Quick, Find Me A Soapbox

Yesterday was gym class day - which both the kids and I adore. We had to switch to Tuesdays from Fridays because the only thing that Garrett was doing in the Friday class was learning how to make me insane...there were too many kids for him to pay attention to anything other than running around in circles.

But I digress...

In the Friday class there was a somewhat annoying woman who wouldn't stop talking. And trying to listen to her was not on my top priorities list, as I was paying attention attempting to pay attention to both Garrett in class making sure he didn't injure any other children while running around in cirlces, and Bennett who was standing up on a chair also watching his brother run around in circles. And this woman would. not. stop. talking. I thought that she would get the hint, as my only answers to her were 'hmmm' and 'oh' but alas, this was not the case. But we were switchng days, so I was not too worried.

Lucky me, she was only doing a make up on Friday...and Tuesday is her regular class day. And since there were a lot less people for me to use to hide behind the class is significantly smaller on Tuesdays, I was stuck. And this week was a real treat, because she decided to tell me her birth story. That's right, her birth story. Which started out like this:

"He (the third child) was my home birth." At which point I told her that I used to work in OB, thus subtly implying that I was not pro-home birth in any way, shape or form. I was attempting to be kind and not find the nearest soapbox to jump on and then freak out explain to her why I was not keen on the whole home birth idea. But being that this woman wouldn't notice much unless she was driven over by a mack truck, she continued.

"He (the third child) was my home birth. The other two were c-sections." At this point it was good that I didn't have a soapbox, because the only thing I would have done is club her over the head with it. My mouth litereally hung open and I was rendered speechless. I then closed my mouth with some significant effort and said a quick prayer in thanksgiving for miracles.

There are a lot of people who believe in things such as home birth - I, however, am not one of them. Maybe it's because I am paranoid at what 'might' happen, or maybe it's just because I acutally know what 'might' and does happen...and have had to be a part of the aftermath of a homebirth gone wrong, which remains one of the worst days that I ever had as a nurse.

It took everything I had not to scream in horror when she told me that she had two c-sections and then a home birth. It took even more not to jump up on the nearest soapbox and tell her what a nut she was. I can generally follow the 'to each their own' idea, except for on certain topics - and she hit on probably one of the biggest ones that I have. So hide the soapboxes...the semester still has several weeks left.