9 Weeks Pregnant: New Joys

August 17 – August 23: 9 Weeks 0 Days – 9 Weeks 6 Days.

Our first night in our new home, we ordered sushi for delivery. Pregnant women aren’t supposed to eat raw meat due to potential pathogens (not to mention that many fish are off the table due to environmental contaminants), but we were lucky to find a restaurant with a large selection of vegetarian rolls. Yum! A couple of the veggie rolls were packed next to the fish rolls Richard ordered, which could obviously allow for cross-contamination, but I opted not to worry about it. At some point the stress elicited by obsessively following all the guidelines perfectly must have just as many negative health consequences as being a little more lax about the rules.

I love doing yoga in a hot room, a love hot tubs, and people always make fun of me for wearing sweaters in the summer. Pregnant women aren’t supposed to do things that raise their body temperature, but my beloved piping hot baths have been an ongoing temptation. At our prenatal appointment this week, the doctor told Richard that elevated body temperature negatively affects the baby’s brain development, and ever since then he’s been strictly enforcing the rules. Our first full day in our house, we discovered that the pilot light for the water heater didn’t stay lit for longer than a few hours, which dissolved my fantasy of sneaking into a hot bath behind Richard’s back. (Update: We didn’t get the water heater fixed until I was 16 weeks pregnant, so I didn’t get a hot shower—let a alone bath—for a long time).

Now on my sixth week of relentless nausea, I began having some moments of despair. Before I got pregnant, I had tons of little joys in my day-to-day life. I used to take Foxy on walks up Bernal Hill, which has a fantastic 360 degree view, or for a long walk or run along Ocean Beach. Now I’m too fatigued. I used to love negitoro maki, exotic cheeses, oolong tea, and Philz Mint Mojito Iced Coffee. Now all of these are advised against (Update: later in pregnancy I discovered a Swiss Water Decaf Mint Mojito Iced Coffee). I even read the other day that chamomile and ginger tea, which I’ve been drinking all along, can be risky for pregnancy! I used to get a sugar fix from green tea cheese cake, brownie sundaes sundaes, and sour patch kids, but now dessert makes me nauseated. Even most yoga doesn’t feel good for me any more (I’ll post more on this in a few weeks).

Instead of wallowing in self-pity focusing on what I couldn’t do, I realized I had to shift my daily habits to include joys that I can still partake in:

  • Tea. Rooibos is my new go-to. I make a yummy roobios tea latte with maple syrup, vanilla, and skim milk (before pregnancy I drank nothing but almond milk, but cow’s milk has appealed to me more lately). And, tea is even better when enjoyed with friends I can share with!
  • Light, therapeutic exercise. I cleared some space for my mat and got my foam roller, pinky balls, therapy band, Mexican blanket, and bolster in a convenient location.
  • Yoga Nidra. Translating to “Yogic Sleep,” this practice is done lying completely still. Relax Into Greatness by Rod Stryker is my 35 minutes of bliss. This helps so much with the fatigue.
  • Artistic expression. I used to draw, paint, play musical instruments, and sing—skills I’ve let fall by the wayside. My sister bought me a watercolor kit for my birthday and I’ve been pleasantly surprised by how much free piano sheet music is available online these days, so I plan to incorporate these joys into my day-to-day life.
  • Connecting with the baby. Up until now it’s been hard to conceptualize the baby. On that first ultrasound, it was just a spec! This week, Richard and I went back in for my next appointment with the OB/GYN and we got an ultrasound that actually looked like something. Well, sort of. What it looked like was an apple fritter. But that’s at least it’s something I can visualize growing and developing inside of me. Also, unlike the first ultrasound I had, the baby’s healthy heartbeat was detectable! The other night, Richard kissed me goodnight then kissed my belly and said, “Goodnight, Fritter.
9-Week Ultrasound

Our little apple fritter at nine weeks.

Look at how much she developed by week 19!

5 Weeks Pregnant: Peeing on a Stick

July 20 – July 26: 5 Weeks 0 Days – 5 Weeks 6 Days

The Test

The first day after I got back from Wanderlust, I took a pregnancy test while my husband was at work. Tick-tock-tick-tock-tick-tock Pregnant! I did a legitimate double take and felt my eyes bulge. Then I smiled and laughed. I put the pregnancy test back on the bathroom counter where it had matured and paced around the apartment with my hands on my belly and a flurry of thoughts running through my head: Yay, I’m pregnant! Oh my God, I’m pregnant… How did this happen so quickly? How far along am I? How should I tell Richard? When am I allowed to tell other people? My dog, Foxy, diligently followed at my heels as I aimlessly ambled back and forth down the hallway.

Pregnant!

“Pregnant”!

The Announcement

I finally decided I would go to a baby clothing store, get a shirt that said “big sister,” and cut leg holes in it so Foxy could wear it. The first thing Richard does when gets home is greet the dog at the door, so it would be the first thing he saw.

