P.S.

I went to another prenatal yoga class tonight. What. Are. These. People. Smoking. This teacher (very singsongy) stretched out a former student/new mother’s very personal birth story over the whole 1.25 hours and used all of the gritty details — and they were gritty — as metaphors for yoga poses. Because I’d love to have the story of my vaginal tearing shared with random strangers. She seemed to want to tell us how to feel and what to think about each aspect of pregnancy and birth. I just wanted to exercise, yo!

The part that really pissed me off was how she mentioned this mother was very scared of the whole process when she first started coming to class, but eventually chose the, and I quote, “High-Minded” path. Yeah, because that doesn’t sound judgmental at all. And of course, the teacher had to tell us how non-judgmental she was.

Tomorrow I’m going to the one class where I actually really like the teacher. Sweet relief.