Pregnancy With Dummies

We had our first parenting class a few days ago.

Our midwife was a quietly spoken woman who's Swedish was mostly a bit fast for me. I followed the gist of what she said, most of the time, but it was hard work. I kept tuning out, my poor old brain trying to decode the previous sentence as the next three or four rolled by.

Much of the time, I was hypnotised by what she was doing with her hands.

Early on, she picked up a stuffed baby. It was a pretty hideous bendy ragdoll thing with a unisex beige body, an eerily staring plastic head and the most amazing knitted umbilical cord. This last was a full-scale replica of the real thing, with blue and red blood vessels spiralling along it in bright colours. It looked like an Oxbridge scarf had been clumsily attached to the newborn by some nearsighted but collegiate-minded professor.

Once she picked it up, she didn't put it down.

It did all sorts. It dived and twirled through a plastic pelvis. It cradled itself under her neck and against her bosum. It swam about and contorted against her belly to show us its preferred positions, pre-birth. All of this was during active demonstrations, of course. What was really fascinating was what she did with it the rest of the time, when she'd sort of forgotten she was holding it.

Did you know you can play a baby like a concertina? I didn't, but I'm going to have to assume that's what she was explaining. You can also keep it snug and warm by rolling it into a little ball and tucking it under one arm. And if you're having trouble carrying junior, why not try this nifty trick - tie the cord round its wrists and ankles, and carry it like a bowling ball bag!

This was all before she brought out the plushy placenta, which was a violet jellyfish-looking thing with net membranes. That has supplanted the leering face of David Cameron enjoying the latest round of benefit cuts in my nightmares, as of tonight. My midnight welfare state is going to be axed by a furry neon afterbirth.

The class was pretty good, though, calm, reassuring and informative in equal measures. The bits I understood, anyway. This is Sweden, so the first thing we discussed was who was bringing the fikabröd for next week's class. Fikabröd is a generic term for bakery goods eaten with coffee, and along with coffee breaks, is a national obsession. You want to know how long it takes the baby to show up after your water breaks? After the coffee break, that's when.