An urgent update because Cait is desperate to know

No, it’s not a scheduling conflict. We were advised by the director of the center where we planned to take it not to come.

I guess we didn’t really say a whole lot here about how frustrating we found our childbirth class to be. That’s kind of funny, considering how short-story-long I tend to be, but it would have been nothing but kvetching, and it would have been a lot of kvetching. A whole lot. That aside, we didn’t really like it, nor did we get much out of it.

Here is where I toot my own horn.

We’re generally very well-versed in scientific matters, specifically those around childbirth, and we have the means to learn the things we’re interested in. When I want to know about outcomes of specific interventions, I look them up in the current research—as does Brooke. When I wanted to know about over-medicalized childbirth, I read The Thinking Woman’s Guide to a Better Birth—as did Brooke. It would be an understatement (toot toot) to say that Brooke and I went into the childbirth class with a wide body of knowledge about childbirth and medicine.

We were reminded of this fact as we took the class. As it turns out, this was the first time the instructor had done an entire 6-class session, a fact which was painfully obvious as the course went on. She rambled. She told stories. She went off on tangents. She was asked direct questions and failed to answer them. She supplied inaccurate information (e.g., group beta strep is what causes strep throat, Pitocin is made from the urine of pregnant horses) and was chafed when corrected. She was clearly not up to date on her research and seemed to think that Mothering magazine is as good as a peer-reviewed journal. Don’t get me wrong—Mothering often contains valuable information and tells a side of the parenting story that isn’t heard in mainstream parenting magazines. All biases about the magazine aside (it’s essentialist, ignores lesbian moms, and demands that there’s a right way to do things, and any less is tantamount to child abuse), it’s not a peer-reviewed journal and does not hold itself up to the standards of one.

And she really didn’t deal with the lesbian thing. She started out pretending to, and by the end of the course, she had just plain given up. She talked about dads and fathers most of the time, only occasionally throwing in the word “partner” with a pointed look or gesture at Brooke. Brooke was one of three participants in the “dads” class held one night while the birthing moms were doing pseudo-yoga, yet it was still called a “dads” class by the instructor for the remainder of the session. There was a lot of essentialist bullshit flung about, including the statement that the kind of energy required to get the baby in was the same kind of energy required to get the baby out.

I think you know where I stand on that idea, but let me add this: not all pregnancies, including those carried to term and raised in loving households by (perhaps among others) the birthing mother, were created intentionally or under pleasing circumstances. A woman who conceived the child she intends to raise under coercive or even forced sexual circumstances probably doesn’t want to relive that in her birth experience. Whether the conception occurred medically, forcibly, or with wine and chocolate, the person doing the birthing must be given the right to decide how the baby comes out.

The director asked me to tell her how to deal with inclusive language. I said that partner and parent were great for me. She asked about using the phrase “partner or father” and seemed annoyed that I contradicted a fellow lesbian who suggested it. The phrase “partner or father” implies both that partners are not parents (or parents-to-be) and that fathers are not partners. I guess I need to get back in touch with the other lesbians in the national database and come to a compromise on the matter.

The phone conversation I had with the director consisted of her implying I was running all over town talking smack about the center*, when in reality I was simply discussing my childbirth class with my pregnancy medical care provider; my telling her how we felt about the way the instructor handled the lesbian issue; my telling her about the errors of fact and unpreparedness of the instructor; and her telling me that, despite the fact that I was willing to attend the class this Saturday, Brooke and I should not attend and that our presence would make the instructor “self-conscious.”

So there you have it. More coming soon, I’m sure. We intend to discuss the matter more thoroughly with our beloved CNM as well as with one another. Brooke’s perspective will be coming within the next several days, but please be patient, as she worked 13.5 hours on Monday and 12 hours yesterday and is scheduled to do overtime this week.

---

* Sure, now I am, but not until after she kicked me out of the class.