Every pregnancy is different.

For realz.

With Jack I gained something like 70 pounds. From 135 to 206 when I checked into labor and delivery for my destined-to-fail induction. I exercised a lot in the first 20 weeks and not at all in the subsequent 20.

With Henry I walked and did what I can safely describe as kick-ass yoga all the way to the end. I had a freakin’ awesome VBAC.

I imagined my third and final pregnancy to build on the lessons and successes of the previous two. Not so, says my body.

My umbilical hernia is back. My core strength is tragic. My balance is comical and dangerous. My yoga is not so … hot.

Now, for the last 11 months they (my yoga teachers) have been telling me that you can work hard and feel the burn in a class at any level. But I haven’t felt that it be true, because I’ve always been pushing myself to the next level. More extension, more flexibility. This baby has forced me to embrace the “take it easy” route. And while taking it easy I’ve been trying to scale back my yoga class level. Not so much a 2/3 or 3 but more of a 2 or a prenatal.

You know what?? It’s still hard. Not just because my body is kinda betraying me and derailing my plans for awesome prenatal yoga photos, but because if you apply the Universal Principals of Alignment yoga at any level can make you feel the burn.

So- although I’m taking it easy and being gentle and (mostly) kind to my body, yoga isn’t easy. Even if it is gentile. It’s easy, and it’s hard. It’s a paradox.

Yoga, the paradox. Who knew?!

This weekend I graduate from my 200 hour Hatha Yoga Teacher Training program. This weekend I attend my first John Friend workshop. This weekend I attend my first Chuck E Cheese birthday party in 20 years. It’s gonna be big!

Advertisements