This story is from Texas Monthly’s archives. We have left the text as it was originally published to maintain a clear historical record. Read more here about our archive digitization project. Last October, I had a baby. Well, not me exactly. But I did have something to do with the birth—I mean, besides that. During my wife’s labor, I was there in the labor room doing all those things fathers-to-be do in the modern age: offering moral support, timing contractions, filling paper cups with ice chips, the whole ball of wax. Then, because I had dutifully attended my Lamaze classes—another requirement for fathers-to-be in the modern age—I was allowed into the delivery room, where I had a front-row seat as my daughter came into the…The post Why I Hate Lamaze appeared first on Texas Monthly.