Yoga, Yoga, Yoga Mamma!

I am a Yogi. However, I wasn't always a Yogi. I had other designs on how I should unwind - they weren't exactly what you would call Zen.

I worked very hard long hours in a competitive industry. At the end of a week or a long production my co- workers and I would blow off steam by wracking up one hell of a bar tab. And then on my own time when drowning my week was not an option I would grab my gym bag out of the hall closet and head to my local Kickboxing Gym where I would be run through drills leaving me as wiped out as a hangover. Once I was skilled enough to check out the ring I was paired to fight against my weight class, which just so happened to be a 15 year old acne faced boy. A few rounds to the head left me curled in a ball on the ring floor pleading for my mommy.

This clearly was not going to work out. Vanity would not permit me to get myself beat to a pulp. I couldn't be the fashionista TV producer by day with a glowing shiner. I was too old to sport Goth make up to cover my facial blunders. So I decided to try out Taekwondo. It was a sport steeped in history. I would have to learn an ancient form of discipline, I got to wear more protective padding and I could still blow off steam by kicking people. This I thought was going to be the greatest balance to my life. I began to take three or four Taekwondo classes a week and actually got into peek physical shape.

After a year of practice, and as I neared my black belt, I found was not getting the benefits I was looking for in a mental and physical outlet. I was still restless, prone to bouts of insomnia and anxiety. I figured it must be all the work I was taking on and the fact that I was still grieving the loss of my mother. I decided to add counseling into the already full schedule of work, social engagements, bar tabs and Taekwondo workouts figuring that was the missing link.

My therapist suggested I keep a journal and try an outlet for my grief like boxing. Yeah right. I was already doing those things. That's when I stopped paying for the therapist and went back to the gym to kick a few ladies before heading home to a bottle of delicious dinner...all things in moderation right?

Then someone suggested I try a Yoga class. Yeah, that's too slow for me. I am a fast paced high- strung person. I need to wear myself out in order to wind down. But, as I soon found out - this is not the case. In fact, a naturally hyper person,, prone to worry and anxiety, needs to get out of their head. They need the polar opposite of speed - what they need to do is slow down!

It was no time before I had quit everything but work in order to practice yoga. For the first time in ages I was sleeping through the night. I had reduced my coffee intake letting a natural high take it's place. I even opted out of after work debauchery so I could get to bed at a reasonable hour in order to wake early to attend a yoga class. My boyfriend said I was becoming a nicer person....which must have been true ...because he liked me enough to ask me to be his wife.

I bailed on life in January 2007 and headed to a month long yoga retreat where I became certified to instruct yoga. This was a perk as I had only intended to go there to get some rest, to work on my personal yoga practice and personal life. It became abundantly aware to me as I went through this process that this could be such a beneficial practice for the pregnant woman. I began to think about pre-natal and post-natal yoga. This is odd as I was pretty firm I would not have children of my own as I really enjoyed my career which in order to become successful did not leave room for a family life. Nor did I have a biological clock ticking. It just struck me as though this would be a practical practice for a mother carrying a child.

Now as a transformed woman- a yogi, who is married and now with child - I have to sing the praises of my yoga practice for helping ease me through the changes of my body as the pregnancy takes over. On days where I feel gawky and awkward, when growing pains and leg cramps battle to take over, I head to my yoga mat. When I have a bad bubble of gas, stuck, causing acute pain that leaves me breathless, I head to my yoga mat. When I am over tired and teary, I head to my yoga mat. When I am happy and hyper, I head to my yoga mat. At this point I am addicted to my practice - wild horses couldn't drag me away from it in my regular weekly routine.

For me there is a sense of calm and well- being that comes from my personal yoga practice. It's the best medicine. And when I feel the need to self medicate - I head to my yoga mat. I will probably still hang with the work crew periodically after a week's work. All things in moderation are part of my new balance- but- rest assured for these 40 weeks I am the designated driver by choice and by default!

I have been teaching yoga eight to ten hours a week since my tenth week of pregnancy. I am my own Guinea Pig when it comes to learning the body of a woman in the family way. How does the relaxin affect the joints and muscles? How does the balance shift as the body becomes more rotund? How does the baby react to certain postures? It's fascinating to me.

