Tag Archives: Pregnancy

On My Mind

Expecting – Part I

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You were the size of a sesame seed when your papa and I first learned about you. We were in the Alps for some climbing and mountaineering, and all I could think about was you.

You were the size of a blueberry when we first saw your heart beating. And how fast! We were in awe.

You were the size of a strawberry when it was time for new bras. Finally, an easily managed symptom of my body shaping itself to house you.

You were the size of a fig when I saw your hands wave and feet kick. You turned around and around.

Your papa and I held hands in the waiting room when you were nearly the size of a lemon. Then, the doctor showed us your symmetrical brain, four-chambered heart, 10 fingers, 10 toes. Your feet crossed at the ankles and your hands covered your face. Through tears, we watched you move.

You were almost the size of an apple when it was time for maternity pants. I marvelled at my body’s ability to make space for you.

You were the size of a cucumber when my skin met skin in places that had never touched before. I grew out of my climbing harness and started wearing one designed for my changing body, announcing to everyone who didn’t already know that you were on the way.

When you were the size of a mango, your papa felt you move for the first time. We lay in the dark as I guided his hand, both of us basking in the astonishment of you.

Halfway through the journey of becoming, you were the size of a grapefruit. Your papa and I took some time away to be together, smiling all the while at you.

Madeira, Portugal – October 2025
On My Mind

New Body Yoga

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No bending over, no engaging the abs, no twisting.

No inversions, no backbends, no planks.

Welcome to prenatal yoga, where it’s all about space, lengthening, and breath.

In some twist of fate, the yoga teacher who comes to my school once a week is also certified in prenatal yoga, and she has been kind enough to modify our usual class for me. As this is a teacher who knows me and how my body is used to moving, I feel very safe in her hands.

I love yoga for many reasons and have been practicing regularly for over fifteen years. I love the way it has helped me get to know my body, what it has shown my body to do, and the way my breathing has changed as a result. That’s what yoga is, really; breathing, and letting the breath move the body.

As I’ve learned more about yoga as a practice and as I’ve become stronger and more experienced, I’ve recognized different purposes in yoga, and they have applied to different points of my life. I’ve done yoga for the purpose of getting stronger, for learning to breathe, for slowing down, for healing, and for learning to work with discomfort.

And now, I’m doing yoga to encourage the changes taking place in my body, to help it lengthen, open, and create space. As my belly grows, the pace of yoga postures slows down, the breathing practice deepens, and concentration shifts from breath to body and back to breath. Working on the breath is no longer a means to find the deepest core of myself, but also to welcome the being that is becoming.

“I know it’s boring,” my teacher said at the beginning. “But you’ll get bigger and you’ll see.”

Used to feeling my body move and stretch and knowing how to use the breath as a way to move the body, it was boring. And then I stopped focusing on what I couldn’t do any more and started focusing on the purpose: lengthen, open, create space, breathe.

Yoga was no longer boring.

Used to coming home feeling stretched and strong, a rubber band played with, twisted, pulled, I began coming home feeling relaxed, calmer, my hips and lower back able to move more fluidly. I’ve been tired at the end of the day in a way that I’ve never been tired before, and it was yoga that reminded me why.

Yoga is like meditation in the sense that we practice. It is a continuous doing without a done, without a stopping point, without a natural break. Yoga is a flow. It is about welcoming what is, where it is, how it is. And now, it is about welcoming what will be.

Lengthen. Open. Create space.

Breathe.

Ubud, Bali, Indonesia – February 2016
On My Mind

Decaf Coffee

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There is plenty to say about regular coffee, but what about decaf? Why say anything about decaf? It’s anti-coffee culture, not at all Italian, and exists in an unnatural form of something so wonderful that it needs no modification.

This was my perspective until I had a cup of decaf coffee last weekend, my first cup since finding out I was pregnant. I’m coming to the end of week fourteen now and I spent a good seven weeks not thinking about coffee at all. And then suddenly, I missed it.

I missed the ritual, the smell of grinding beans and pouring over hot water. I missed the first sips in the morning, a cup to be enjoyed slowly before my students arrived, or as an accompaniment to the calm of weekend morning rolls and jam. I missed the taste, the feel on my tongue, and I missed looking forward to all of it.

When my partner went out last Saturday morning to buy fresh rolls, I asked him to look for decaf coffee. He came back with a small pack and I delighted in first one, and then two, cups. He laughed at the grin on my face and rapture in my expression and said, “You know there’s still caffeine in it, right?” I do know that, and I wasn’t afraid of it. As it is, I’ve been starting the day with a cup of black tea.

For now, I’m saving the decaf coffee for the weekends, the quiet moments where I can savour it without interruption. Coffee will become part of our shared morning ritual again, and I am already enjoying the anticipation.