Pamela Who?

This afternoon Tom and I went to an early pregnancy class.  Why yes, I am popping out my third kid.  What's your point?  We never took this one before and I'm up for doing anything that makes the third baby seem special, too.  I heard someone say that nobody cares about the pregnancy by the third kid... I just don't want it to be that way.  And (and this trumps the other two reasons), the class was being taught by Pamela Capps.


What?!  You've never heard of her?  She is a legend among my family and all friends who've had babies after we had Mad.  Pamela is a goddess of prepared childbirth and early childhood development.  One of the things I love about her prepared childbirth class is that she taught the dads what to do and how to advocate for their partners.  It's not about coaching her, it's about supporting her.  And for every nice thing you do in class Pamela says, "You just earned another hour off your labor!"  Which is pretty good for me, since I was in labor 24 hours with Corey and 35 with Madelyn.  (No, not in "serious" labor, but unlike some birth Nazis people, I count from when it starts, and mine always start off with a bang.)


It's been about two years since we finished the childbirth class with Pamela, and about 20 months since I took a new mommy class that she offers.  And yet, as soon as she walked in and saw us, she knew who Tom and I were.  She even remembered our names and asked about my "older boy."  That just floors me.  Tom says it's because we're memorable people.  I'm hoping that's true for all the right reasons.


One thing I'd forgotten about Pamela is how fricken funny she is.  We laughed and learned for over two hours today.  In her presence I am either laughing or on the verge of tears because of some touching story (like the video montage at the end today... all sorts of newborn babies who's moms and dads had been in her classes, with "The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face" by Roberta Flack playing in the background).  It made me think about Rebecca's idea of having a birth song as I was dabbing away the tears.


One thing I wish for all parents-to-be is that they could all have their own Pamela Capps, to guide, to cheer, to enlighten and to encourage them to find their own voices.  Perhaps more moms would see their bodies as a source of strength and pride.  And more dads would feel inspired by what their women do to bring a child into this world.