By the time I am eight months pregnant, I am already too smart for my own good. I’ve spent the first two trimesters preparing the only way I know how: By reading every book there is and all of the internet. I have watched approximately 1,000 perineums stretch beyond their limits on YouTube. I have become a pedant for childbirth.
In fact, on the way home from my very first childbirth class, I complained that we didn’t learn a single new thing. “Isn’t it nice, though,” Dustin argued, “to learn that we’ve already learned everything?” Dustin is my “birth partner” and fellow victim to the vagaries of the pull-out method.