by Jamie Reed posted in Pregnancy

Every television show with a pregnant woman features a childbirth class scene or two and it usually involves a bumbling father or funny fight between the couple that ends with them making up with plenty of time to finalize their birth plan.
In real life, childbirth class is supposed to be one of those rites of passage for new parents, and one I was actually looking forward to. I pictured my husband and I snapping a selfie in the car outside the hospital, maybe making friends with the couple we sat next to, or just getting more excited over what was to come with the actual labor and delivery. I had such high hopes for this momentous occasion.
And then I fainted.
Yes, I was that person. Not my husband, not some other poor dad-to-be (it's always the dad, right"), it was me. The person who passes out in the middle of the hospital's childbirth class. One second we're watching a video of an epidural and I'm thinking, "That doesn't look so bad, I could totally handle that," the next I was telling my husband I was feeling a little dizzy. I reached for a drink of water and the next thing I knew the class instructor was standing next to me with wet paper towels and an ice pack. Oops.
This was the day I was planning, not the one I got.
Needless to say, this was NOT the day I had imagined. That day included learning breathing techniques and getting a hospital tour. My reality was that I missed all of that and instead spent the next 24...