Not that I assume that they are monsters or anything, but they have a very important role in a once in a lifetime event (you can't give birth to the same child twice) and they are selected randomly and like or loathe them you are pretty much stuck with them.
So, I was probably looking forward to the class more for the midwife than for the breastfeeding.
Skipping past the part where we turned up on a freezing cold and wet evening to find ourselves locked out of the hospital, we all eventually made our way into the usual room for the classes.
Looking around the classroom, there was a distinct lack of men. One couple were absent and then two partners were absent. James was kicking himself for not having managed to worm himself out of it suddenly fearing he was going to have a rubber breast strapped to himself, but I assure him that it was very important for him to be there so that he can be supportive and constructive when me and the baby are bawling in unison at 3am because breastfeeding is just not working and we don't know why.
The midwife was nice. Was she my kind of person? I'm not sure, probably not really. Could I live with her being the midwife on duty when I'm in labour? Yes... Maybe.
She spoke very sweetly, you know that voice you put on when you are trying to coax someone and you sound a bit like a baby? Well that one. She used that as her default voice but every so often she'd forget herself and the contrast between her cutesy voice and smile and her concentrating voice and expression was pretty stark. It made her a bit Jekyll and Hyde and I'm not sure I like that inconsistency, not knowing which you're going to get.
As for the breastfeeding stuff, admittedly I felt that I pretty much had it sorted already and knew the general idea and it would just work itself out eventually if I kept at it. WRONG!
I feel a million times better about having gone to the class. In fact it really opened my eyes about the how's and whys and I can spot all the people who should have gone to a class just like this and didn't! Their breastfeeding stresses and woes that actually worried me sometimes seem a bit "duh" now.
We looked at the baby's stomach size, that was actually represented by a marble for the first few days. Not a giant marble, but the standard size ones... Tiny!
We talked about the consistancy and colour of the milk and how to position the baby.
The most important thing was the latch of course and to demonstrate she pulled out a knitted boob and a hand puppet lol
She was basically saying that if your nipples hurt or sting that your latch is wrong to some degree and creams shouldn't ever be necessary if you're doing it right. A dab of breastmilk will sufficiently moisturise.
There was lots of other breastfeeding stuff covered too and she even assured me that my own plans for breastfeeding, which have been complicated by James wanting to do night feeds asap and also by us wanting to try for a sibling asap, were perfectly doable.
I did manage to get some information out of her about the hospital that I found reassuring. Just things like immediate skin to skin is now standard and they've moved away from medical labours.
At the end she gave us some literature to read and also explained how she isn't actually employed by the hospital but by some independant regulatory body that acts as a go between for mum and medical staff, so basically if I have any disagreements about what the medical professionals are trying to decide for me I can just phone them up and they will act as an intermediate to either argue my side to the hospital or explain the whys to me.
I didn't know such a thing existed so I'm very happy to have the 24/7 number.
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