I had a vivid vision of how I imagined my first birthing experience would unfold: calming music, smiles all around, and me — giving birth as if it were the most natural thing in the world, preferably in my own tub. After watching countless documentaries, I felt prepared. So when I spotted an advertisement for a hypnobirthing class at the birthing center where I was receiving prenatal care, I immediately thought it was meant for me.
HypnoBirthing is a well-regarded technique designed to help women approach childbirth in a serene and beautiful way. “Perfect!” I mused. “That’s exactly how I want to bring my baby into the world. Count me in!”
Fast forward a few months, and my partner and I found ourselves climbing the stairs to a hypnobirthing class perched above a yoga studio in the heart of Brooklyn. We were welcomed by a calm, smiling instructor, and after handing over our $350 check, we removed our shoes and joined the circle of expectant couples already forming in the studio.
The initial sessions involved our instructor reading from Hypnobirthing Made Easy, a book I had at home. I felt a bit disappointed but figured it was part of the meditative process. By the third session, one of the other moms leaned over and whispered, “What’s going on? Are we actually going to learn how to hypnotize ourselves or just listen to someone read?” I was relieved to find someone else feeling skeptical. That seemed to prompt the instructor to switch things up; instead of reading, she showed us various birth videos.
The calmness of the women in those videos was astonishing. Honestly, I looked more pained doing sit-ups than any of them did while giving birth. One woman even appeared to have an orgasm during delivery, a sight I didn’t want to see and have tried to erase from my memory. As I watched with my husband, who was clearly horrified, I began to wonder if I was truly cut out for this serene birthing experience.
Finally, in session four, we dove into hypnosis. The instructor guided us through an exercise, instructing us to close our eyes and visualize descending a staircase, each step taking us deeper into relaxation. I tried to follow along but found myself waving my hand around, fully aware that I had complete control of it. A quick glance confirmed I was the only one doing so. My husband? Fast asleep.
After what felt like an eternity, the instructor counted back from ten. As she finished, she encouraged us to share our experiences. One by one, my classmates shared their thoughts about feeling disconnected from their hands. I hesitated but finally admitted, “I could move my hand. I always can. I can’t imagine a time when I would be unable to control it.”
The instructor looked at me, unfazed, and asked, “Maria, have you always struggled with control?” Touché, instructor, touché.
In the end, my need for control led to an emergency c-section. Ironically, while I couldn’t move my legs afterward, I was pretty sure that was due to the epidural. The takeaway? If you feel like an oddball in your birthing class, remember: they aren’t for everyone.
For more insights, check out this post on intracervical insemination and learn about essential resources like CDC’s pregnancy guide for your journey. If you’re delving into your fertility journey, Make a Mom offers valuable information and support.
In summary, my birthing class experience was far from what I imagined. Instead of calm and control, I found myself overwhelmed and questioning my ability to embrace the process. But through it all, the key is to find your own path and not get discouraged if you don’t fit the mold.