Breathing Exercises

This morning we went to an ante-natal class. It was pretty much as I expcted it to be, complete with slightly sheepish looking men tagging along with their partners (for some reason they all seemed to be called Matt).

On previous visits the midwives have always appeared very empathetic, caring, sharing, in a slightly wet and occasionally drippy way.* Not so today. Today the physiotherapist resembled Miss Jean Brodie (or for younger readers, Professor McGonogall from Harry Potter). Very matter of fact and no nonsense.* She even took the register!

All is fine, except when being told how to cuddle your wife as if you were being told how to do long division. And what really made me giggle was when she ended an exercise by saying 'Now sigh and move on'. It seemed like a whistful memory of a lost childhood.



* This should in no way be taken as a complaint - the care we've experienced has been wonderful.

Comments

Anonymous said…
New Parish - New Baby - Congratulations
4:27 pm
Anonymous said…
Childbirth can be incredibly stressful - when Little Nutter was born, it was after a 30 hour labour during which the hospital's satellite TV system wasn't working. It was hell.

But it can be good. When Tiny Flirt was born there was internet access in the labour ward. (Got to be careful, though - I nearly missed the birth that time...)

And I got into trouble when Little Madam was born: I taught the midwife's children, and the whole thing turned into a parents' evening.
9:38 pm
charity said…
Hey - this gives me great ideas for alt worship!
2:03 am
Phil C said…
Wait a second: you're pregnant? Why didn't anyone tell me?! Oh my gosh! Well, I'm impressed. But, then, I always knew you were a special sort of man. Congratlations.
1:29 pm
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