In the old days I could teach three 60 minute classes, one 60 minute camp choreography session with pre-teens, sit in a doctor’s waiting room forever, and then go to a 2 hour rehearsal. It would have felt like a lot, but now it feels mountainous (and by that I mean gigantic). I can barely walk when I get home and the next morning I get up and pretty much do the same thing (only it’s childcare instead of classes, defending my company member status for an hour to the a.d. instead of going to the doctor, but teaching the camp and the 2 hour rehearsal still stand). I do this for four days straight and then, on my day off I look around my home, start frantically cleaning, and host my awesome cousin for the next 24 hours.

My body now feels like it’s definitely housing something, and this something does not care for extended walking, seatbelts pressed against lower extremities when driving for miles, or casual food intake on the go. I walk up stairs and take notice like I’ve never before. I try to demonstrate a floor move during a choreography session and realize that my body weight balanced on one arm and one leg feels really heavy! I can hardly haul myself up of the floor. I was weighed during the doctor’s visit and my pounds remain modest–so far. But I’ve never operated in the world at this new weight.

Everywhere I go, people are taking notice. And older women, so far, seem to be the least helpful. Whether it’s my mother-in-law bemoaning how horrible each of her four births were (she was just never DESIGNED for childbirth), or it’s the mother-in-law of my employer telling me it looks like I’ll be having a big baby, (WTF?) none of these older mothers are helpful. Well, I take that back: my own mother has been very helpful. My older yoga teacher on Wednesdays has been kind. There are many, many, mothers who I’ve met and spoke with that treat me with the kind of care I need. And this week was so crazy, my mantra became: “I would do anything not to have to get up off this floor so I could take care of myself” but I still found myself standing up anyway, getting in my car, and driving to the next destination. I tell myself that it’s all just for now…after all, summer classes are over, I’m implementing changes, I’m slowing down whether I want to or not.

Folks say that the natural slowing down process of pregnancy gears you up for the limitations of having an infant. This is true. This must be true…it has to be true. So, I’m going to go lie down now…