Recently, in my frantic third-trimester compulsion to become Supermom, I purchased a yoga tape. Now, normally I would rather do something invigorating and sporty that would cause me to feel a burn than hold a pose for a minute while breathing deeply and feeling a mind-body connection. But the prenatal workout DVD I really wanted was $40, while this yoga DVD could be had for less than $10.
I popped it in and the room was greeted by relaxing New Age music and the ambient noise of a babbling fountain. The voice of my instructor filled the room. It was clear to me that this woman had just had a three-hour massage, two Valium, and a decade of experience working for a classical-music radio station. I strongly suspected she would not be uttering any perky instructions to “feel the burn.” Confirming my suspicions, the entire 45-minute session was narrated soporifically with her admonitions to her onscreen class to cradle their babies with their abdominal muscles and breathe deeply, bringing life-giving oxygen to their little ones. Her hypnotic — perhaps stoned — voice never caught in her throat, despite the fact she most likely subsists on a diet composed entirely of granola.
After nearly falling asleep during several of the poses and generally failing to follow instructions because her voice was so slumberous, I concluded that yoga was not for me.
Instead, enter the Senility Workout. You see, natural pregnancy hormones help pregnant women get more exercise than they normally might. This is accomplished by these hormones causing the woman to forget virtually everything she tries to commit to memory.
Bills? Late.
Christmas tree? Still up.
Bag for the hospital? Didn’t occur to me until someone on BabyCenter asked what everyone would be packing.
Yes, such are the glories of pregnancy. Just imagine this combined with the neurotic compulsions typical of a raging nesting instinct, and you’ve got someone about half as crazy as I typically appear these days. If I remember something, like the fact that the baby will need wee T-shirts for a few week so her stump doesn’t get chafed by mean old tight-fitting Onesies, I am a madwoman on a holy mission until that’s taken care of. Mainly because I know if I don’t get it done NOW, I will completely forget.
But I digress. Despite the toll this new, near-Alzheimer’s-like senility has taken on my sanity (and that of those around me), it is great for my cardiovascular system. Since I am constantly forgetting things, I am constantly backtracking to get them. And with the level of absentmindedness we’re discussing, this means I burn many, many, many extra calories.
Here is a typical instant-message exchange between Chris and me. (I am sure that no one who knows us would ever believe this, but we are so geeky that we IM each other from computers in different rooms of the house. What? You are not surprised?)
Chris: Coming upstairs soon?
Heather: Yep
Chris: Can you pick out a DVD for us to watch and bring my phone on your way up?
Heather: No prob
Five minutes later
Heather ascends stairs and enters kitchen.
Heather: Crap!
Chris: What?
Heather: I forgot to grab a DVD.
Five minutes later
Heather brings DVD upstairs.
Chris: Did you get my phone?
Heather: Please shoot me and put me out of my misery.
And then there’s the lovely scene (which happens every day, just so you know) in which we plan to go somewhere, so I run downstairs and put on my shoes, then take off my shoes, run upstairs, grab my purse, run downstairs and put on my shoes again. Then I remove my shoes, run upstairs, grab my sunglasses, run downstairs, realize I left my purse in the bedroom when I was getting my glasses, go up again to retrieve it, and finally, after three unnecessary trips upstairs, am actually ready to put my shoes on and get out the door. Provided my hoodie is not upstairs.
Thank you very much, yoga lady, but my life is not choreographed by New Age music, and frankly, all this running around leaves me in a very tired and vulnerable state that should not be exacerbated by DVDs that should have heavy-machinery warnings on their labels.
No, whether I watch that yoga video or not, I am already getting all the stair-stepping exercise my butt needs to look great throughout pregnancy — courtesy of an intensive workout program designed by the very hormones that drove me to buy the yoga DVD in the first place.
Talk about your mind-body connection!
And here they are, just a day late this time: Week 31 belly pics.