I have spoken with a few labor and delivery nurses and my midwives about my yoga practice. They all light up and say I should do great during labor advising me to keep up with my practice. And if I require any more encouragement or proof I need only look at my friend who is an Ashtanga Yoga fanatic who recently went through her pregnancy without missing a class. She had a fast natural delivery and within a few weeks was right back into her yoga practice. She attended regular classes - they were not geared toward maternity (which is completely advisable if you are already practicing this style of yoga prior to pregnancy.) She can surely attribute her regular practice of yoga to a healthy delivery and healthy baby.

Yoga during pregnancy helps to alleviate bloating due to water retention, ward off miserable nights of discomfort while trying to get into a comfortable position in bed, creates space in the abdomen for the baby, can adjust the position of the baby in order to help get that limb out from under your rib cage or off your bladder! Yoga will help to keep abdominal strength up, strengthen back muscles (which is vital to supporting a baby belly) and help to pull the shoulders back. Women who carry babies and baby bellies are prone to rounding the shoulders causing muscle pain in the mid back and neck. A prenatal yoga class instructor will also likely lead a series of Kegel exercises which will help post labor. Breath work and focus are developed during a regular yoga practice which will carry a woman quite far during labor. I will defiantly report back on this when my time comes!

If you are new to yoga and want to register for a prenatal yoga class - it's best to find a certified instructor who is aware of the correct postures for pregnant women as there are some that should be avoided during early pregnancy. Some classes will ask that you begin after your 14th week of pregnancy and may even go so far as to ask for a doctor's note prior to your participation.

Once practicing beware of bone alignment, muscles and joints - the relaxin has kicked in and your will find yourself to be more flexible than ever before. Be cautious not to over do your stretching, go slowly, savour your "you" time.

No excuses now! Don't let your ugly bare feet and the fact that you have no pants that fit any longer stop you from heading out to try a pre-natal yoga class! Go get yourself a pedicure and some big girl pants and then hit up your local yoga studio for some quality mom and baby time. Get to know yourself, your body and your womb-mate before the big delivery day.

Seriously girls, knocked up or not, yogatta try this!

I Need A Christmas Miracle!

As most women do, I have a running "Honey Do" list going .  A list containing all the household gack I would like to get organized, moved, thrown out, fixed, bought or returned, mowed, raked and planted.  I am the "HONEY" in this equation. Most women make this list for their Hubby - but- I am the hubby around the house - Shhhh, don't tell mine!  Don't get me wrong, my Hubby loves to work on projects but they mostly revolve around marine activities and boat building...not so much home repair or maintenance.  

Truthfully,  I like to get to the home repairs and take a lot of enjoyment out of learning to do them myself.  But, this is becoming increasingly difficult as my expanding belly begins to get in the way.  I can't lift boxes, or squeeze into small spaces or climb the pull down attic stairs,  like I could,  even up to last week, thus my "Honey Do" list is actually morphing into a real "Honey DO" list as I enlist the help of a very helpful Hubby ... on his terms.

On the top of this list for the better part of a year has been:

  "Sort through remaining boxes, repack into squirrel proof rubber containers, store in attic."

We have been in our house almost a year. We purged big time before moving south so unpacking only what we wanted to keep without sorting made it a lot easier. Still there are the boxes of old photographs and letters you can get lost in - a whole afternoon gone before you know it - dragging out the unpacking process.  

I unpacked and sorted the house out as best I could before company began rolling in to visit, and that's where my organizing stopped.  I had hit a point where everything had a place and the remaining boxes I didn't feel like going through were stuffed into a  closet and an out of the way corner of our home office.  Don't get me wrong - the stack of boxes was an eyesore.  But I had become accustomed to turning a blind eye to them and they didn't seem to bother Hubby in the least.   I vacuumed and dusted around the stack of boxes in the office until the other day when I had had enough.  

I began to go through the boxes:

* Four boxes of tax papers to be held for another 5 years. 

* Two empty bankers boxes - collecting dust.

* A rubber container full of fabric samples and a sewing kit.  

* A box of Christmas wrapping paper -yeah that would have been handy to find last week before    I bought 4 more rolls! (Sorry trees - it's the last year for paper wrap I swear!) 

* A box of my shoes ( all 40 pair) I don't have a shoe shopping problem I like to think of it as        more of an ability - really.  

* And finally a heavy bankers size box of my husbands things...which I opened to find, one video

   game three pounds of Canadian pennies, some old pens and pencils, a stethoscope and a few        cross country running medals. 

I am happy to say the office has been cleared of all this gack! The shoes  have been donated - the rest put away, there have been more than a few trips to the garbage and the rest readied for storage in the attic.  Number one Hubby was home, he willingly carried our condensed couple of boxes to the second floor to go into the attic. 

