Hope
is a concept so hard to understand. You can’t see it or touch it. You can only
feel it. Deep down somewhere, in your heart or your gut; in your soul. Many
people choose to ignore it, thinking it a pointless feeling. For some, hope is
all they have.
For
me, right now, I am clinging to hope. I am pregnant. For the sixth time. I
can’t say it was unplanned, but it certainly happened sooner than we had
planned for (I guess condoms work better if you use them).
I’m
really scared. I have suffered many losses, the most recent still bringing me
to tears when I think of our baby Nate. I couldn’t have lived with that “what
if” feeling though, if we hadn’t tried just one more time.
So
here I am, livin’ on a prayer (Oh Jon Bon, your words got me through high
school and beyond).
I am
turning to yoga to help me get through this. My relationship with yoga has been
sketchy at best these past few months. But I know she’ll always take me back
with open arms. I need only sit on my mat before I start to feel its healing
powers.
I’ve
had to start slow, going back to level 1 or 1-2 classes that had become unchallenging
for me. I don’t want to push anything being pregnant, so I’m already doing
prenatal classes. Though the movements make my body feel good, I am really
doing it for my mental health. While on my mat, I can look at myself and my
life and know that I am doing everything I can to make this pregnancy work.
Nothing I do will cause adverse circumstances.
This
has helped me to remain fairly calm, early as I am into this pregnancy. I
cannot look ahead and plan for another baby yet. But I can take comfort knowing
there is another little soul growing inside of me and, if only for a little
while, I have a baby.
I
hope that things will work out the way I want them to. Yoga helps me to
understand that they will work out just the way they should.
