It occurred to me as I pulled out my yoga mat that I haven’t stretched since I went into labor 34 days ago. How is that possible? On some level I feel like this whole postpartum time is like this mystical time of reawakening to a past self that is, at the same time, completely reimagined by the transformation of my entry into motherhood. Something as simple as yoga feels like some sort of physical déjà vu. I’d forgotten about yoga – a distant memory from a past life, now reborn as a part of my new life.
It feels great to stretch, btw. I mean, it feels awesome.
It’s also weird to think that 34 days ago when I stretched last, I had a massive belly beneath me that made some of these poses kinda awkward.
The funny thing is, I can’t decide which feels more foreign, picturing myself more recently pregnant, or picturing myself a year ago not pregnant.
Or heck, maybe the weirdest is picturing myself now, eagerly rediscovering myself in one of those rare free moments from nursing or tending my little Aria.
Speaking of which, she’s starting to fuss, better get on with my stretch before it’s too late!!