I pulled into the parking lot of the community center. Despite not being the one who was pregnant, I was apprehensive. I wanted to support my mate but worried I’d mess up in the classes and everyone would giggle, or worse, roll their eyes.
Birthing classes weren’t a part of most shifters’ pregnancy journey because they relied on instinct, but as Bronson was human, he insisted he needed instructions on how to cope with labor. And he’d pointed out that neither of us had any idea what we were doing.
Bronson unbuckled his seat belt, and I put a hand on his burgeoning belly. “We’ll learn breathing techniques and meet other couples.” He side-eyed me. “And don’t joke that you know how to breathe.”
“I wouldn't dream of it.” I huffed and puffed, and we both chuckled.
“No joking during the class.”
I held Bronson’s hand as we strode into the building and surveyed the classroom which was a large open space with yoga mats piled on the floor and folding chairs arranged in a circle. Five other couples had arrived before us, two of whom were chatting, but the others were standing awkwardly in a corner.
I picked up shifter scents, and my head jerked up, but when I sniffed again, they mingled with their human mates. One of the shifters who, judging by his scent, was a wolf, gave me a subtle nod.
“Welcome, Bronson and Lincoln. I’m Verity, your instructor. Welcome to the class.”
Bronson shook Verity’s hand and said how excited we were to be here.
We’re excited?
I told my beast to go to sleep.
Verity told us to grab a mat, and now that everyone was here, the class would be starting soon. I pulled a mat toward the back of the room, as neither my mate nor I wanted to be in front. Bronson pulled a notebook and pen from his backpack. He was going old-school.
I hadn’t thought to write notes during the class, so I brought out my phone and opened the notes app, pretending I was as prepared as my mate.
Verity got everyone’s attention and told us what the class would cover over the next few weeks, which included labor, delivery, and the first confusing days with our new baby.
“By the end of the course, you’ll be confident and prepared for the big day.”
I hoped that were true. Despite not being enthusiastic about the class, I was anything but confident.
Verity had us all introduce ourselves, then share our due dates and what we were most excited about on becoming parents.
Oh shoot, I didn’t know I had to prepare an essay. Of course I was ecstatic about welcoming our little one, but putting that into words, making a speech in front of other people, yikes. I’d stumble over each word, and that was assuming I could come up with even one.
Each couple took a turn sharing their due dates and how they were looking forward to meeting their child. When it was Bronson’s turn, he spoke of his enthusiasm at becoming a father but he was most looking forward to seeing me as a dad.
Tears rolled down my cheeks as I reached out to my mate, and everyone awed at the sweet moment. I gulped because now I had to say something even through the tears.
“From the moment I met my m… husband, I knew I wanted to have a child with him because he is the kindest, most generous and loving man I have ever met.”
Bronson sobbed and wiped his tears on my shirt, and the other couples sniffed and wiped their eyes.
Verity asked us if we’d watched a birth on TV, and everyone put up their hand. She smiled. “Now forget everything you saw.”
There were gasps and wide eyes and more than one, “What?”
“Birth as portrayed by the media is inaccurate,” Verity explained. She pressed a button on her laptop with diagrams, giving details about the stages of labor, and afterward she played a video of an actual birth.
Bronson was taking notes—what was he writing?—but my jaw had dropped at the omega yelling and panting while delivering their baby. My mind kept getting caught up on the details. What was that rolling pin for? And why was the omega allowed ice chips but not water?
The room was stunned into silence when the video ended, and Verity spoke of pain management. Bronson continued jotting notes, but I got stuck on the page about the epidural needle.
My mate nudged me. “Are you okay? You’re awfully pale.”
“I’m fine,” I whispered, thinking I’d welcome those ice chips about now.
Caterwauling is an effective way to manage pain,my panther added.
