The finish line has been crossed, and our cover is intact, thank you very much. In the closest call to date, Mr. Perineum started asking about the wife’s job. Is it fairly active, or is it more sedentary? “Well, it is usually pretty active, but they’ve been gracious and given her more desk work lately, plus really short shifts.” Then, I used a Jedi mind trick to distract him so that he wouldn’t ask the next obvious question: what is it that she does? Victory!!
Our final class meeting was with the morning class, along with several alumni and their little babies, who told their birth stories. Well, it was mostly the parents who talked, rather than the kiddies. Two C-sections, and two totally natural births. And plenty of doctor-bashing. Did you know that doctors are people? Unacceptable!
The meeting took place at our teacher’s workplace, in a swanky, high-tech conference room of a software developer in Rosslyn. It was a very long room with lots of posh chairs and a conference table only slightly smaller than Alan Greenspan’s. Plus a killer video setup and surround sound. All of which came in handy for the night’s special feature of an exciting cutting-edge video genre: Homemade Birth Film.
Which might have been titled, “Fifty Ways to Scream Your Lungs Out”. The cringey closeups, the blood-curdling, high-pitched wails, the gallons of fluid gushing out, the bulging eyeballs, were all there on the ten-foot screen. Harrowing, if I do say so. First, I felt faint, then I nearly threw up, and then I just cried at the sight of the baby.
The size and scale and sheer volume was a force to be reckoned with. Giant eight-foot labia!! Firm digital pressure on the perineum!! Irritating commentary from grandma!! The screams were so loud and long that our poor children started a little riot in utero, and I had to muffle the sound and talk them through it. Even the wife, who’s seen a vagina or two (thousand) was a little taken aback. Which is to say, she was leaning way, way back in her chair.
But in the end, full of excellent food from an old favorite Chinese restaurant and lots of hopeful goodbyes, I got all nostalgic and sappy. Time to pack the bags (and remember to bring lots of towels)!