I think Anthony's decided he's anti- antenatal classes. He went to his first one last night and didn't sleep very well afterwards.
It probably didn't help that last night was the night for watching 'that' DVD. Apart from the graphic imagery of the type one would normally associate with an adult content movie, it completely shattered his image of labour as being me restrained in a bed while he held my hand and patted my head till a baby popped out. The idea that I would be allowed to roam free and might indiscrimatinantly lean on him and make strange grunting noises at any given moment was an alarming one indeed.
I was more disturbed by the pelvises and dolls being passed around and the obvious impossibility of one being able to pass through the other without some serious rearranging of physics.
The woman sitting next to me lived on a farm, was an old hand at lambing, and treated the whole childbirth thing like it was a perfectly normal natural process that any old woman of child-bearing age could survive.
We're talking drugs next week - I'll be taking notes.
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