give me a reason

It was in seventh grade health class that I learned how gross birth really is. Ms. Fischer played The Miracle of Birth video, and it took all of three minutes before I was out in the hall with my head between my knees, along with my class mate Thiago, who if I recall correctly, threw up. I've been trying to unsee those images ever since.
I figured that we would be one of twenty couples in our child birth class last night, that we could sit in the back, and that if I closed my eyes or made a swift exit during any revolting film clips that might be shown, no one would really notice. But Stephen and I made up two out of the three students, and sat directly across from the instructor who spent most of class watching our faces. So when the time came to watch "Pushing and Birth", I really had no choice. I watched. Guys, I didn't even flinch. No big deal. Maybe it's some pregnancy induced evolutionary trigger or something, but I was totally ok with what was happening on screen. So maybe, just maybe, I'll be ok with what's about to actually happen in 11 weeks. Maybe.