I woke up this morning slightly hungover from the excellent day I had yesterday.
The great thing about drinking is that momentary suspension of reality. The bad thing about drinking is when you wake up to reality.
Shiner Bock and tequila were dripping from my pores. I have not sweat so much since I’ve been in Austin. All of the stresses of the travel and the lack of familiars and the lack of babies were coming up and washing away. Sweat was pooling around my mat; It felt amazing. All the crap was wringing out.
I needed yoga today like I need air.
I’m not sure if it was the class or me. As I get deeper into my yoga practice, I’m often not sure if I’m the one making it amazing or the instructor is. Today I think it was a little of both; I was doing things I rarely do — holding poses way outside of my comfort zone. There was still no music — but for some reason, today I barely noticed.
We held poses forever.
There was a pregnant woman right in front of me. Not too long ago, it would upset me to see pregnant bellies. Sometimes it would ache so much I’d have to leave wherever I was, running towards my car so I could just cry without looking like a freak. My acupuncturist was pregnant and I would stare at any part of her but the belly she was hiding under her white coat. It always made me feel like such a heel to feel that way.
Today I was just in awe of this woman and her beautiful belly. My only thought was, I hope I look that beautiful on my mat pregnant.
Something to strive for, I guess.
I considered this response progress.
Right before class I spoke with the attorney for the egg donation. I’m still excited about it, but there is always this second guessing dance I do.
I’m holding plank FORVER and these insane questions come swirling though my mind. Are we being fair to our child, being that we are so old and all? — and breathe — Should we adopt an older child since we (specifically me) are so old and all? — and breathe — Is this selfish? Am I selfish? I mean we are so old and all? — and breathe. The way I talk to myself in there sometimes you would think I was one paycheck away from a retirement community. Good Lord, get me a leisure suit and a freaking membership card to the Red Hat Society.
I try to look at the upside; even though I’m going to be the same age my Mawmaw was when I was born (44) when I finally (hopefully) give birth; I’ll be able to do crow poses and headstands.
When I finally released the plank hold, I collapsed into a ball of sweaty, Shiner-Bocky tears. I was so wishing I could go back to the non-stop laughing and fried pickles from yesterday. It was a mild cry as cries go. The tears gently fell out of my eyes and rolled onto the mat. The good thing about vinyasa flow is there’s not that much difference between sweat and tears so you can have a good cry completely undetected if you need to.
Today, I may have just been crying because I was holding plank too long. Because, man, it was long. I have never sweat so much holding my body still.
I wiped my eyes and brow and pulled it all back into downward facing dog. I pulled myself out of the “old and all” pity party by thinking about Raising Arizona. When I was younger I could recite entire scenes from this movie. It’s ironic to me now that it was one of my favorite comedies ever. It’s not as funny when you realize that women struggling with infertility are about one bad hormone day away from this behavior. I still keep thinking I’m going to wake my husband up in the dead of night someday and go all Ed on him.
Considering I rarely drink anything more than a glass or two of wine (when I’m even drinking at all); it was a mild hangover. I can still handle sangria-swirl margaritas and Shiner Bock, apparently. All of the extreme health measures, supplement regimens, and copious amounts of wheat grass shots to increase my fertility have made me stronger and healthier. They did nothing for my fertility, but I feel younger and more energetic than I ever did at 30.
At least I’ll have energy to chase this kid around.
After the final pose, the instructor said, “Release into your pose. Just release it and feel it.”
I closed my eyes and just let the pose move through my body.
As I was lying there I realized this whole thing is going to be a daily process of wonder and doubt and worry and excitement — and forgiveness. There is no book I am going to be able to read, or process I’m going to be able to follow that keeps me from questioning my ability to do any of it. Perhaps this roller coaster of emotions — and an occasional Shiner Bock-Margarita bender — is the process. I can only imagine that wonder and doubt and worry and excitement are some of the multitude of emotions parents feel from the moment their child enters the world.
When I started this yoga-blogging nine days ago, I thought it would be linear. I thought it would be all about yoga, but what I’ve learned is yoga is not even about yoga. Yoga is about you, and the more you do it; more of you emerges.
Perhaps when I look back on all of it, it will seem more linear — but today — today it feels like a winding river.
Like life really. It just ebbs and flows.
I have absolutely no idea where the hell this journey is going to end up; so the only thing to do is just release into it.
Release into it and feel it.
I released into so much today that for the first time ever — I fell into a deep sleep in shavasana. I did not wake up until I heard Om. I only hope I was not drooling.
Most completely relaxed I’ve ever left a yoga class — of course, it could’ve been the Shiner Bock.