The class itself might have been helpful, if it had been planned out, organized, and if they actually gave us more than one 10 minute break. Four hours is a looooooong time for pregnant women to sit in uncomfortable chairs.
I had a hard time after an hour, and started squirming in my chair like someone had dropped a feral cat down my pants. After 60 minutes, I was in serious discomfort...however, it was excruciating after 90 minutes. Most of the women began wandering aimlessly in and out the door after a while, looking for food, water, and the bathroom. It was sad and not unlike a zombie movie...except with third trimester bellies.
The instructor was, for lack of a better word, frustrating. I want to say she was terrible, but honestly, she was just incompetent to teach. There was no sort of organization, no lesson plan passed out. Posters were strewn about the floor and on the table in no decipherable order. There was nothing handed out, nothing explained about what we were about to discuss in 4 hours. She admitted to not being organized that morning, and every time she finished explaining something to us in a long, drawn out rambling discussion, she would finish off with, "Ok, and what else...hmm..." It was very disconcerting and did not make me feel confident in the hospital where I would be giving birth. I thought more than a few times, "I wonder if CPMC will let me give birth there? I wonder how much that would be?"
Questions were taken randomly and at any time during the lecture, so the hours dragged on and on. A few women overtook the instructor more than a dozen times, asking redundant and sometimes ridiculous questions that were better answered by their personal physicians. The instructor, having no control over the class, tried answering the questions as they came, which prolonged everything beyond the time alloted. It was horrible to sit and wait quietly, just to see someone's hand go up again. I came close to freaking out and screaming, "STOP RAISING YOUR HAND SO WE CAN GET THE #@+$&# OUT OF THIS CLASS!!"
But did I leave? NO. I had to see the tour. That was my goal...I thought, "I can do this. I can last until the tour of the maternity ward. I MUST SEE THE LABOR ROOM."
We were scheduled to see the room. Instead, we talked. And talked. And listened and talked. We breathed a few times. Then, we watched THE OTHER CLASS go to the labor room in our stead, since we were STILL #$%$ TALKING AND BREATHING. Mind you, this was 3 hours in to the class.
Finally, by the grace of God, we went on our tour. Thinking it was going to be informative, structured, and exciting, I smiled and skipped down the halls, looking at all the scary equipment with a grin and a giggle. YAYYYY FOR LABOR ROOMS!
Then, our instructor introduced us to the older, grey-haired security guard and told the following anecdotal story: "We had a kidnapping exercise at the hospital and THIS woman stopped the man from taking the baby onto the elevator. She just wouldn't let him on! Even though she was reprimanded for doing so, since employees are not to let themselves get hurt during emergencies...you should feel safe knowing this woman, (if she's on duty,) will not let your baby leave the premises!"
There was nervous laughter, and then we continued. I just stood, stunned, thinking, "AND HOW DID THE DUDE GET THAT FAR?! OUT OF THE NURSERY AND TO THE ELEVATOR?!"
I cried when we got home, thinking, I do NOT want to have my baby at a place where the only thing keeping someone from kidnapping my newborn is a 60+ security guard.
Just the thought of going through another 4 hours next week gives me the shakes. I was perfectly fine with the thought of laboring this baby out of my uterus until this class...and now, the anxiety has settled into my bones. Let's hope it doesn't last for the rest this pregnancy. Ugh.
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