Foxy and I walked up to Noe Valley in San Francisco, which is a hotspot for babies and dogs. It didn’t take us long to find a baby clothing boutique with a big sister shirt. The woman helping me asked me what size I needed. “Ummm,” I stalled guiltily, “Well, it’s actually for my dog.” She looked at me like I was nuts. “Okay, here’s what’s going on,” I admitted, “I just found out I’m pregnant and I want to tell my husband in a creative way, so I’m looking for a big sister shirt for my dog.” She was giddy that I’d let her in on the plan and proceeded to look through every single one of their used tops for me to try to find a cheaper used version of the shirt that I could justify cutting holes into. No luck. I almost bought the pricey brand new shirt, but I knew Richard would start obsessing about how we were going to pay for the baby’s college education as soon as he found out we were pregnant, so I decided to reformulate my plan.

When Richard came home Monday night, I had a couple homemade, hand-decorated cupcakes waiting for him with a sweet interactive picture book I found.

Daddies are for Catching Fireflies

Cupcakes and an interactive picture book I set out on the table to let Richard in on the joyous news

I was curled up on the couch reading when he got home, trying to hide my anticipation. When he saw the set up on the table, he asked, “What’s this? …Wait… What? Are you…” he met my smile, “Are you pregnant?”

“Yeah,” I admitted, sheepishly.

A little overwhelmed, he came and curled up beside me on the couch and we read “Daddies are For Catching Fireflies” together.

Once I got that positive test, my hint of nausea turned into overpowering nausea. I made the mistake of telling Richard that I suspected the nausea was at least partly psychosomatic, and he never let that go. Maybe it is just in my head, but I certainly don’t know how to turn it off!

The Appointment

It had been over eight weeks since my last period started. I didn’t think I was that far along, but I thought I’d better see—see—um, wait, who do you see when you’re pregnant? That was the first thing I had to figure out. Google told me to make an appointment with an OB/GYN. I found one that was close to our new house, had pretty good Yelp reviews, and happened to have an appointment available. In that moment, I was too overwhelmed to consider anything beyond those criteria for choosing someone to potentially deliver my baby. I just wanted someone with authority to tell me everything was going to be okay.

I didn’t have a full enough bladder to get a urine test at the beginning of the appointment to confirm my pregnancy. As such, the whole appointment was phrased in terms of “if you’re pregnant.” She told me that at my age, there was about a 15% rate of miscarriage. If we found a heart beat on the ultrasound, that risk would drop down to 3%. We didn’t find a heart beat on the ultrasound—it was too early. (Side note: If you’re going in for your first appointment, Google transvaginal ultrasound ahead of time to set your expectations. I did not even know this was a thing, and it caught me off guard). The doctor pointed to a tiny black dot on the screen and said, “If you’re pregnant, that’s the baby. If all goes well, we’ll see that spec grow over time.” Obviously the doctor needed to protect her liability, but the language of the appointment left me feeling detached.

After finally confirming I was actually pregnant via a urine test at the end of the appointment, she sent me home with some reading material. I read a small booklet about screening tests when I got home. All of the ones recommended for my age detected 50-90% of chromosomal abnormalities, and had the proviso “most women who test positive [for chromosomal abnormalities] give birth to healthy babies.” I couldn’t help but think that getting tested might not be worth the stress of getting a false positive. Richard and I would discuss more in the weeks to come. The other book was a manual on pregnancy and childbirth, and the longest chapter was about common discomforts of pregnancy. I got used to reading, “There are no safe medications to relieve X during pregnancy.” However, there were a ton of alternative suggestions for each discomfort, which turned out to be invaluable!

What do the Yoga Sutras say about asana?

Q: What do the Yoga Sutras say about asana (yoga poses)?

A: According to Putanjali’s Yoga Sutras, the highest stage of enlightenment is reached in seven stages, and asana (the practice of yoga poses) is the third stage. Putanjali describes asana in three sutras:

The posture should be steady, comfortable and grounded in joy. (2.46)

When I was younger my unconscious philosophy was something like, “exercise should be recklessly fast, numbingly intense, and fueled by anger.” Exercise worked as a great coping mechanism for me. When I roller-bladed as fast as a could, I was so focused on not falling that there wasn’t room to worry about anything else. The aching in my muscles during a long run superseded aching in my heart. Exercise was something I could channel uncomfortable emotions into instead of letting them eat away at me. It was also empowering to see my body getting strong and healthy. It was a great band-aid for a while, but eventually it stopped working.

In my early twenties, I was experiencing a deeper heartbreak than I’d felt before, and no matter how vigorously and desperately I exercised, I couldn’t block it out. Then, in the midst of my suffering I discovered vinyasa yoga, and it was transformational. Through the metaphor of asana (poses), my teachers taught me to be still and notice my emotions, even if I wanted nothing more than to resist them and block them out—steadiness. They taught me that whatever was going on in my head, it was okay to be feeling was I was feeling—comfortableness. Through time and practice, I learned that my worth was defined by more than getting having a boyfriend, getting into a challenging yoga pose, or even being strong and healthy; I found out I was more than all of those labels—joy.

