yoga: a personal persuit becomes a bonding experience

After I had Gwen, I lost myself in motherhood a bit. There is no denying that you change, on a very profound level when you become a parent. After a year, I knew I had to do some work to find balance in my new life. I needed to make sure that I was caring for myself, and addressing my own needs, not just Gwen's. I started going out with girlfriends for occasional dinners, and started volunteering with a state park clean up once a month. About 9 months ago, I added yoga to my weekly routine, and it has quickly become one of the most crucial ways that I find balance in this mommy life of mine. I only attend a formal class once a week, but it is one night a week to focus solely on me, and my emotional, physical, and mental well-being.

This, and more amazingly gorgeous family yoga pictures, can be found here.

Recently though, I decided it might be fun to share what has become a passion of mine. Not that one night a week - that is still mine, and mine alone - but yoga in general. Gwen has shown a curiosity in this pursuit that keeps me out past her bedtime regularly, so when she asked me about it a few weeks ago, I decided to ask her if she wanted me to show her what yoga was. She was very excited about the prospect and quickly soaked up each position I showed her. At first, it was just something that she brought up sporadically, but once she started showing her school teachers different positions (her favorites are tree and wheel), I thought it was time to make this something more regular. I have a family yoga DVD in hand that I can't wait to show Gwen.

At first it seemed funny to me that something which brings me so much joy as a personal pursuit would be something that is such a joy to share with Gwen as well. Honestly though, when we love something we want to share it with the world, and that's what Gwen is to me. The benefits are numerous as well. Gwen's knowledge of my practice was important to me, because I want her to be aware from a young age that my physical health is a priority; I want physical activity and healthy pursuits to be a focus of hers. There is so much pressure on girls to look a certain way, but this has a different focus - feeling healthy. Our conversations are never about how I do this to fit into my pants, or so I don't get fat, since that is not at all what it is about; our conversations are about how yoga helps me to feel healthy, strong, and gives me more energy for other types of play.


As we continue to explore this passion, I hope Gwen will find, as I have, that she is becoming more in tune with and more aware of her body. I want her to be proud of what her body is capable of, and to understand that with practice and patience, that capability can grow.

Being Proud of Our Bodies: Part 1

As women, especially after having children, it's easy to see the flaws in our bodies.  The extra sag, the stretch marks, the bags under our eyes, the hair that has been rinsed in the sink for a few days, the makeup you haven't taken out of the case in months.  It's easy to get caught up in the fact most moms don't look like supermodels do after they have a baby.  We aren't a size 2 with perfect breasts and a tight stomach six weeks after birth.

My last pregnancy I felt better than I had in years. I gained over 30 pounds, which for me is a big deal, and then in a moment that still amazes me, I pushed her out in my living room.

However, this isn't about my whole body. Just my breasts. I know it may seem strange, but it's hard to appreciate my new body when I take everything in at once.

When I'm nursing or pumping, I thin down fast but look like Pamela Anderson when I'm engorged. Even nursing they aren't perky anymore and each time my milk comes in and then I stop nursing or pumping, my breasts are a bit flatter and a bit saggier than before. Think of two empty wallets, barely big enough for an A cup.

To help love my entire body, I've decided to think of all my breasts have done.

I nursed my first daughter for nine months, and then again for one month 29 months later. I exclusively nursed her for four months, and pumped when I went back to work when she was six months old. I grew her, inside my body and then outside.

I gave birth to a baby at 13 weeks 5 days, and three days later my milk came in. I went on to exclusively pump for two and a half months and donated to three babies in need.


My rainbow baby was born after Thanksgiving, and I have exclusively nursed her for 14 weeks 2 days, even with the rough first six weeks we had.  I have also in the last two months pumped to donate to very good friends.

In the last almost six years, I have pumped a total of just under 12 gallons of milk to donate to what will be seven babies, and then topping out at 15 gallons when I add what I pumped when my first daughter was in the NICU and when I went back to work when she was almost six months old.  I have grown two babies through nursing, the second even has the most amazing chub.

My breasts may be covered in stretch marks and not perky, they may be tired and battleworn, but they have done so much.  I may not look like I did seven years ago, but they are serving the purpose they were made to serve.  For that, I can love my body even more, and be proud of the work it has done.

Congratulations! You're a Mother! Now What Do You Wear?

When I was pregnant with my first child, I encountered woman after woman who shook their heads at my belly and said, “You know, it never goes back.”

I didn’t believe them. I had three sisters-in-law and one cousin who all emerged from their pregnancies looking fit and phenomenal – in time of course. I too lost my pregnancy weight, and thanks to breastfeeding, I lost more weight than I gained in my pregnancy. But what caught me off guard was the time it took, and that it didn’t come off gradually at a steady pace, but in chunks. I wouldn’t lose a pound for 8 weeks then seemingly overnight I’d lose ten.

