Ommmm

Apparently birthing a baby (as opposed to delivering one, because that just sounds like I could stick Tricky in an express post bag and drop him in to the nearest post office) is a rather physical job that can require hours of strange positions leading to physical exhaustion. So what's a gal with no Glow and even less muscle tone to do? Prenatal Yoga, that's what!

I wasn't sure what to expect as I attended my very first yoga session ever with YogaSpace. Would there be incense and candles? Chanting and singing the praises of the glorious womb? Would all the other women be really experienced, getting their ankles behind their heads? And just how unattractive would I look in leggings?

The first of my fears were allayed when the instructor Janelle explained a few of the basic rules of the class:

1. if it hurts, stop
2. if you think its about to start hurting, stop
3. if you feel dizzy, stop
4. if you need to go to the toilet, go
5. if you need to keep some snacks beside you, do it
6. if you want some help, ask
7. if you need to throw up, see point 4

By a show of hands it was determined that only two participants had done any yoga before, so that meant that me and the fifteen other women in the class were in the same boat, namely, the S.S. Nofreakinclue. So we all felt as stupid and uncoordinated as each other and heaved a sigh of relief that we weren't 'the only one'.

The class focussed on lots of pelvic floor exercises combined with breath control. It was easier for those of us in the class that were in the first and second trimesters and therefore still had room in our chest cavities for lungs. The positions, whilst strange to a newbie like me weren't painful (even after standing up all day at work) or the least bit contortionist-like and I found myself actually enjoying it! I even rather liked being in a room full of pregnant bellies, all beautiful and round.

Namaste

After an hour and a half of saluting the sun and doing the downward dog (is it just me or do they sound a bit sexy?) it was time to finish, and what better way than a cup of camomile tea and TIM TAMS! Sure beats gluten-free, wheat-free, caffeine-free (read taste-free) lumps of crud that I was half expecting from a place that has a strict policy of no classes on a full or new moon.

I'm really glad I enjoyed it, not just because I paid upfront and have nine more sessions to go, but because its going to help me give birth. If it happens to tone up my massive bum a bit, then even better.