Last night was my first class ever in any subject that begins with “hypno-.” In this case, it was hypnobirthing. While Leah and I desperately wanted the class to be very funny, it wasn’t. Mostly, we’re going to learn to relax so that giving birth takes, if the movies are to be believed, about 5 pleasant minutes. During those 5 minutes I am apparently going to be whispering something to Leah, but I’m not sure what I have to say yet.
However, we can be sure that I won’t be saying the word, “contraction.” Why? Because hypnobirthing comes with a new vocabulary. There are no more contractions, only “energy surges.” Also:
“Ack! My water broke!” becomes “Ahhh. The membrane has released.” Breaking things: bad for babies.
“Birth canal” becomes “birth path.” Perhaps bad associations with malaria? But who wouldn’t like a nice path?
“Push” becomes “breathe out,” because it is never too early to start insisting on a zero tolerance policy for pushing and shoving.
“Obstetrician” becomes “Dr. Love.” In general, terms from the Greek are frowned upon.