Full of cautious hope, I head into class
Will old leggings hold my preggo girl ass?
I place my mat down, and I hit Child’s Pose
I’d run, but I can’t, so it’s yoga I chose
Tuck my toes, Down Dog, I lift my hips high
I don’t feel great, but I’m here just to try
I pedal my feet, I twist and I wiggle
Do I feel gas? Clench! Don’t you dare giggle!
Oh, good, feet to the front, I breathe, I chill
Did I take Zofran? I need that lil’ pill
It works so well, and without it I’m nauseous
Damn! I forgot it, I’d better be cautious
I stand, my arms raise, I nail Mountain Pose
I look down, oh shit, I can’t see my toes
How will I know if I’ll lose all this weight gain?
It might all just climax with back labor pain
Sixty minutes, body! You can do it!
For quite a few weeks, you only could sit
I half-lift, plant hands, step back, and then I flow
I just swallowed vomit, oh great, a new low
My butt cheek itches, damn that hormone shot!
I reach back and scratch. My neighbor saw. Caught!
That judgy bitch by me is big-boobed and thin
Her mat’s where I’ll aim if I throw up again
High Plank to Low Plank, I can’t lift back up
Flop to my belly! Do I submit? Yup
My arms are too weak, my body feels foreign
Must let it go, but the tears start to pour in
Breathing is tough, I can hardly get air
I huff and I puff, people start to stare
How many times must I do this vinyasa?
I could be at home, curled up in mi casa
I try to balance, lifting tall in Tree
I’m kicked from inside, and I have to pee
Some preggo yogis feel great, they glow and such
But your cervix? A lotus? That’s a bit much
I hear Horse Pose helps for when Baby comes
We rise and we fall, all dropping our bums
I grunt as I flow, but it beats giving birth
I’m terrified of my kid’s head and its girth
And then it happens: a small puff of air
Screw it. I farted. Do I fucking care?
I know I’m lucky, but this shit ain’t fun
Soon we’ll meet Baby, and this can be done
We hit the mat, I’m weighed down by fatigue
Should I have come? Is this out of my league?
I lie on my back, and the heartburn sets in
Bridge lifts my hips up, brings my chest to my chin
Almost made it, my body feels better
Wait….What is that leak? My undies? Wetter
For the love of god…now a whole new headache?
This break-dancing baby should give Mom a break!
Now at the end, final relaxation
I fret about pain at zero station
Hemorrhoids now gone, I thought yoga a good plan
I’ll want to come back, and I hope that I can
Roll up my mat, put away block and strap
Some have it easy, but I get all the crap
I tried my best. My body is not the same
I’m warm now from wearing a blanket of shame
We slowly sit tall, I try anyway
I breathe and I say that last namaste
It’s time to go home, I may need two showers
My husband is sweet, I came home to flowers
I can learn from this time, I know that I can
But it would be simpler to be a man
Forty weeks are a gift, I do truly know
But my honest feelings to myself I owe
Author’s Note: I recognize that some women cannot have children, and this is in no way meant to disrespect or demean their experience. Rather, it is simply to share my own experience. Being a woman is hard enough, so it is essential that we have compassion and grace for each woman’s experience.