I’m not pregnant. Seriously, I swear.
It’s just that there are certain moments in history in which the universe aligns the planets in a magical collision of solar and lunar energies – bridging girl scout cookie season with that of Hamantashen and Reeses Easter eggs. It’s like the leap year of stomach pooch for those of us with portion control issues. Yum.
But somehow those thin mints are no longer looking so thin and no amount of Boat pose will help. With bikini season just around the corner, what should I do? Fortunately, I have an unlimited class series at my favorite yoga studio, and I’ve calculated that I need to add 2.3 classes per week to get my money’s worth. So I decide to kill two birds with one stone and check out some prenatal yoga to take advantage of my pre-paid classes and embrace my newfound belly.
I had heard all about pre-natal yoga. I bought my sister a Kundalini video before the birth of her second child and after a few Sat Nams, the kid slid out in, like, 15 minutes. I’m particularly excited that there are no twists, no PMS energy in the room and no boys –
thus no need to suck in my gut anymore!!
I arrive to class and fit in right away. We go around the room sharing the experiences of our ever-changing bodies “My boobs are huge.” Me too! “I feel humungous,” I’m with ya, sister! “I crave ice cream constantly!” Yikes, maybe I really am pregnant.
Thankfully, I get placed in the group of the first trimester mommies-to-be (pfew!) I feel like a superstar in class. The actual pregnant girls are getting fatigued more easily, and can’t do as much while lugging around 30 extra pounds of budding baby, as opposed to my psuedo-carbo-baby.
I enjoy my prenatal experience so much that I decide to take my exploration further and check out “mommy and me” next. But, as opposed to prenatal, this class isn’t one I can just eat my way into. I need one extra little yoga prop besides my bolster and strap.
I knock on my neighbor’s door. “Um… Can I borrow your baby for yoga?” Score. Happily strolling to the studio, I can’t wait to share my favorite pastime with my new yog-ette in training. She’s decked out in Baby Om gear and I’m quite confident that her Happy Baby and Childs poses are already quite advanced. The moment we arrive at the studio, however, she breaks out in hysterical tears. “It’s okay, Molly. Lots of pent-up emotion is stored in the hip joints. Let it go.”
As I hear myself say those words to my new yoga buddy, I realize that’s exactly the point for me as well. In yoga, we learn about accepting “what is,” to flow with the circumstances that present themselves, and not to resist life’s ups and downs (on the scale or otherwise).
Om Shanti & Infinite gratitude,