Bump Day: Me, my husband and a bunch of boobs

So I recently attended a breastfeeding class. And I brought my husband, or should I say, coach (more on that in a minute). He was very supportive- wanting all along to go, but insistent that he’d be the only spouse or partner in the room. I told him he was wrong and I was so sure of myself that I’d even bet that night’s raid of the leftover Halloween candy stash on it (yup, I still have some!).

Luckily, I didn’t have to sacrifice any of my near and dear Snickers bars, because it turns out there are many supportive spouses and partners out there. But I was in for a surprise all my own. The class was not at all what I’d expected. In my mind, we’d all be sitting in desks, diligently taking notes and sharing our secret fears of how much it was going to hurt.  I did not expect I’d be laughing as much as I did. Who knew breastfeeding could be so funny?

When we signed in, I had to write down my name and next to it, the name of my coach.

Coach? I questioned aloud. I don’t have a coach. I felt myself start to perspire. I’m not even sure who my pediatrician is yet!

The woman next to me chimed in. It was my husband or partner’s name they were asking for.

I imagined my husband standing next to me, a frazzled, sleep-deprived mess, at the 2:00 a.m. feeding obnoxiously chanting, “You can do it! I believe in you! Just stay focused!”

I turned to my husband and told him that although I would put his name in that blank, I would not, under any uncertain terms, ever be referring to him as coach.

We exchanged a laugh, but the woman who’d given me the coach definition didn’t find us amusing- my first hint that perhaps we were the only couple who was going to find the humor in all of this.

Once the class got underway, you’d have thought the teacher was auditioning for America’s Got Talent with her non-stop one-liners. And the props! I didn’t expect she’d don fake breasts to show us the way a baby should latch on. But it was probably the video that took me straight back to sex ed- that had me biting my lip so I wouldn’t laugh out loud. I couldn’t even look at my husband. But I knew at break time we’d both have the same thing to say. How ginormous were that woman’s breasts in the video? Look out Jenna Jameson….

But after the one-liners, the props, even the video, I looked around at the other couples. None were laughing or even had their lips formed as if they might curve into a smile.Was I missing something? Was it not okay to laugh, or want to laugh, at boobs?

I guess, for me, laughter and humor calm me. I’m admittedly nervous about the new words and information I’ve learned like latching and colostrum and must feed every four hours. And, although I’m someone who always “wants the 411″, that information is now dancing around in my head scaring the hell out of me! So a few laughs and immature thoughts are always going to get me through.

My favorite joke of the night was made by my husband (once we were out of earshot of our classmates). “If you ever need to practice before the baby comes, you know I’ll happily be your guinea pig.” Gotta love a man with a sense of humor!