Life Creates Art: I Got Kicked Out of Birthing Class

Laughter Is Good For the Soul

I grew up with an immense amount of silliness around me. There was the Italian side, which had the wine, mafia stories, loud meals and a lot of laughing, and then there was the other side... I think it’s a mixed bag of English, Irish and German, but my father, the Italian, always told me,
“You’re Italian, nothing else matters...”

Me surrounded by two different worlds.
Both my grandmothers.

So I’m Italian.
But what I really focus on is the laughter on both sides.
The “other side” of the family, my mother’s side, was always so silly. I learned that it was okay to laugh at myself, dance weird, sing out loud and off key, be only myself, and find humor in almost anything.
That lightened my life.
And sometimes got me in trouble.
___________________________

I was 24 years old, married just two years, and pregnant with my first child. My husband, with whom I had all 5 of my children, was still, even at that time, getting used to the "silly" in my family.

My Mama covered in Silly String

We were the type of family that planned Silly String attacks on Christmas Eve, hid plastic rats in my mother's cabinets to see her reaction, had Hula Hoop contests, acted out skits on video and in photographs (below), and often had liquid spewing out of our noses after laughing hard. His family was a little more proper. Not that they didn't laugh, but they weren't as goofy as my family, so it was a bit of an adjustment. And I am never quite sure he got used to it, to be honest.
So there we were, attending "Birthing Class". The class where terrified first time parents find out what they are actually getting into, and the moment where the mother has the stark realization that this monstrous thing growing in her belly has to come out- someway, somehow.

One of the first frightening things they decided to do was to say this... "Look to your left. Now look to your right. One of the three of you is going to end up having a c-section".
"Have the baby cut out of me!?!?" I thought, "No freaking way!?!"!
That was not going to be me, I decided right then and there. I was going to master the art of the birth plan and get it down pat so everything went smooth as silk. I was one determined chick.
After some more terrifying pictures and video, they sat us in groups of two, facing our birthing partner. At the time, I didn't find this to be a joke, nor did I even find it funny. Until the teacher/nurse began to show us how to breath so we could "focus" during labor.
"He-he-he-Hoooo....He-he-he-Hoooo"..... She kept going and going and going. It was then that I felt the giggle that seemed to start in my belly churning up like boiling water, but I managed to hold it back. ...
"He-he-he-Hoooo... Now you do it, and focus on the eyes of your partner", she ordered.
I took one look at my husband, cracked a brief smile and he could see the look on my face was one of fear. Fear of blurting out in laughter.

But I tried, oh I tried so hard to make the sounds, but the giggle that had been churning in my gut had been huffing it's way up to my chest, then to my throat, and all I could muster was the "He-he-he-ho-hahaha" coupled with intense laughter. Then he couldn't help himself either. "Stop laughing!" He muttered, trying to make himself seem very serious.
We got scolded a little and tried to re-focus our "focus session". He was much better at maintaining his composure than I was. I honestly don't think I got out one complete "He-he-he-Hoooo" without cracking up.
You could hear others around us also begin to join in on my little "giggle-focus-session", and all that led to was us getting scolded again by the teacher/nurse. Scold #2...
But have you ever been in one of those situations where your laughter is simply uncontrollable? Where there is no reasonable expectation that you will be able to control yourself? It is like a force that cannot be reckoned with, and the laughter comes out with such vigor that you feel you are on the borderline of madness?
That is what "He-he-he-Hooooo" was like for me...
And I was ruining the class.... I didn't mean to, but it was just so damn funny.

This isn't me, but it was kind of like this...

So one last time. The third time would be the charm? Nope. I breathed, closed my eyes, and tried to picture myself in pain from my vagina being large enough to house a baby, but....
Nope....
All I could hear was the soft patterns all around me, in different paces, in different voices-
"He-he-he-Hoooooooo....He-he-he-Hoooooo....He-he-he-Hoooooo"!!!!
I broke again.
And then- Scold #3...
we were then kicked out of Birthing Class.

***As a side note (and in my defense): Once the real labor started, it was no laughing matter and the "He-he's" and the "Hooo-Hooo's" flowed just fine. and they did help me focus. And after 24 hours of "focus" and plenty of "He-he-he-Hooo's-without laughing, I ended up being one of the three that had the C-Section... Go figure. Probably karma getting me back for not allowing others to focus properly in Birthing Class***

The reality. No laughing matter.

But the moral of the story is this: Laughter is healthy. Laughter is healing. It is freeing and lift weights off your shoulders. Sometimes you need to laugh on purpose. Like having silly string fights or Hula Hoop contests.
And sometimes laughter cannot be helped. Just as long as the laughter that cannot be helped is NOT at the expense of another, you'll be okay. So laugh!
Laugh at yourself. My mother used to spill food on her shirt all the time and she would always laugh at herself. It taught me to not take myself , or my clothing so seriously. Life can be fun if you look for the good, the joy, the silly and the fun in it.
And don't be afraid of how you will "look" to others.
*Disclaimer* I have met people in my life that I actually labeled "buffoons". Not because they were silly and laughed a lot, but because they were in situations that were very serious (a memorial museum, instrumental performance, and veterans memorial ceremony) and decided that was the time to show off their humor. Don't be a buffoon.

Me as a strong young girl. (hands on the left)

But do laugh, and laugh often.

Maybe there were those at the Birthing Class that called me a buffoon for laughing at the "He-he-he-Hooo". I don't know.

But you try it, I dare you. Sit face-to-face with someone, look them in the eye and huff out a few "He-he-he-Hooo's" and try NOT to laugh.
Tell me how that goes.