went to my first LaMaze class. I haven't really been apprehensive about the whole labor thing, until I started to realize that Noah is due next month. Wow, that's close. And I have been studiously avoiding watching any tv birth documentaries or reading about all of the gross, painful details so that I don't get freaked out and panic. But LaMaze class seems to take the stance that if they scare you a whole lot by telling you everything that could go wrong, and making you watch videos (those will start next week), that then when you're actually in labor you'll be happy about every little thing that goes right.

There were about 13 or 14 couples, a big class. I was definitely the only person there without a husband/fiancee/boyfriend. I went with my mother. Everyone looked at me piteously. They probably all think I'm about 17 to boot. There were maybe two guys in the whole room who looked even remotely interested in being there. Most of the others had glazed over looks, or stared at the walls and tried not to listen to the bits about painful contractions, blood, and water breakage. It didn't help that the instructor kept likening the smell and texture of things to chicken. The man sitting next to me declared he may never be able to eat chicken again. An older guy, who looked to be in his early 40's, sitting across the room from me kept staring at me the whole class. It was creepy. I also thought it was interesting that of all the couples, only one had opted not to find out the sex of the baby. And of the 14 women, only 3 or 4 were having girls.

I sort of wish I hadn't gone, because now I have a nightmare every night that I'm going into labor. It makes for fitful sleeping.

For the last half hour of the class we worked on relaxation techniques. This involved laying on a yoga map in the dark listening to a cd of wind pipes. Then your partner was supposed to give you a back rub. All around us I could hear people whispering 'no, not like that,' 'you're doing it wrong,' 'No, you're just pinching, haven't you given a massage before?' ' Just don't touch me there.'

I was baffled by the concept, and the apparent commonality, that these people were married, they were having a baby together, and they'd never given each other a back rub before. Whatever else one can say about my past relationships, at least they were all the kind where we were close enough and comfortable enough, and thoughtful enough, to actually touch each other. I don't get it. Where are these people meeting? How are they dating? How are they getting married? Do they really even know each other at all?

But mainly I just felt shitty that my boyfriend wasn't there. The whole time I kept thinking about what he would think about everything we were learning, about how it would be a good male bonding experience for him, about how he ought to be there giving me relaxation massages instead of my mother, about how much less embarassing it would be, about how he ought to be there in the delivery room with me holding my hand. It put me within an inch of calling him and telling him we could get back together (this the guy who wouldn't even look at the ultra sound screen, who strongly encouraged me to get an abortion so I wouldn't be ruining our lives, who left me at 4 months pregnant and wants me to give the baby up for adoption, but is graciously willing to possibly marry me if I don't), to tell him we can get back together and give it a try, if only he'll go to LaMaze class with me.

My other favorite part of the class was the meet and greet. We had to go around and meet another expectant mother and find out various things about her in order to introduce her to the rest of the class. We were supposed to mention one thing we had in common and one thing that was different about us. The young woman next me perked up at this part while she was introducing another couple from across the room. "One of the things we have in common is neither if us have picked out a name yet, and the thing that's different about us is that she's married and we're not." She squeezed her boyfriend's hand as she said it. He looked kind of livid. Way to apply the peer pressure.

Before the class my mom and I went out to a thai resturant for dinner. I asked the waitress what was better, the massaman curry or the peanut sauce noodle dish. She tried to describe each to me, which was pointless because I knew what each one was, I just couldn't decide. So I asked her which one she preferred. She stalled for a minute, then said, "well, the peanut sauce, Thai people don't really eat that. Not for main course. So I prefer the curry. " Then she added perkily

"But Americans really seem to like the peanut sauce." I went for the curry.