How Yoga Helped Me Through Pregnancy

When I was 15 weeks pregnant I left my one year old at home and ventured out to a pregnancy yoga class. It was my third attempt in as many weeks to take my I-could-vomit-at-any-moment sick self to class. Until this point every moment of every day since we’d conceived had been about surviving (more on that here), so this yoga class was my first attempt to focus on the pregnancy in a positive way, connect with the baby in my womb and do something for my own health. And though I missed a few classes due to the sickness, most of the time it became my weekly retreat.

I’ve done yoga when I’m not pregnant, but I particularly like doing it when I am pregnant (especially seeing as exercise options become limited, and it is one practice that is safe and very beneficial). Over two pregnancies I have done two different pre-natal classes, two different mums and babes classes and a post-natal class. 

The thing I love about yoga is it focuses on health holistically, and it is as much about mental health as it is about physical health. As mums, whose worlds have completely changed, who make a thousand tiny decisions every day, and who are entirely responsible for the wellbeing of little people, our mental health is both vulnerable and vitally important.

Physically it has great benefits too (we all know yoga is good for us, right?) You could probably do any yoga class and the instructor would modify the poses for you but I would recommend doing a pregnancy specific class. That way you get to learn techniques to deal with all those niggling pregnancy symptoms (like how to prevent night time leg cramps and what to do if you wake up in the night with a searing cramp in your calf. And no, the answer is not to punch your calf over and over until it goes away…) And even if you don’t have any niggling pregnancy symptoms, pregnancy changes everything about every part of your body and with the right instructor you can learn so much about what is happening to your body, what to do and what to expect. Oh, and you’ll find yourself in a room full of pregnant women – the information and connections you can gain from this is invaluable (but don’t go to make friends as you might be disappointed…)

Now, let's talk about pelvic floor. You know the poor muscles that get stretched and pulled and damaged in pregnancy and birth? If you've given birth in an Australian public hospital recently you'll know they offer you a session with the physio who teaches you to isolate those muscles and pull them 'in and up'. It's a half hour session, and then you’re on your own with only the daily exercises prescribed to you and a black and white hand out with instructions. And these exercises are BORING. They are the epitome of boring. They are so easy to forget or not do properly. But they are so important. Enter pre/post-natal yoga. The instructor will talk you through a pelvic floor segment and teach you that there are actually many ways to strengthen your pelvic floor and many exercises you can do. And if you're lacking motivation to do them, at least you'll know that once a week in your yoga class your pelvic floor will get a good work out (I am not endorsing only doing pelvic floor exercises once a week, you should do them daily like the hospital tells you to, I’m just saying that if you don’t at least you know that you will at your yoga class.) These pelvic floor exercises are important before and after birth, which is one of the reasons I am currently doing post-natal yoga rather than a normal yoga class.

When my firstborn was a few months old we started mums and babes yoga. And I thought it was the best thing ever. At this stage I was absolutely attached to my firstborn, I didn’t want or need space from her, I saw it as a lovely thing that we could do together. She would lie on the floor and look up at me with big eyes, she looked very happy and interested, so I felt it was lovely for her too. We continued doing yoga together until she started crawling, when it got too hard to keep her in one spot.

Last week I went to a mums and babes yoga class, with my second baby, but I felt completely differently. Yes, it was a lovely thing to do with her (and we did baby massage and some movement just for her), but right now my entire life is about doing lovely things for my baby and toddler. It is always about them. Yoga is the one thing, the one hour every week, that is not about my little people. Yoga is about me. And I find we do a lot more actual yoga in a yoga class than in a mums and babes yoga class where I need to break to feed my daughter, settle her etc. So this time around I’m not continuing with the mums and babes class, instead I’m doing the post-natal class on a Saturday morning.

What surprised me though is how differently I feel about mums and babes yoga between my first and second child. I’m sure this is a second time mum thing, a symptom of caring for children around the clock and having been doing so for nearly two years now. I have a need for my own personal space and for me time that I didn’t have when my firstborn was small. Motherhood has seasons, and this showed me that I am in a very different season the second time around. 

