𝕥𝕠𝕠 𝕝𝕒𝕥𝕖 • 𝕞.𝕔

chapter 28

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"Ugh," I grumbled, pulling the blanket over my face. Michael didn't budge. He was still fast asleep next to me, soft snores escaping from his mouth. What a cutie he was.

    I didn't know what time it was quite yet; probably about seven o'clock, judging by the light that was in the bedroom, peeking through the curtains. I didn't want to wake up quite yet; no, I wanted to sleep until I was better, and not exhausted anymore. Being pregnant was nice some times, but others, it was awful. I generally felt tired, drained; and I didn't know how to properly deal with it.

  I wanted to shake Michael gently to let him know that we had to get ready, that our first birthing class started in an hour, but I was too unmotivated to get ready.

But Doctor Stone had told me that I had to go, and that it'd be better if Michael was here with me, so I had obviously followed his advice. And promised we would go. But there we were, Monday morning, unmotivated, cranky and moody.

"Michael," I elbowed him softly. "Babe, wake up. We have to get ready for the birthing class."

"No," he just mumbled, not moving one bit.

"Michael Clifford," I repeated slowly. "I'll get up, you get up whenever you want, but I don't want you to hear complaining that you didn't have time to get ready."

   He didn't reply and held onto his pillow tighter and I smiled to myself. He was so strangely endearing. He was such a baby still, and I loved being with him.

The sight of him half-asleep made me so happy. He looked so pure and fragile, his hair all messy peeking out of the white blankets. I walked away from the bedroom and ate breakfast slowly, feeling as if I was to collapse at any moment. I kept on yawning, hating being awake this early. But this was for a good cause, I guessed

•••

"I think it's this building," I said, pointing at it. Michael was holding my hand, following me close. He was grumpy this morning; I knew he disliked being up this early, but damn it, the boy had gotten really angry.

   When we both entered the room, already a few couples were here. They all stared at us; we were obviously the youngest to be here, and it sort of made me feel uncomfortable. I held Michael's hand a bit tighter, and he probably knew how I was feeling, so he spoke up.

"Are we in the birthing class? Are we late?"

"No, no," a feminine voice answered. And these she was; the teacher. She was very short, skinny, and she was wearing those bright yoga clothes, for some reason. She looked ecstatic, or at least, she faked extreme happiness. Maybe it was her way of making people feeling better. Her hair was tied up in a high ponytail, and her voice was incredibly high. "Hello, I am Britta Desmond! You are?"

"Michael," my boyfriend said. "And, uh, Lee."

"Welcome, welcome! Put your clothes aside, I mean, just your outerwear, no one wants to see you in underwear! Or maybe I do?" she laughed loudly, and I could see that pretty much every adult in the room was slightly uncomfortable. "Put your jackets away, let's start relaxing real quick, real nice. Ooookay, here we go."

   We both removed our jackets and put them in a corner of the room, and followed her further away in the room. At some point, the floor became softer, a bit like a tatami. We sat on the ground, and Michael grabbed one huge balloon to rest his back on.

The room wasn't that big; there was this huge TV above us, and the walls were pastel-coloured. Cliché. The only bright thing in this room must've been the colour of the teacher's outfit. It almost did hurt my eyes.

"Okay, alright everybody," she squeaked. "Now, we're going to first ask a few questions about pregnancy and you're going to share with me your sorrows of giving birth, if there are some! Who wants to start?"

   Nobody raised their hand, and she stood there awkwardly, hands on her hips. I sort of hated my doctor for sending me here, now.

"Alright, well, since no one seems to be asking questions-"

"I have a question," I raised my hand up, coughing awkwardly. Michael looked at me, probably shocked that I had spoken up first. "If it's my first pregnancy, on a scale from one to ten, how much does giving birth hurt?"

She shook her head. "My dear, you have the time to figure it out. Okay, everyone!"

   I looked at a girl across the room questioningly, and she just chuckled, shrugging. I noticed the teacher turning on the TV, and no one said anything.

"Okay, guys, now we are going to watch a film, very interesting," she clapped in her hands, as if to get everyone's attention. As if she didn't have it yet. "A short film about what's happening when you're giving birth. First of all, vaginal birth, then straight after, C-section. Here we go!"

   As the movie started, I noticed how weird the atmosphere had gotten. God, this was horrible. The teacher turned the lights off, and the minute the first image appeared, I instantly started feeling slightly sick at the sight of it all.

People didn't seem too affected by it, unlike me. And Michael. When I turned around to look at him, he seemed as horrified as me, and more. I couldn't look at it for too long, the sight of blood made me want to vomit, so I just turned around for a minute waiting for it to pass.

   After this traumatic, awful video, the teacher then indicated us we were going to do breathing and relaxing exercises with the help of our partners. Every couple started doing theirs, while Michael and I just looked at each other awkwardly, wondering what to do.

"I'm not sure I want to do it, this is all very strange-" he started saying, before Britta came and clapped in her hands energetically.

"Guys, let's get started! Okay, Michael, can I call you Mikey?"

"Uh, yeah," he nodded, visibly surprised.

"Mikey, you're going to just sit there, and Lee, I'm going to need you to lie on him, just..." she pulled me slightly to him, so I was in between his legs. "Take support on his chest, and lie there, and breathe in. Breathe out."

   I was feeling terribly awkward and strange, so I followed her instructions, but I could feel Michael being tense behind me, not knowing where to place his hands, and asking her silly questions. After a while, she finally let us alone, and Michael leaned in to my ear.

"I fucking hate our doctor for sending us here, she's a psycho."

"I know, I know," I nodded, trying to be discreet. "It's almost over."

   After a while (about twenty minutes of forcing ourselves to do breathing exercises), it was almost over, and it was the moment to say goodbye to each other. I waved awkwardly to other, much older people and Michael did the same, visibly uneasy as well.

"See you all next week, or maybe never for some of you guys!" Britta almost shouted. Her voice was hurting my ears. "I'll be with you, and remember; breathe!"

   When we got out of the room, back to the cold days of almost October, Michael was holding my hand. We both got in the car and he instantly starting laughing. I smiled.

"What's so funny?" I asked. "Mike?"

"Her," he kept on laughing. "Ah, that was great, Lee."

"Somewhat," I said, not sure if he was being serious or not.

"Okay, do you want to go back sometime?"

"No," I admitted. "God, no."

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