They are no longer in my office or closet!   YAHOOO!

But, they are at the top of the second floor stairs ... in a pile where Hubby left them.  So close to the attic and out of my sight.  So close.  Who wants to place bets on how long they will sit there?

I head back to my "Honey Do" list and write,  "Move Boxes to Attic" once more on the top of the list - right underneath where I had struck a line through the original only hours earlier.  

At some point I will become annoyed with vacuuming around the boxes again and I will head back to Hubby to ask for the boxes to finally go up into the attic. 

But how long will that take me?  

I might just need a Christmas Miracle - to get the stuff to the attic - before another year passes. I might. 

TAG:

The boxes made it to the attic on December 21st! YAY! Thank You Hubby!

I am a newborn.

In week 20 of the pregnancy journey I have really come to understand that I am no longer the boss of me.  Yup. It took me 20 weeks to figure this out.  

I have always been headstrong, independent and able bodied.  I have fought hard for things I believe in, my family, my career, my relationship, my committees. I have been guilty of working too much, playing hard, wearing myself out physically and mentally only to back off and reboot so I could to launch into it all over again.  It's a pattern with me.  In those burn out times I remind myself to get back to working moderately, eating well, exercising and sleeping better. Only the last time I did this - I vowed to stick to it - and I have made the latter my new pattern in a conscious attempt to balance out my life.  Michelle on half speed is still twice as fast as most on full speed.  It's just me. 

This was working well for the most part until ... pregnancy. Suddenly my career, my play, my exercise, my relationship, my sleep - is ours.  Me, me, me, my, has become you, you, you, we, ours. 

I thought I was ready.  I have very new nieces and nephews and have seen first hand the commitment to rearing the young.  I just didn't know it starts so soon in pregnancy.  At week nine my mother in law emailed to ask how I was feeling.  I told her I was ready to move the fridge beside the toilet and just camp out there.  I was wearing a path into the floor between the bathroom and the fridge.  Not to mention I had not slept in days. I was either up to go to the fridge or the bathroom every half- hour. It was SO annoying.  I was annoying myself.  

Each day would start with a plan to clean out the last of boxes in the office, vaccuum the house, plant the spring bulbs, and write an article. But, shortly after my morning shower baby would take over and say  - hey you,  lady, it's nap time, I'm STARVING, or let's skip to the lou...NOW!

Needless to say my responsiblities around the house and work were slipping to lows I had never let my self experience.  The super odd thing was - I didn't even care.  I was so tired.

By weeks 15 - 19 I was sleeping like a baby or so the expression goes. The weather had cooled off,  I was wearing my favorite flannel Pj's and was nestled into bed for perfect nights sleep.  Ah, starting to feel like old me - only fatter - I can handle this.   Baby was cooperating with me - we were sharing the host body quite amicably.   The house became Ship shape,  I did get to the boxes, the articles and to hosting company again.  My world was right. Our world was right.

And then sleep became illusive.  I began awakening to allergy attacks.  No, no symptoms other than a stuffy nose. Oh I hope I am not getting sick. I  dip into the vitamin C.  The next night I am in for a repeat show.  Honeslty this is a nightmare.  It's like being dragged to the worst play night after night and being made to sit in the front row.  Up and down for the nose, the chap stick now necessary due to the new mouth breathing technique I have adopted, then for a sip of water, which leads to the pee break and a new cycle begins.  

Apparently, a stuffy nose in the night is very common in the second trimester.  There is no cold. There are no allergies - but - if you suffer allergies  they will get worse,  I read in my pregnancy guide.  Awesome! 

Last night sleep was taken to an all new high when I awoke choking at 4:30 AM.  

Steve:  Are you okay hun?

Michelle: Yeah, I am pregnant.

Steve: You are! Is it mine?

Michelle: Pretty sure.

Steve: ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ

I get up for easily the 10th time in eight hours. 

I am pretty sure this is newborn baby boot-camp. Only I am playing newborn now. Nature has an interesting way of teaching us new patterns.

This Ship has a baby on board...NOW WHAT?

Wow.

Our lives have been changed for 16 weeks now.

Settling nicely into the second trimester and finally unable to hide my newly and ever expanding pot-belly we (Steve, baby and I) are adjusting to the idea of having a little person around.

I figured I would set this blog up to share with our friends, family and anyone else who wants to come along for our journey as we morph from a hedonistic career and travel oriented duo into ...dare I say it..? Parents.