Buddha Belly Love

I’m pregnant. And I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy. And it shocks me. Even though I’ve always valued family and even though I’ve always secretly had internal conversations with my future child, I was never really, absolutely sure if I wanted to do it. Because I also value my independence. And I was worried that it might go away. Worried that my identity, my personality, my entire being might be consumed by a brat in poopy diapers.

But once it happened, it was a like a switch flipped in my brain. In place of the fear is lots of excitement. After the first appointment when I heard the heartbeat, I didn’t sleep all night. As my friend Josh put it, I was high on vitamin B – vitamin baby. Also, it’s just the most beautifully mysterious process I have – and will ever – go through. There are so many moments where I wonder – where are you now little one? Are you sleeping and sucking your thumb? Floating around doing your own personal water ballet? When I do yoga, does it feel good to you? How about Down Dog – do you like being suspended in the hammock of my belly?

Yesterday I had a realization while I was doing yoga: One of the biggest gifts of being pregnant is that I’m a whole lot kinder to myself. I’m finding that this is the one time in a woman’s life when the rules change. For starters, you get to eat whenever you’re hungry and until you’re full. Without guilt. And you get to take naps when you’re tired. Without guilt. And you’re asked to exercise moderately, at a pace that feels safe and good and uplifting. Instead of working yourself to death in hopes of improving or changing yourself. It's pretty darn glorious.

During my yoga class yesterday – it was a regular people’s class, not a prenatal class -- I was so tired. When I lifted my arms into Warrior, I felt my heart rate go up. When I did my knees-down Chaturanga push-up, my arms fatigued. It was just HARD in a way that felt completely unfamiliar to me. But it was perhaps the first time ever that feeling fatigued didn’t annoy me or make feel like a lazy turd. My inner voice was so kind, because it was all about the baby. And I made a mental connection – a connection that I’ve heard so many times before – that in order to be kind and open and allowing of someone else, you have to be kind to yourself. It’s got to start with you, how you treat yourself.

Can you forgive yourself for feeling tired? Out of shape? For…gasp…aging and changing? Can you not only forgive, but be kind and happy and embracing of all the shades, moods, and aspects of yourself? If you can, wow. I congratulate you. Because the glimpses of it that I’m having are making my experience of life infinitely happier and easier.

I hope I can be kind to my kid. I worry about my tendency to be impatient. Plus a million other character flaws. But impatience is at the top of the list. At the same time, I know that these moments of feeling a little kinder, gentler, easier toward myself are helping me prepare and create space for another little being. And it doesn’t feel like I’m losing myself at all. It feels like I’m discovering different aspects of myself that I wouldn’t have otherwise discovered. And it feels good.

Comments

[VictoriaKlein]

First off, congratulations!! :D

Secondly, I must thank you for posting such an honest & heartwarming post. Pregnant or not, we all could stand to be more compassionate, patient, and loving with ourselves (and others). :) <3

[andrea ferretti]

Thanks so much Victoria! It's definitely a constant practice for me :)