So, where do I go to do this yoga that I’m harping on about?

Here I'd like to shout out to two of my favourite yoga places, Blissful Bellies in Durban and Kula Yoga in Melbourne. I've done pre and post-natal and mums and babes yoga at both. Both are so different but each was my favourite time of the week.

The first one is Isabel at Blissful Bellies in Durban, South Africa. She runs this yoga from the garage of her home. Her classes are small and intimate, she knows each of her students and their children. Her classes are casual – there’s always time for a chat before class and there’s a WhatsApp group for everyone to communicate throughout the week. As well as being an awesome practice it also became a little pregnant community for me – women I could message throughout the week to chat about all things pregnancy. It was lovely to regularly be in a room full of pregnant women and share what was going on for us. And it was even more lovely to see the birth announcements rolling in on the WhatsApp group as the months passed.

In Australia, I’ve been going to Kula Yoga in Hawthorn East and though it feels completely different I love it there too! The pre and post-natal classes are taught by Andi and Steph who have clearly been trained in this area and you get a lot of information about changes in your body and different poses that can help. And Steph and Andi say lovely things to help you visualise and connect with your baby, reminding you to acknowledge the divine feminine, the natural mother inside you. I leave the studio, feeling great physically and also with a sense of calm. The main downfall of the Kula class is that it is only on once a week, which means that if you miss it, it's two weeks between classes.

So, did yoga help me with birth?

I thought yoga might help me with birth. In pre-natal yoga we talk a lot about positions for labour, hip openers and breathing through discomfort. I thought it was great preparation for birth. But I’m going to be honest and say I don’t think it helped me in the delivery room. Birth is such an overwhelming experience (you can read Zara’s birth story here) that I forgot everything I knew and had practiced and the pain was so intense that nothing could ease it. But it did help me feel confident in the lead up to the birth and in my body’s ability to give birth. And I do believe that if my doula (who is also a yoga teacher) had made it to our birth she may have been able to guide me through some breathing and positions to help.

It is recommended that women wait six weeks after delivery before they return to exercise. Luckily yoga is one of the first exercises that you can return to. I really missed my weekly practice in those six weeks. But now I’m back on the mat. And the best thing about starting yoga again postpartum is that all of the sudden all the poses and sequences are so much easier and you can do them without dragging your huge, heavy, pregnant body from one position to another and feeling like your squashed lungs just can’t get enough air to move. Ah, the bliss of being able to move again!

Life is busy and it’s hard to find time for myself with two kids. So don’t invite me anywhere on a Saturday morning. You’ll find me on my mat. 

Becoming a mother of two. Pregnancy the second time around.

To be pregnant is to carry creation inside you. To realise that your body is not completely yours. It is to surrender to the mystery. To surrender your own control. No one can control if and when they become pregnant, you have no say over whether you carry a boy or a girl, you do not know for sure that your baby will be healthy, you do not choose what type of pregnancy you have – whether you glow and breeze through it or whether you struggle through every pregnancy symptom in the book, you rarely choose your birth. And once the baby is conceived inside you there is nothing you do to grow him or her, as you sleep little arms and legs sprout, tiny fingers and toes, skin and ears and lungs. It truly is life’s greatest miracle.

Pregnancy is very much a season of preparation, of waiting, of looking to the future, of letting go of the past. For your first pregnancy it is about you becoming a new person – becoming a mother. It is starting on a journey that is long and unknown, the only known thing is that you must commit to it, commit to the journey for the rest of your life.

And as I carry my second child I realise that even though I am already a mum, this pregnancy and baby is no less significant than my first and this little one will change our lives just as dramatically. And yet, despite this realisation I have felt that I have had so much less time and so much less focus for this second child of mine. Everyone says the second pregnancy is different. And it certainly feels different to me, (and I’m not just referring to how much earlier and faster my belly started to grow…).

