I’ve surprised a few people with how much I love being pregnant.
Whenever I’m asked“Are you over it yet?” my answer is “No! I love it.” Over the past eight and a half months, I’ve had one eye on the end prize (the baby), but I’ve enjoyed being present with things as they are. I’ve relished the wonder of each day; every centimetre of growth, every twitch and roll of my belly.
Now, at 39 weeks, am I “over it?” That’s a question that’s getting harder to answer. I’m officially getting anxious to meet my baby and getting increasingly uncomfortable in my continuously expanding body. At the same time, I’m still in awe of the fact that I’m carrying a fully developed baby. I have mixed feelings about this coming to an end.
The tail end of pregnancy seems to be a tough game of simply … waiting.
While I wait, I have copious amounts of spare time (savour it now, I’m told). So, I’ve taken to reading Dr Seuss to my baby. Yesterday afternoon was an inspiring reading of Oh, The Places You’ll Go! No matter how many times I’ve read this book, I’m always touched by the man’s insight:
You can get so confused
that you’ll start in to race
down long wiggled roads at a break-necking pace
and grind on for miles across weirdish wild space,
headed, I fear, toward a most useless place.
The Waiting Place …
… for people just waiting.
Waiting for a train to go
or a bus to come, or a plane to go
or the mail to come, or the rain to go
or the phone to ring, or the snow to snow
or waiting around for a Yes or a No
or waiting for their hair to grow.
Everyone is just waiting.
~ Dr Seuss (Oh, The Places You’ll Go!)
Ah, how true! I added in a line for the baby’s benefit: ‘Waiting for their baby to show’. But really, waiting for baby is a variation on my normal behaviour. This time though, the wait is for something somewhat more significant and life changing, than a coffee break.
I know I’m not alone in my tendency to be ‘waiting’. No matter how perfect a life may look, or how content we may be with our lot, we all seem to be waiting for something. Constantly looking ahead, whether it be for a lunch break, a change of career, a catch up with friends, or five p.m.
I have a tendency to get frustrated with myself whenever I notice that I’m living in a state of ‘waiting’, utterly detached from the present moment. But what use is frustration? Perhaps all the better to simply notice what’s happening and do my best to come back to the moment.
Even now, my yoga mat is one of the most effective places for me to return to centre. Tuning into the simplest of movements, noticing the sensations in my body and the way my breath connects me with the moment. It feels great.
Of course, it’s possible to do the same off the yoga mat too: Notice. Acknowledge. Tune in. Repeat.
I don’t profess to be a pro at this, nor that it’s an easy thing to do. But I know it’s essential for me right now. When it feels as though the waiting has taken over every moment of my day, every ounce of my mental energy, focusing on what’s real—now—is seriously refreshing. And, as they say, practice makes perfect. I’m getting plenty of practice!
*Find all of the Pregnant Yogini’s articles here.
Editor: Andrea B.
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