Prenatal Classes

So I just signed up for classes at my hospital that range from basics in childcare to breastfeeding. I have a feeling these are going to be exceedingly lame, but I know I will learn something so the husband and I will be spending 2 hours every Thursday starting in August (and running through most of September) learning about all the nitty gritty details of caring for the small one (or at least attempting to).

In the meanwhile, I’ve been attending some of the prenatal exercise classes at my local gym, and I’ve got to say I’m a fan. The prenatal yoga is more like physical therapy for pregnant ladies – everyone goes around the room, says how far along they are and what aches and pains they’ve had the past week, and the instructor tailors class to help alleviate everyone’s problems. The instructor is great, and I get a pretty good workout in class (not cardio like Bikram yoga, but definite muscle toning and strengthening), and it definitely helps me feel less, well, pregnant. I have made this a mandatory part of my weekly routine, as the complaints of those past week 30 sound like something I couldn’t manage without weekly, mandatory, supervised stretching. My only complaint is that it isn’t more frequent – three times a week would be ideal, but I know the gym would never fill the class the often.

The prenatal swim class is much more social, as you can chat with each other the whole class, and the instructor has a toddler at home so there is much story swapping about babies and pregnancy. Other than discussing where everyone got their maternity swim suits (Old Navy seems to be the preferred vendor), the workout is great – just enough cardio that I get my blood flowing and feel tired when I get home, but definitely not raising my heart rate substantially. I also like that we focus a lot on arms, as I am very adamant about not having sagging arms to compliment my bulging belly. I know nature is against me on this one, but the big boobs, huge belly and wider ass are things I can accept as just part of being pregnant. Wobbly arms, on the other hand, are still something my previously thin self considers a tell tale sign of letting oneself go, and I am too vain to have mommy arms (especially at 27).

There are a few other groups in town for pregnant women, but I haven’t gotten up the nerve (or the desire, really) to join anything. If you can’t already tell, I’m a bit of a whinny, self important snob, and the thought of sitting around discussing child care philosophies sounds like a great opportunity for me to make an ass of myself. And isn’t that what playgroups are for?


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