My first pregnancy was a beautiful time. I was able to change my entire life so that I could focus on the baby that was coming. I wrote letters to my unborn baby (one which you can read here), I got acupuncture to prepare for the birth, I did prenatal yoga, I read and read and read about pregnancy and birth and newborns, I bought a pram and a cot and room décor, I wrote birth affirmations and drank birthing tea, my husband and I attended birthing class together, we met with our doula, we went on a babymoon, we did a pregnancy photo shoot, we had a gender reveal party and a baby shower, I sorted through piles of gorgeous newborn clothes that were given to us, I journalled so I wouldn’t forget how it felt to carry a life inside me. And all of these things were important to me because they acknowledged and celebrated the huge change that was about to happen and they prepared me for the journey ahead.

This time, I have actively tried to recreate that focus and calm that I had but it just hasn’t worked. Now I am more likely to read a book about toddler behaviour than about birth or breastfeeding. My first born is still the one that takes us through uncharted waters. I feel, that compared to my first, I have put very little time into preparing for this one. Yet she is just as significant, just as loved. So much of the preparation is not about the baby, but about me. Though it seems strange, painting a chest of drawers is mental preparation for the sleepless nights. This is the reason that when I made my daughter a santa sack for Christmas I felt I had to make two. My mum said, ‘I don’t really understand what the rush on the second one is…’ But it is about my mind moving from being a mother of one to a mother of two. It is about giving my second everything I have given my first.

But, though I would love to repeat everything I did for my first, I know that being pregnant with my second is simply different. It’s different for me and everyone else. It was different right from when I first told people I was pregnant. Because they have celebrated this before. Because they think I already know everything and already have everything. Because this time I already have a child to chase after. Being pregnant for the second time means getting a pregnancy massage and then crawling on the floor to pick up food my one year has thrown on the ground. It is trying to remember to tell my husband when our baby is moving so that he can feel her. It is loving the magic of carrying a baby inside me and not wanting it to end too soon.

Two weeks before my first daughter was born I went on maternity leave from work. It marked the end of something and the beginning of something new. It was significant and celebrated. It transitioned me to a time of waiting, it gave me time and permission to rest, to focus on me, to nest, to get ready. But when you are a stay at home mum there is no maternity leave, there's no break before the baby arrives, one season doesn't end before the next one starts. The world seems to think you will seamlessly transition. 

With this pregnancy I have noticed just how much of what is written about pregnancy, birth and newborns is tailored towards first time mums. Photos in baby magazines are always of a mother and one baby. Always. Magazines and books are full of advice like ‘get as much rest as you can before the baby comes,’ and ‘sleep when the baby sleeps', information about what to expect for a first time labour and birth. Perhaps by now we are simply supposed to know it all.

People have told me the second baby is easier, because you know what to expect. And yet, for me, it still feels just as unknown. The unknowns are two fold. Firstly, the baby and birth are just as unknown because they say every baby is different. But secondly, I wonder how the way I mother my daughter will change and how it has to. How will it be possible to sit and snuggle my toddler to sleep when I have a newborn? How will I entertain my toddler when my newborn needs cuddles and feeding on the couch?

I recently was reminiscing with a friend about my first birth, about how I had a birthing candle and so many evenings alone with my husband to prepare, how calm and lovely it was when I bought my first home from the hospital, how I could fully embrace the long days and nights of breastfeeding. And my friend said, ‘you have to let the first one go. This one wont be the same, but it will be beautiful in a different way.’ And it already is beautiful in a different way. Like when my one year old points to my belly and says ‘baby’. In some ways it has been easier because I have known what to expect, how to get through the awful days of sickness, and there’s been less preparation because I don’t need to spend as much time researching baby carriers. And in some ways it has been harder because the world didn’t stop this time when I got pregnant, because I have a one year old to look after and because, as I race towards the finish line, I'm reminded of what a big deal welcoming a child is, whether that be your first, your second or your fifth. 

