I started a pregnancy yoga class two weeks ago as a way to move a little more intentionally so to make up for having quit the gym 3 months ago. I haven’t been this sedentary in 10+ years, though its probably unfair to define myself this way considering I walk 1.5 miles each way to work nearly every day.
The yoga seems to have been a smart decision as I come away feeling relaxed and content. I also quite enjoy meeting other pregnant women and hearing bits about each other’s experience. One downside is that with women ranging from 14 – 38 weeks along, my ‘bump-envy’ has increased. I look around the room and can confirm that I win the award of ‘least pregnant looking.’ Even the instructor who is 3 weeks behind me is quite obviously with child. With all this, throughout the first session I kept thinking ‘I really don’t belong here… I’m not really pregnant!’ Oh denial.
At the beginning of class we go around the circle and say our name and a bit about whatever the instructor suggested we state. On week 1 we declared the basics: how far, boy or girl, # pregnancies etc. Last week we shared a mini recap about how we were feeling this week, which of course includes a bit about events that took place.
I shared about how my baby is most obviously like the daddy – mellow and only interested in doing what he wants to do when he wants to do it. I’d just made an epic, delayed by sleet bus trip to the hospital for a 2nd attempt at measuring the heart via ultrasound. It was not successful. Apparently sound-wave produced image loses clarity past 10mm. With the placenta being at the front of my uterus and chubby mummy’s tummy stacked on top, there just wasn’t much chance to get a close-up of the heart – especially not with a tightly balled back-facing baby.
This was discouraging even though I have no idea what heart measurements will tell us. Even more, it was discouraging to find that the previous two scan reports both stated ‘diminished view,’ of which meant nothing to me until this third report, which continues the phrase …due to increased BMI. Awesome. Add that to the list of shitty things you get to experience for carrying around extra pounds your whole life. Oh, but this time it negatively affects an innocent life. Double Awesome.