I discovered that while plenty of people talked about the process of losing pregnancy weight, they didn’t talk about what to wear while the weight came off, or that it would be stupid to buy clothes, when I would only be able to wear them for a month or two before they too would be too big. But you have to wear something, so it’s a bit of a catch-22.

My second child is seven months old. I have bought five pairs of pants in different sizes off the clearance racks. I’ve gone through three of them. I found a gorgeous pair of trousers at an after-Christmas sale on pure faith that they will fit at some point. They don’t yet, but I have hope. My favorite health practitioner told me that women shouldn’t even consider dieting until 9 months after giving birth. She said most women actually lose their weight from all the extra calories it takes to breastfeed, recover from labor, and mother their children. It’s why they say that it takes 9 months to gain the weight, so it takes 9 months to lose it. For some of us, it’s up to a year.

So, in theory, with the 9 months of pregnancy and the year to lose the weight after, some of us go almost two years before we’re reunited with our wardrobe. For some, it’s a short reunion, if they opt for the second child being close to the first.

Every few weeks or so, I go through my clothes and see which ones I can get away with. It’s tricky because just because you can zip a zipper shut doesn’t mean you should walk out of your bedroom wearing said item. Or some clothing items are no longer relevant to your mothering life. But there are items I couldn't wait to get back to. I spent my pregnancies missing my pencil skirts. I finally found one that fit, only to discover that now pencil skirts are essentially stupid to wear while mothering a child. I felt like a mermaid on land. I couldn’t move. A friend of mine confessed that since she became a mother, she could no longer wear or walk in heels. I laughed. Then last night, as I got dressed for my sister’s engagement party, I realized I couldn’t either. I slipped on my favorite heels and suddenly felt like I was on stilts. I was scared to descend stairs and knew I wouldn’t be able to carry my baby while I teetered downward. I considered sending my sister a note that said, “Can’t come because I can’t wear heels.” I wore my slightly heeled oxfords and added, “Practice heel wearing for sister’s wedding” to my to-do list. I went to put on a favorite dress, before I remembered that dresses are not breast feeding friendly. It didn’t fit anyway.

So what do I wear as a mother? Cute boots and shoes I can walk in that don’t make me feel frumpy. I wear trousers and skirts I can move in. I take the advice of a friend who told me, “After giving birth, it’s easy for your self-image to land in the gutter, so you need to wear things that make you feel good, things that make you like yourself when you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. And above all else, have compassion for your body. Parenting changes us; it’s stupid to pretend that it doesn’t.”

Boys and Body Image

About a year ago I posted about BFAR and body image for the Body Image Carnival hosted by Melodie at Breastfeeding Moms Unite! and MamanADroit. It was such a wonderful experience to share my story, and to read the stories of other women and their body image experiences. The issue of body image plagues all women it seams. Not surprising in a society that equates beauty and sexuality with worth, and then defines that beauty and sexuality with an airbrush.

But what about men?

My little man is barely aware that he and I are two separate people, so I doubt he’s overly concerned with how he measures up to the rolly-polly blond haired blue eyed happy squealing babies on TV. But the experience of reflecting on my body image lead me to thinking about what body image will mean to my son in the future.

Naturally I asked my partner. When young boys see pictures of hulking muscle men with shiny abs and bulging pecks, does it make them feel not good enough? He doesn’t seam to think so. Or at least, he doesn’t remember having those kinds of feelings, or comparing himself to any masculine ideals as a child. I am a little skeptical, but in fairness:

This is what Superman looked like when he was our son's age:

And this is what Superman looks like now:

Women aren’t the only ones whose bodies are idealized, skewed, and misrepresented in the media. So why would women be the only ones feeling shamed and pressured by those images? I don’t believe that we are the only ones, so why isn’t their more talk about the ideal of masculinity that is being marketed to our boys, and the effects that these images have on them?

I am well aware of the behaviour that will be modeled to my son by the media. I find myself determined, if a little daunted, to raise a peaceful and respectful boy who treats women and all beings with kindness and mindfulness despite the fact that every TV show, album, toy, and game marketed to him will be working against me. Even so, until recently I hadn’t really thought about how the marketing of masculinity would effect how he feels about his body.

Will he see the barrel chested and over-muscled features of super heroes and action figures as something to aspire to? Will he compare himself with eerily hairless square jawed billboard models? I expect that he might, and I am unsure of how to prevent, or deal with any self image problems that may arise from the media’s version of what it is to be male.

Is guiding a son through all of these unrealistic messages about body and behaviour any different then guiding a daughter? If my son were a daughter I feel like I would be better prepared to do this, if a little overwhelmed by the size of such a job. But having no first hand perspective of my own about the effects of masculinity in the media I feel a little lost.

How does one help any child, male or female, find their way through the muddied waters of gender and body image?

*This post was originally posted on http://www.pocketbuddha.ca It has been edited and updated for repost here at The Connected Mom