“The Mommies”

On Wednesday nights, G and I go to yoga class. We try to make it three times a week, and Wednesday nights just work out well for some reason. Plus the instructor is pretty consistent, we know we’ll get a good work out plus a lot of stretching, not too hard and not too easy. We started going to yoga classes a little over a year ago, and I’m pretty impressed with myself that I’ve kept it up this long. Don’t get me wrong, I’m terrible at it. I’ve only improved very marginally over the last year, and I’m still the worst one in every class we go to (it doesn’t help that I’ve had a series of injuries that I have to work around). The only other kind of exercise I’ve done consistently for a year or more is walking, which is only because you can do it pretty much anywhere and it’s easy enough that I don’t try to come up with excuses to get out of it. Yoga has been like that too, it’s tough during the class, but then you end by laying flat on the ground practically passed out for 5 minutes, so you can’t help but leave with a positive feeling about the whole experience.

It just so happens that right before our beginner yoga class on Wednesday nights is a prenatal yoga class. We’ve known this for a while now, so we usually plan to leave at the last minute, and rush in after all bumps have cleared the room. Given all the other factors involved, it hasn’t been enough of a motivation to avoid this class. But, if we plan badly, or if there’s especially light traffic, we get there just in time for the slew of preggos to spill out of the studio.

Much worse than the pregnant chicks themselves though is the instructor. She doesn’t teach our class, I’ve only ever seen her teaching prenatal classes. She says things like, “great job mommies!”, and “you’re all such strong mommies”, and “don’t worry mommies, I’ll get everything picked up”. Now, infertility aside, I’m pretty sure I would not want to spend an hour listening to this woman. This instantly became a running joke between G and I. “oh goodie, we get to see all the special mommies today!” (to be read in the most high pitched snarky voice you can muster). “look at all the special mommies, in their special mommy outfits, doing their special mommy yoga!”. Thank god G comes with me to this class, if I couldn’t mock them beforehand I don’t think I’d manage to get inside.

Seriously though,  I wonder if I could actually ever take a class like this if I somehow end up miraculously pregnant some day. The annoying instructor aside, I always figured I’d be in the prenatal yoga class eventually. In fact, the first time I ever did yoga was during my first pregnancy. I was feeling so horrifically sick I couldn’t seem to do any regular exercise, so I borrowed a prenatal yoga video from the library to see if it might be a good alternative. I only managed to get through the video twice before I wasn’t pregnant anymore and didn’t have any need for prenatal yoga. I’ve hidden two pregnancies since we started going to our current studio. I couldn’t possibly come out and tell the class I’m pregnant like everyone else seems to do (at six weeks??) because I knew I probably wouldn’t be pregnant for much longer.

If I was magically 4 months pregnant tomorrow, I don’t know that I could go to prenatal yoga classes, and make baby registries, and do all the normal things you’re supposed to do. As much as I’ve been dying to be admitted to the club and finally get to do these things, I’ve built up so much hostility and put up so many walls against anything and everything pregnancy related. I march past the baby section in Target with my head staring straight down at my shoes, and I immediately scroll past ‘maternity photo session ideas’ and ‘what to pack in your hospital bag’ posts on pinterest, as if I might get burned if I peek. I’ve made these things completely off limits to myself, I can’t even start to think about them or I’ll crack. How could I suddenly  be expected to love these things if I got pregnant? I would feel like I was some sort of imposter, or a traitor.

I’m sure part of the answer is that it happens gradually, as you start to trust that the pregnancy is real. The anxiety might pass, but the feeling of being an imposter who doesn’t belong in the club, or a traitor to the version of myself that I am now probably won’t pass easily. I’m not sure I want them to. Ultimately, it probably doesn’t matter because I probably won’t ever be in a position to find out. I can play the games in my head, pretend that one day I’ll make it to the other side, but I don’t really beleive I’ll ever by one of ‘the mommies’.

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13 thoughts on ““The Mommies”

  1. I completely understand your thoughts on not knowing how you would make the transition from part of the RM/IF group to the mommies. You’ve raised a lot of issues I’ve been pondering for a while. Very inspiring.

  2. Oh hon, I really feel for you. I can relate to your feelings 100%. It’s so hard to be positive when we keep getting knocked down every time. Like we are imposters. I doubt I’ll ever be confident in a pregnancy ever, if it ever happens again. So tough. Thinking of you xx

  3. I went to a prenatal yoga class when I was about 6 weeks along in my first pregnancy (Mr. MLACS had excitedly purchased sessions for me for Valentines Day). The instructor rolled her eyes at me for being there so early in my pregnancy, because it was hardly what I would call “yoga”–more like stretches and meditation for the physically disabled!
    Anyhow, when I lost my pregnancy I felt like a complete reject for even going to prenatal yoga in the first place. So, if I (fingers crossed) have the occasion to do any prenatal yoga, it will most likely be a dvd. I’m with you–I feel like such a “wanna be” that I don’t think I could participate in a group. XO sweets

  4. You are so insightful! Please write a book. Or contribute to my book (I don’t think I’ve ever mentioned it, but I’m planning on writing a compilation of stories of recurrent loss, because I could never find one when I needed one the most). 🙂

    That prenatal yoga teacher sounds nauseating.

    And, those feelings of anger, disdain, bitterness, etc. towards all things pregnancy related are normal. A lot of it still pisses me off and I’m right in the middle of it.

    Also, you don’t want to be one of “those mommies”. You’ll be a way more awesome mommy. 🙂

    • You are the sweetest! Thank you so much for all your comments, you really made my afternoon reading through them :). I think you should definitely write a book about recurrent loss, and I would love to contribute. We definitely need something, there are no books out there at all. It seems like infertility has been in the news a lot lately (they did a segment on IVF on the today show a few days ago), but you never hear about miscarriage, let alone recurrent miscarriage.

  5. Wow, I couldn’t have written this better myself. Suffering a loss definitely takes the joy out of things I once thought I would really enjoy.

    I remember having similar thoughts about my wedding when my husband finally popped the question – I was so anti-everything wedding related that I didn’t even have a bachelorette party or a shower because I had spent so much time mocking other women for theirs. And now I’m anti-‘mommie.’ As you said, if it ever happens I don’t want to be “a traitor to the version of yourself that I am now.”

  6. Pingback: What do I really beleive? | Recurrently Lost

  7. I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately – if I ever actually make it to the other side (though it’s not much of a worry – I can’t imagine it actually happening), am I suddenly going to join the “mom club”. I can’t imagine that I would enjoy standing around other women complaining about not getting enough sleep at night. It would feel like betrayal to my old self. Even mother’s day, I can’t imagine myself wanting to celebrate the day. I would sure as hell deserve to celebrate, but how can I celebrate a day that caused me and so many other women so much pain? I don’t know. It sucks. Hopefully I’ll be able to enjoy all of the things if the time ever does come, but for now I’m still trying to figure out how to not hate every fertile person around me lol.

  8. Pingback: Day 2 of Knowing | Preparing for a B-Squirt

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