A little disclaimer: To the outward fertile observer I think I do pretty well dealing with pregnancy in general and the pregnancies of my friends and strangers, and I use this blog specifically to channel the issues I do have so they stay compartmentalized to some degree. Sure, sometimes I’m sad or jealous or irrationally angry, but generally the rage and angst I used to feel have abated, and for this I’m very grateful. It was exhausting to feel traumatized by the physical condition of others with little warning or control over my reaction. For those of you still experiencing this, I feel for you and I promise, it will get better with time, and a big hug to you. For me, these days pregnant women are sort of like republicans, there’s a gulf between our realities, but I recognize that they walk among us, and I’ll even have drinks with them – because who am I kidding, I’ll have drinks with anyone:)

Now that I’ve covered all of that, below is a letter I need to write to two women in my yoga class last night.

Dear Pink and Blue:

Excuse me, I didn’t realize this was a prenatal yoga class. Oh wait, it isn’t. I haven’t seen either of you here before, and I come to this class regularly and frequent other classes at this facility, which offers separate prenatal yoga classes, FWIW. Where did you come from? It’s obvious you are new to the practice, and I have nothing against newbies, but what are you doing in my non-beginner class that is not specifically for pregnant people? 

Your names are a tribute to the colors of your tank tops. May I surmise that they correspond to the gender of your unbirthed spawn?  I think it’s really wacko that you wore matching workout clothes in different colors. Did you buy them together? Does one of you own both and rent out the other to pregnant women in yoga classes like some sort of uniform? Even the cutouts on the back of the tops were the same, leading me to believe they are the same brand and style, differing only in color. If they might be some sort of maternity exercise top that could have been on sale or something I might give you a pass (I hear my fertile friends bemoan their lack of selection), but they aren’t….because they don’t fit.

 Oh look, we match! We’re all wearing tank tops and yoga pants! But, it appears that we must have accidentally switched wardrobes because my tank was longish and went past my hips, as is the current style sold everywhere, while your shirts stopped about 4 inches above your pants, or possibly the pants were an inch or two too short and the shirts were only two inches too short, but let’s just call it TOO FUCKING SHORT no matter the math. Since I have a really short torso (I’m 5’3″ and petite pants are all capris, shopping is a nightmare) I might be extra aware of the trend for regular shirts (not to mention maternity tops) to be long these days, which leads me to believe you had to go out of your way to find tank tops that exposed your 5 month pregnant bellies. A belly is a belly, even a pregnant belly is still your stomach, and it isn’t appropriate to be walking around with it hanging out. Cover it up!

Also, I realize that everyone is a beginner at some point, and I was once new to yoga. I don’t mind slower classes to accommodate beginners. I even realize instructors need to discuss modifications throughout the class for lots of reasons including pregnancy, as long as the instructor doesn’t specifically single me out and ask me if I’m pregnantI’m willing to be civil and accommodating, but a pregnant beginner needs a lot of extra attention, adjustment, and modifications. That’s why there are special classes called, wait for it….PRENATAL YOGA.

Our class last night only covered about half of the poses we usually get to, skipping some of my very favorites-plow, pigeon, dancer’s pose, with a running commentary to, as the instructor liked to address you, “our glowing moms-to-be!”. She had to modify everything for you and correct you since you weren’t familiar with the original pose or the modification. Hell, I know more about prenatal yoga than you do. Oh, and for your future knowledge, when she asks you to rest on your left side, it’s your other left, Blue. The instructor shouldn’t have to come over and show you how to find your left side.

So, Glowing Moms To Be! I’m willing to be happy for you if you are a stranger, excited for you if you are my friend, and hopeful (against logic and scientific evidence to the contrary) that someday I too, after much heartache, sacrifice, and expense will join you, but Like Johnny said to Baby in Dirty Dancing, ” This is my dance space, and this is your dance space.” You stick to your yoga classes, and I’ll stick to mine, and we’ll all be a lot happier.

Thanks,

Barren

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