Posture is mastered by relaxation of effort and meditation on the unlimited. (2.47)

I tell my students that practicing asana is practicing for life. If we are able to relax our gripping, gritting, or gnashing and maintain a meditative state during a challenging pose, we are more likely to connect to that mindfulness when someone cuts us off in traffic or when our hearts get broken. In San Francisco, I teach an intermediate vinyasa class in which we practice challenging postures that Putanjali (author of the Yoga Sutras), probably wouldn’t have dreamed recommending for meditation. I constantly remind students that it’s not about the pose itself; the pose is just a construct to test your ability to relax and be mindful. In this respect, sometimes the more advanced variation of a pose is the one that challenges your strength and flexibility; sometimes it’s the one that’s physically easier, but challenges you to let go of our ego.

When posture is mastered there is a cessation of disturbances caused by dualities. (2.48)

Our minds operate by identifying opposites. It’s built into our language and logic. We understand light because we can contrast it a lack of light (dark). We understand ourselves as entities different from our environment, different from others. Sometimes we even dissociate our own body, mind, and spirit. These aren’t bad things, we need them to survive. But, they create an illusion of separation which can be a source of deep suffering.

I’ve already mentioned that through my personal asana practice lines between things I thought were separate began to blur: as I learned to practice with physical grace, I began to cope with my emotions more gracefully too. As I relaxed in the face of intensity on the mat, I was more able to handle stress and conflict off the mat. As my practice of mindfulness developed, I began to notice my profound effect on my environment, and my environment’s fundamental effect on me. The labels that used to define me and set me apart from others started to drop off. I began to think that maybe my sense of self was more of a pragmatic, survival-based construct that a metaphysical (real) one. As the edges of my identity began to dissipate, I considered that maybe there is something that has no opposite. Something that is everything. Something unlimited that connects us all; that is us all.

Sometimes we strive so hard for perfection that we forget that imperfection is happiness. – Karen Nave

On a lovely weekend getaway to the peaceful ocean-side Carmel, California, my personal photographer (i.e. my husband, Richard) was snapping some shots of me doing some poses on the rocks along the beach. There must have been a airedale terrier meetup group at the beach that day, because there were fifteen or twenty of them nearby playing with each other, digging up sand, and retrieving balls from the water. Being in front of a camera brings out my inner perfectionist as I wrack my sensations to find my alignment and relax my face into a photogenic hint-of-a-smile. Just as I’d found one of my picture-perfect positions, one of the terriers jumped up onto the rocks to interrupt my posing and give me a moment of real yoga:

Sometimes we strive so hard for perfection that we forget that imperfection is happiness. - Karen Nave

Sometimes we strive so hard for perfection that we forget that imperfection is happiness. – Karen Nave

This focus on perfecting the physical aspects of the poses can also take over our practice on the mat. But the real yoga is not the shape the body takes, or the precise alignment, or the even serene facial expression. The yoga is the sukkha, the joy, the svadyaya, the self-study, the dharana and dhyana, the concentration and meditation. None of these come from a focus perfection—they come from cultivating acceptance. They come from a willingness to be who you are, where you are, what you are. Don’t get so caught up practicing the poses that you forget to practice the yoga.

Your Joy is Your Sorrow Unmasked – Kahlil Gibran

Your joy is your sorrow unmasked

Your joy is your sorrow unmasked. And the selfsame well from which your laughter rises was oftentimes filled with your tears. And how else can it be? The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain.

The first time I read this passage from The Prophet by Kahlil Gibran I was seventeen. It was it was translated into French as part of a high school exam and I was prompted to write my thoughts on the passage. Here’s what I wrote (translated from French):

The text says “your joy is your sadness unmasked,” meaning the two are fundamentally the same sentiment. They come from the same place in the heart. We feel joy when we react positively to this base emotion, and sadness when we react negatively.

The more sadness we have suffered, the more joy we are capable of feeling. We must experience the bad to be able to appreciate the good. This works the other way as well: the more joy that we have felt, the more sadness we can suffer; especially if we suddenly lose the cause of our joy. In this case, the fact that we have known joy causes our sadness.

Things, people, or events that make us sad are often things, people or events that make us joyful. If we love someone and they hurt us, it causes much more sadness than if someone that we don’t care about hurts us. If we do something that brings us joy with someone, and then this person leaves or dies, the same activity makes us think of this person’s departure, and consequently makes us sad.

Sadness and joy come together; they are in equilibrium. But, that’s only true to a point, because we must be capable of raising their levels, we must have either joy or sorrow become stronger than the other for a period of time. These boosts are caused by significant events in life. When we open our hearts so we can feel more joy, we also open up to sadness. We cannot avoid it. If we want to feel joy at the most intense level, we must suffer the equal and opposite emotion.

The only way to not feel sadness it to feel nothing, and that it not worth it. If we were capable of eliminating sadness, there would be no joy and we would have equilibrium: nothing and nothing are easy to balance.

Ever feel like you knew more as a teen than people gave you credit for?