Today, as part of all this getting-ready-for-a-baby stuff (we have nappies and a couple of changes of clothes - is there anything else?) we attended a breastfeeding class. Thankfully it was many times better than the last experience, with a friendly positive teacher and things to play with (no, not breasts).
We arrived to find a pile of dolls on the front table. It was a little disconcerting, but more worrying was Hannah's confession that she felt warm, fuzzy and - dare I say it? - maternal emotions towards babies in the introductory video. "I will tell you up front that this video contains breasts," said the instructor, "just as a warning." At a breastfeeding class. Hmm.
It was all good fun as we practiced the 'cradle', 'cross-cradle' and 'football' baby holds (in Britain the last one would be known as a 'rugby' hold, tucked under the arm, although baby rugby isn't the most comforting image either). A second video came from Bristol! Go Somerset! Thankfully no stone circles or ley lines were invoked.
We left feeling surprisingly happy and confident about the whole thing, and I look forward to our visit from the 'lactation consultant' in the hospital shortly after birth. It seems that breast really is best. For the baby too!
Unnerving.
Easy - he hardly made a peep all class!
A baby will instinctively shuffle towards a breast when placed stomach-to-stomach with its carer. I'm going to need a bit more practice.
