too much junk in the trunks

I'm a day overdue for belly shots. I know this. I had every intention of taking them last night, before Brad and I left for the Superdiamond show, but the cab arrived sooner than we expected. I'll take them one morning this week. Promise.

Speaking of the Superdiamond show . . . it appears I am no longer awesome at standing for long periods of time. This is the third time I've seen Superdiamond in the last year. They are a Neil Diamond cover band and it is practically impossible not to dance and sing and laugh hysterically at their shows. Last night they were at the House of Blues, and I went with my Superdiamond crew: Allison, Heidi, and Jennifer (plus Brad and Greg for good measure). Before the show, we had a large, fantastic dinner at Gilt Bar. (If you live in Chicago, you need to eat there. The brussels sprouts were heavenly. Yes, you heard me right. And if you are thinking that's just pregnancy taste buds talking, ask Brad. He agreed.) When we arrived at House of Blues, we quickly figured out that I wouldn't be able to sit on a proper chair. So we gathered in a spot beside a rail so that I could lean on something. I alternated between standing and squatting (to catch my breath), and made it through the opening act (per Brad, the best Eagle Eye Cherry cover band he'd ever heard). But Superdiamond was in no rush to take the stage, and by 11pm, I was out of energy. I did hear the first three songs. Silver lining: there was no line at the coat check or taxi stand when we exited. So there's that. Thankfully, the next show on the calendar is the Jayhawks at the Vic, which has plenty of open seating in the upper balcony. I heart the Vic. Too bad Superdiamond and the Vic would not mix.

The other good thing about bailing before midnight was we had to get up early this morning for the Great Expectations class at Prentice. G.E. is an eight-hour class for expecting couples planning to deliver at Prentice. They review the phases of labor (in graphic detail), relaxation and pain management techniques, and the postpartum experience. The entire day was eye-opening and worthwhile. Here are a few highlights:

(1) We were not the only ones there, though the Bears/Packers game definitely impacted attendance. Only five couples showed up. The instructor took a vote to see if we all wanted to work through lunch so that the class would end before the game. Brad and I weren't all that interested in watching the game, but we wanted to be team players.

(2) During introductions, the instructor asked us to share what we were dreading the most and looking forward to the most about labor or parenthood. Most people said they were excited to be parents and afraid of labor. I said that I was excited to take a long maternity leave and afraid of the first couple nights at home. Then it was Brad's turn. He said he was most afraid I would hit him during delivery. I was a little horrified, wondering if other people in the room were now assuming that I was an abusive spouse. Thankfully, the next guy said he was also really afraid of being hit. I like that guy.

(3) Most of my assumptions about the labor and delivery process were COMPLETELY WRONG. I am familiar with the term cervix dilation, but it never occurred to me that this meant the baby had to bust through the door to the uterus and THEN bust through door to the vagina. Yes, yes. Logic suggests this would be necessary. But I always assumed when folks talked about being a certain number of centimeters dilated, they were talking about the vaginal opening. Did they teach us this in anatomy? Wait. I don't think I've even taken anatomy. Biology class? If they did, I don't remember it. Perhaps I spent too much time protesting the frog dissection. Regardless, I learned A LOT today.

(4) Our instructor was fabulous (reminded me of my dear friend Lesley who moved to D.C. last year). But despite her wealth of knowledge, Brad stumped her on a question. He wanted to know the historical origin of cutting the umbilical cord. He had a hard time imagining early woman giving birth in a cave and thinking it was a good idea to take a sharp implement to something stuck to the baby. He now thinks that these women probably toted around the placenta until the cord fell off. He's sticking with that theory unless someone tells him otherwise.

(5) Women recovering from labor are supposed to put a lot of stuff in their underwear. At the end of the class, the instructor pulled out a bag filled with items that the hospital gives to new mothers. This includes a bunch of disposable underwear, maxipads on steroids, and long/narrow (but NOT thin) ice packs. One is supposed to affix the super-size maxipad to the underwear and place the ice pack on top of the maxipad before putting on the underwear. That is entirely too much stuff to put in one's underwear. Egad. It was the only moment all day that I was terrified of what's to come in the weeks ahead. Anything that requires me to fill up my underwear with that much junk cannot be pleasant.

(6) The labor and delivery rooms at Prentice are HUGE and fabulous. 400 square feet, hardword floors, huge windows. They have 42" flatscreen TVs and Bose sound systems (and blow dryers, because women do the strangest things between contractions, apparently). We need to provide our own CDs though. Brad says I get to be in charge of the music, but only while I'm in labor. Think the Neil Diamond catalog can get us through twelve hours or so? Here's hoping.