Prenatal "Yoga"

I have never been much of a fan of yoga. I prefer fast moving, high adrenaline activities where there is no time to think and realize that I am extremely uncomfortable or scared shitless. These days, however, I enviously eye mountain bikers unloading their gear, MMA fighters on the television, and even runners sprinting their hearts out in the trails. These past few months, I have become a a spokesperson for moderation, the old me's nemesis. I take days off from exercise, hell I take weeks off and sit on the couch and eat salty comfort foods. I head out for runs and end up walking the entire time. I have had my swimming gear in my back seat for two months and have not gotten my feet wet (since the day my swimming pal told me she saw a belly protruding). And I am happy to spend the entire day inside in my pajamas reading books, and even cooking, (for those of you who don't know me: this is insanely abnormal). I have even considered taking up knitting, along with my new casserole obsession. And yoga, the fact that I have attended more than one class a week is indicative of the change in my exertion preferences. This slow moving activity, the deep breathing and long breaks, is tempting and relaxing at times. I have been going to Iyengar, Hatha, Yin, Kundalini and Power on the good days. At the beginning of each class I make an awkward introduction to the instructor and tell them, complete strangers, that I am pregnant. They then instruct me on what I can and cannot do, each instructor with a different mantra. I have heard "no twists, no lying on the belly, no lying on your back, don't strain, no hot yoga, twist but not too much, no inversions, do anything that feels right: you will know if its not right (to that teacher I should have said: nothing feels right!)" And the best advice, given by a highly respected male instructor : "try out a prenatal yoga class they will tell you what you can and can't do".

So I took the plunge last Thursday and made my way to my first, and potentially last prenatal yoga class. I arrived a tad early which is not a comfortable place for me to be. I don't know what to do when I am early for yoga classes, and at a prenatal yoga class I found out that women just talk about their babies and their plans and yada yada. I have yet to buy anything for my babe, I have no plans, I have no idea where we will live in six months let alone what colour the nursery will be! I opted for silence. Before entering the studio I was stopped by the cashier and told "this is a prenatal yoga class". I gathered that she thought I was either too skinny to be pregnant, or too young to possibly be pregnant and showing my face amongst the older thirty and forty year olds. I smiled, said nothing and entered the class. I sat on my mat and stretched in silence with no clue what to anticipate. I listened to the instructor walk around and introduce herself to the new members. I realized that there were women in the class who were far less pregnant than me, but seemed by visual speculation, much further along. They had bumps, where is my bump? I should remember to take another pregnancy test soon if a bump does not present. I introduced myself and told her I was 16 weeks and had done yoga before and avoided her eye contact while she smiled and stared at me in this odd spiritual way that is supposed to transcend silence, but made me feel more awkward still. And that was just the beginning.

I want to sum the class up in one paragraph. Basically we spent less than a quarter of the time on our feet, the majority of the class sitting cross legged and the end sleeping in the fetal position. It seemed more like a spiritual dance and chant class than yoga. We belly danced for a good ten minutes, again very awkwardly and hollered out whatever we 'needed to'. I must admit I enjoyed the belly dancing music and asked the Man to make me a cd when I got home. Everything I hated during the class, I look back on with a meek fondness. I can't remember the last time I danced like that, freely, out of rhythm, and sober. Likely not anytime after the age of 12. And we even did some breathing exercises where we hummed nursery rhymes. I don't know any nursery rhymes, so I was horrible at this, but learning important mothering skills, I think. If I do go back, which I doubt I will for a long time. Until I can't do normal yoga anymore, or I can't run freely or go to the gym with my head held high. Until that moment, I may not go back. But if I do go back, there will be two reasons, neither of them related to the physical benefit of the practice. The first is the constant humiliation I felt in the class. Rarely do I feel that stupid and uncomfortable. But, birth can often feel that way too. I can imagine feeling awkward screaming in pain, or moaning or kneeling on all fours or squatting over a toilet with a doula, a midwife, my Man and others surrounding me. I also realize that the awkwardness may cause me to clench up, to tighten my muscles and my being and make birthing impossible. This class encourages us to feel stupid and enjoy it, relax and do what feels right in front of a room full of strangers. The second important lesson was learned in the last ten minutes before shavasana (sleep time) when we stuck our arms straight up in the air and waved them up and down like birds, for ten minutes straight. My shoulders hurt after one minute. But she said we could not stop, we had to push through and so on. I am a sucker for the mantra "no pain no gain" so I jumped on this exercise as soon as she yelled "don't give up!" I watched some ladies put their arms down and my competitive edge kicked in and I flapped harder and stronger. She said "do whatever you have to but continue flapping!" I found myself closing my eyes and rotating my spine in large circles and nodding my head up and down and visualizing myself running around the last corner on a track (the worst part of my race when I ran the 800m), but in my vision I was kicking and getting stronger, I think I even saw a six pack bursting out as I continued to the finish line. And then for the first time ever a vision of me birthing popped into my mind. I was crying and sweating and looked like I was in agony, and for some reason I was flapping my arms as distraction. And I endured, I continued to circle my spine and flap my arms and tried to relax my muscles and rest whilst still contracting the muscles. My arms got warm and tingly and soft and relaxed and the pain began to vanish and it started to feel like I could continue forever...."Stop!" Back to reality, back to the awkward yoga class with older women with bigger bellies and more confident belly dancing. Back to the real me, but just a little bit more prepared perhaps.

Would I recommend prenatal yoga? Its hard to say after just one class. But I can imagine, for some women that have never exercised, doing anything during pregnancy (even if its dancing and arm flapping, aka 'yoga') is better than sitting at home eating chips and McDonalds. For others who are more active and continuing to work-out during pregnancy, I would say to try it out, but not to expect a work out physically but rather mentally. I will warn you to be prepared for the gushy, flowery lingo and the constant hugging of your 'babies'. This I was not prepared for, you see I have yet to develop an attachment to my 3 oz. baby because I have yet to see it bulge from my belly. I need a visual bump before I hug my baby and talk to my baby and sing disjointed nursery rhymes. After that class, I feel that I may be alone with my feelings of disconnect. Perhaps tonight I will belly dance and hmmm and haaa and hug my baby and work on that 'bond' in the privacy of my home and the company of myself.