This post originally appeared on our old blog Born to be a Bride.
I promised I wouldn’t make this wedding blog about babies, and I really, really swear I am not going to (anytime soon!).
But I did tell you I was going to pepper in a little bit about the wee one in the months to come, before we transition into a bigger site that allows Baby G his or her own space. All of that aside, this post isn’t so much about babies but more about a woman’s intuition and why it matters. Right now, you might be applying that inner voice to deciding whether the relationship you’re currently in is the one you want to be in forever, or using it to scope out the venue, theme, and photographer that are best for your wedding. Or, like me, it hits you out of nowhere and changes your life forever.
The truth is, I knew I was pregnant before I knew I was pregnant. Josh and I had been absentmindedly “trying” during the fall, but my health complications made the doctors worry that it would take a while, if even it was ever to happen. Post-surgery, we gave it one more go on a trip in Manhattan, then thought, let’s just stop pressuring ourselves, enjoy the summer, and see where this journey takes us later in the year.
Two weeks later I was at the completion of a particularly challenging yoga practice when my cranky body started to settle into the final resting pose, savasana. This is a time when the instructor usually asks us to call to mind our “intention” from the beginning of practice. Ever the perfectionist, I usually dedicate my practice to something that is going to benefit my body, make me stronger, or burn more calories. For me, it’s typically one word — “abs,” “strength,” “burn;” but sometimes when I’m feeling stressed or need to reel my mind back in, too, it’s “be present.”
On this particular day, I hadn’t set one at all, and in this particular moment, the instructor didn’t ask us to recall it. Instead, she suggested that we each call to mind someone or something that could use a little extra love from us. Without my control, my mind immediately whispered to me, “…the baby.” At which point the cynic in me who was sick of peeing on ovulation sticks and timing sex with her husband retorted grumpily, “there is. no. baby.” But during that entire savasana, the whisper of the baby remained.
Being the least new-agey person you’ll ever meet, who rocks out to hardcore rap or twangy country music on the drive home from yoga every night, I clearly did not reveal my bizarre experience to Josh that night. But a week later, I was geared up to attend happy hour with a gaggle of girls and I took a pregnancy test for the 2% chance that my excessive drinking would be harming a human life that night. It was positive. Inner cynic silenced. Weird yogic experience revealed to husband.
These days, I’ve learned the value in being kind to my body, and in listening to what my mind really wants me to hear and to know. I’m sure that when the little bugger comes out and I’ve got weight to lose, I’ll go back to some of those “abs” or “burn” intentions. But now, every day at yoga when I lift hands to heart and set an intention for the practice, the new choice is clear — “the baby.”
For the baby, while still inside, has become the intention of everything — not just yoga.