He's Pregnant (March 8 edition)

The nursery is almost complete. Just an evening of painting and some pictures on the wall, and this girl will have a cute little pad. I like to think I’m a fairly cool, masculine guy but I can’t help but get a little choked up when I look at the closet full of tiny dresses and pink shirts. It’s still hard to imagine someone will be wearing those soon. But if this baby comes out a boy, we are going to have some major returning to do.
With the final weeks of pregnancy upon us, there is only one big event left to experience before the birth: prenatal class. Everything I had seen depicted in movies and television was fairly accurate, and it wasn’t quite as awkward as I expected.
We sat in a circle as one couple after another shared their names and due dates. It felt more like AA than a course on childbirth, but as I looked around the room I thought to myself; “These are the men with whom I’ll pace the maternity ward hallways. These are the guys that will share with me confusion and anxiety as we watch our wives suffer through unimaginable pain. We’ll sit in the waiting room and share old war stories as we become delusional from sleep deprivation and nausea. I’m not alone.”
Okay, I may have been taking it too far, but I realized there are some men out there who can relate to what I’m going through and what I’m expecting.
After the instructor gave a nice little overview of the labour process, I was feeling pretty good. Normally I get quite queasy, but I toughed it out and it was actually quite educational. “I think I can handle that,” I thought. “No doubt my wife can.”
Just as I was gaining some confidence in my ability to withstand the physical and less appealing aspects of childbirth, the nurse dropped an anvil that shattered my spirits.
“After the break we’ll watch a video,” she said.
A video in prenatal class can only mean on thing; I have to witness a human giving birth. Flashbacks of grade-five sex ed. raced through my mind. I passed out then, what if I do it now? I’ll look so pathetic in front of all these people if I can’t even watch what I’m here to learn about. I know childbirth is a beautiful thing, and the aftermath will be great, but I just can’t watch a mammal birthing its offspring.
I acted calm and cool as my wife looked at me as if to say, “are you going to be alright?”
Well the truth is, no. But I don’t have much choice. As the video started I found myself thinking more about how annoying and strange the labouring couple was rather than what was to come. And when the camera finally did pan down for the final push, it wasn’t as bad as I expected. It’s not something I need to see again (from anyone other than my wife), but I was still conscious.
With three weeks of classes still to go, I’m sure I’ll be an expert by the time April rolls around; which reminds me, there’s only six weeks left to go.