How my practice evolved throughout my pregnancy(and yours will, too.)

It seems like your body changes slowly and then all at once.

When I found out I was pregnant, I was in the final few months of my 300-hour Advanced Teacher Training. It was the shock of my life. In the first trimester, everything feels so big EXCEPT your baby growing inside you. There were a million big questions, big feelings, and so much uncertainty for something that was so certain. I was going to have a baby— and I was going to carry him in my womb for nine months.

The internet gives you an encyclopedia of things you can’t do and then your doctor—when you finally get an appointment to confirm your pregnancy—gives you a few more. Hot yoga was one of those things. As a seasoned instructor who has practiced and taught in the heat for years, I continued to show up for myself and my students.

Not to brag, but I was very lucky in the first trimester. I had a good amount of energy and was feeling good most of the time. The worst symptoms I experienced were a face full of acne and extreme bloating. I was not comfortable with gym workouts anymore but maintained my yoga practice: taking breaks for rest and water and truly honoring my body in studio classes. I was unreasonably anxious that cardio was going to cause me to miscarry. As for my practice—as you might imagine—belly down backbends were the first to become uncomfortable. Pro tip: have two blocks or bolsters with you to create space for your belly if you want to continue these.

In the second trimester, I had more energy and less fear.

By that time, the world knew I was pregnant and had more concerns for me than I did for myself. We were told we were having a boy. I started feeling tiny flutters that finally validated my pregnancy in my brain. I phased cardio back in. I continued to do core work while it felt good. By this point, balancing postures became more of a challenge.

I faced the hard truth that there was an aspect of my yoga practice that was performative.

Off my mat, the flutters turned into flips and more defined movement that I couldn’t question. The changes in my body became more apparent. I could suddenly feel the sac keeping my son safe while in Wheel and then in Bridge pose. I continued to go for the bind in Utthita Parshvakonasa (extended side angle,) and into the balance challenge from there. Then one Saturday, I felt little boy kick in Birds of Paradise and immediately fell out of it. It had never crossed my mind that I would be able to feel my baby kick during a yoga class. Then it hit me:

Just because I can do these postures, doesn't mean I should.

The words I said to my then fiance, “nothing is just about you anymore,” echoed in my head. After this revelation, my hands instictively found my lower abdomen in shavasana or supta baddha konasana. I started to face insecurities as both a human and a yoga teacher. Should I go into this pose because it serves me or because I want the person next to me to know I can do it? Maybe it would be better if I tried a block here or grabbed a drink in a kneeling posture instead. I wasn’t just in the practice with myself anymore. I was already someone’s MOTHER and this body was designed to support us both. Yoga was designed to support us, too.

The wall became my friend. Blocks became an extension of myself. My feet inch wider and wider. Week by week— sometimes day by day— I’d become more aware in the physical limitations of my evolving body and I welcomed it. By the third trimester, seated twists are out, there is a beach ball blocking my path to my feet in forward folds. Each time I step onto my mat I’m greeted with a new change— and that’s ok.

Your practice will evolve throughout phases of your life.

Things adapt or they die. We are all so incredibly different. No one’s pregnancy is the same and you will never experience the same pregnancy twice. How you exercise or nourish your body is bound to change as you do. Your current habits have been picked up from a mosaic of people throughout your life. A yoga practice is the same piece of art. You pick up modifications and movements from different teachers or workshops or preferences based off your recovery from an injury.

Recognize when you need to s l o w d o w n.

Check in with why you are doing what you’re doing.

And continue to be in your body. Baby or not.