How to Survive Pregnancy Sickness

Last time I was pregnant I said to my husband (multiple times I believe), ‘don’t let me remember how sick I am, or I’ll never do this again’. In July this year I was alone at a restaurant on a Friday night, catching up on work, when all of a sudden I felt sick, I rushed to get the bill and just made it home in time to start vomiting. When I wasn’t feeling better two days later I took a test and sure enough, two pink lines appeared. Pregnant.

Unfortunately I am one of those people who suffers from completely debilitating and unrelenting sickness when I’m pregnant. When I tell people I’m expecting they normally act like I’ve won the lottery. And I feel like I’m trapped on a rocking boat, seasick for months. Last time I was worried because I felt the sickness was stopping me bond with my baby, but this time, I know, the bonding will come. Once the nausea lifts, and my belly grows, and my baby starts moving, and we find out the gender, and we give him or her a name. It will happen. I know.

Before I had experienced this I might have thought the joy of carrying a life inside me would help me overcome the sickness. That I would be sick, but so blissfully happy, that the sickness would be insignificant. Yet nothing could be further from the truth. 

In my experience, pregnancy sickness is misunderstood, not taken seriously, and it goes on and on and on. The length of time is probably what I find hardest to cope with. With my last pregnancy whole seasons passed.

I don’t need advice from people. Three pregnancies in and I’ve tried it all – from acupuncture to ginger tea. The only thing that stopped the vomiting for me is medication. While I would love to take a natural approach to pregnancy, I am extremely grateful that I live in a time and place where medication is available. I resisted so much in my last pregnancy. I put off taking it for as long as possible and took a very low dose. But there’s no medal at the end for doing pregnancy drug free. And there are a lot of things to consider. Taking the medication means I can be a better mum to my toddler, it means I’m less likely to get depressed from months and months of sickness, it means I can get out of bed. Sometimes we have to make trade offs and choose what is least bad.

But there is no magic fix. Sometimes I take the medication and I still feel awful. It always wears off by the afternoon. Evenings, nights and mornings are the worst for me. I can’t cook, and don’t know what to eat.

With each pregnancy I believe I have got better at managing the sickness. The first time it hit me it was such a shock, I had no plan in place, I tried to continue with normal life, I found myself vomiting in bins and public toilets. But I tried to be a hero, I believed I could push through, I made excuses and tried to hide it, I believed we shouldn’t tell people I was pregnant till 12 weeks. It was the worst time of my life. Even though we lost that pregnancy, not telling people did me no favours. It meant I was unsupported and alone, through both a difficult pregnancy and a heart breaking loss.

With my next two pregnancies we’ve shared it earlier with family and friends, we’ve told people that I’m sick, I’ve explained to people what this sickness means (no, I can’t just meet you at the coffee shop, I can’t just pop in and buy milk from the garage, I can’t get a meal out of the freezer…), and I’ve had a lot more support.

This is where I need to give a public shout out to my mum, who rearranged her entire life to spend 5 weeks looking after me and my daughter in South Africa. There are many special people in my life, but none who will bend over backwards for me in the way my mum does. I’m 30, but time hasn’t changed this. If I need her, she makes a plan to be there. And when she left, members of our church cooked meals for us. These were such an incredible lifesaver. This support, and not trying to continue life as normal, has made this pregnancy my most positive one yet.

But, though I am grateful for so much support, it is a lonely journey. No one can do these hard days for me. And while, it takes a village to raise a child, it can only ever take one woman to carry one.

I know I have a lot to be thankful for. And I know it will be worth it. But in the moment it is hard. And night after night as I lie on the couch feeling so sick, I tell my husband that I don’t think I can do this. To be sick for such a long time can be overwhelming and depressing. So, to pick me up, he took a week off work and took me to a beach house. It was exactly what I needed. And I am hopeful that the worst is behind me and that the clouds will lift soon. And until they do, each night I tell myself that I can get through tomorrow. And then the next day. And I’ll make it to the end like that. One. Day. At. A. Time.

