Shaver's Razor

Adventures in Lactation Class

Many of you readers know that my wife and I are expecting a baby boy to arrive in about 4 weeks…or, as a friend of mine recently said to me, “You’re EMINENTLY pregnant!”

This is our first child so I’m new to the parenthood experience. But I am fully on board with the Baby Train Express! In the past few months I have vigorously test-driven strollers at Babies-R-Us, attended doctors appointments with the mother-to-be, and read at least 3 different volumes on the subjects of labor & delivery, baby nutrition and digestion, discipline, new-born sleep schedules, new parent sleep schedules (that was a short read…hmm), …etc.

In short, I’m ALL IN!

However, this past week, Elaina and I did attend a class provided by our hospital on the subject of Lactation and Breastfeeding. Now, I ain’t scared. As a man, I didn’t have any problems being willing to attend this class with my wife. Once again, I’m ALL IN! But, during this class I discovered that I may have willingly wandered into territory that I was not prepared for.

Yes, I know that lactation and breastfeeding is all about mothers, babies, and…breasts. No shock there. I am an adult. Or, at least, I thought I was.

The class was in a comfortable  room with a bowl full of cereal bars and chips for snacks and about 6 or 7 other couples attending. As my wife and I found our seats and began to get comfortable, it happened.

Friends, before the sweet little 40 something lactation consultant could even begin her lecture, I snickered at lactation terms defined on the white board, gawked at visual aids, and wrote my own commentary out beside the pictures on the step-by-step pamphlet given to us at the door.

I couldn’t help it. Now, don’t get me wrong. I listened and took notes. I’m a concerned husband who has a desire to be well informed with all processes and techniques involving our baby’s nutrition and growth. But I had to literally bit my tongue when the lactation consultant held up the stuffed-plush boob in her hands as a visual aid and kept pinching the nipple REPEATEDLY to describe how the baby should NOT latch on to the mother’s breast. How can I not laugh at that?!?!

I won’t even discuss the video we watched.

Then there was the moment where the consultant was addressing a delicate matter involving first time mothers who may worry that their body is just not shaped right for their baby to latch on and feed properly. A delicate matter and a very serious concern for many women. So, she tells the classroom not to worry. She tells us that there is not a “perfect” shape and, “generally, when your baby is born, they’ve not ever seen another nipple…yours is the first.” To which I blurt out, “Generally?” in front of the whole class. This sends everybody into doubled-over laughter while the consultant tries to recover her natural skin-tone which has just grown 3 shades more red.

Elaina and I made it through the class. She is still married to me. And, we learned some helpful information.

But, I would recommend for any upcoming fathers-to-be: if you’re going to attend the lactation class …leave your 10-year-old-boy sense of humor at the door. It may get you into trouble.