You don’t see a knitted boob everyday. At our antenatal class this week, though, they were all over the place. A variety of shapes, sizes, and colours flying across the room in the name of education. As they were being handed out, I wasn’t sure if I should take one or not. I noticed the other gentleman in the group took one and I didn’t want to rock the boat, so when the bag full of boobs reached me I dutifully grabbed one. I spent the next ten minutes or so trying to figure out the best way to hold a knitted boob without it looking a bit weird. I eventually concluded that there is no way to do it and passed my boob to my wife, who of course found the whole situation hilarious.
The boobs had a serious point, of course. We were being taught about the art of breastfeeding which, it has to be said is a perfect, brilliant design.
The class also featured a selection of ethnically diverse baby dolls. These came into play when we practiced changing nappies. Faith volunteered me to have a go with a selection of pregnant ladies watching on and, I presume, judging my progress.
My job was made less easy by the baby dummy I was to change. I can only assume that ‘it’ (I couldn’t tell if it was a boy or girl) was very premature as it was so small that the nappy wrapped comfortably around its shoulders. I decided to consider the whole changing experience a success and figured that babies don’t need to use their arms that much anyway.
That was our last antenatal class. So now we are officially ready for a baby. Our due date is just a few weeks away and the excitement is becoming unbearable. We haven’t got a travel system/buggy/car seat yet, but the shopping trip has been put in the diary for Friday.
Look out, Mothercare.