If you are pregnant and experiencing something similar, here are my tips to you (based on what helped me):

• Take the medication (Zofran). Don’t feel guilty, it doesn't make you a bad mum.
• Don’t feel down because your friend / sister / everyone else seemed to breeze through pregnancy and you can’t get out of bed. Everyone experiences pregnancy symptoms differently, some people have almost no nausea, others end up in hospital. It’s not a reflection on you, or your strength.
• Tell people close to you that you are pregnant and sick. Explain what the sickness means. Most people don’t understand it and have no idea.
• Stay away from things that are ‘triggers’ for you. For me it’s supermarkets, malls, garages, cafes, the kitchen, the fridge / freezer, food cooking, the car etc.
• Be proactive in making life as easy as you can. For example we have ordered frozen meals for this time so no one has to cook in our house. If friends and family can help you out that's great, but it is also ok to get paid help. We've temporarily got someone cleaning our house because, though our house is small, I often struggle to get dressed.
• Know that it will pass, that in the scheme of your whole life it is a short period of time, and that once it is over you will have a special child in your life to love forever. They will be beautiful and smiley and cuddly and fun. And, without doubt, worth everything we go through for them.

Before She Was Born

My darling girl,

You’re 22 weeks now and growing everyday. I often feel you dancing inside me and that gives me so much joy. It’s like you’re just saying hello, reminding me you are there. You’ve kicked daddy a few times too and he loves it, his face lights up with love. You are extremely active and very healthy. We saw you on the scan and saw how beautifully and wonderfully made you are. You are still small, probably the size of an eggplant but already you are perfectly formed with facial features and 10 fingers and 10 toes.

We so much want to meet you, to see your cute little face and hold your soft skin. I always imagine you as our daughter, growing up kind and strong. I can see you taking your first steps, reaching up to hold my hand. I can see you riding high on daddy’s shoulders. Your daddy and I love you so so much, and we will love you all the days of our lives. When you arrive you’ll know my smell and my heartbeat – you’re the only one who has heard it from the inside. And you will know daddy’s voice because he has been reading to you, at night as we get into bed.

God has placed you in a beautiful world and a loving home and family. He has created you as a gift for us, our special treasure. It amazes me how He made you – the absolute miracle of creation. You were created by God but out of a love that is so warm and so close. I promise that as you grow we will show you this love, create a home for you that is warm and safe and protect you and guide you and never give up on you. We’ll teach you and help you and hold you when you cry. And we will pray for you, as we’ve been doing since before you were conceived. We prayed for your protection, when you were smaller than a grain of sand and so fragile and vulnerable. And God answered because now you are healthy and strong.

My darling, you are only beginning the long journey of life – it is a wonderful journey. What a joy it is that you are about to become part of our journey. Little treasure, we love you.

On Finding Out the Gender

I always thought I wanted a surprise. There’s not many surprises in life and I thought this had to be one of the best. That was until I lost my first precious child without knowing if it was a girl or a boy. I was never able to grieve for a daughter, or a son; never able to picture him or her. I then decided that with the next one, I would find out the gender as soon as I could and give him or her a name.

Some people assume that we found out for the shopping, clothes or the gifts. But for me it was about bonding with and imagining her. After we found out I started to dream about her. And when she was born I discovered she looked exactly like the girl in my dreams.

Knowing helped me prepare to be a mother to a girl. It helped me feel my daughter had an identity and it made me even more excited to meet her.

Finding out felt significant and I didn’t want to do it in the doctor’s room. So I asked the sonographer to phone one of my close friends and tell her. I then invited a small group of friends and family around for dinner. My trusted friend bought a few helium balloons and hid them in a box. My husband and I opened the box and out flew pink balloons! She was only 20 weeks, but already a tiny person. This celebration was important to me – I felt it acknowledged her tiny little life, not who she would be, but who she already was.