I sat in lotus position beneath the bright purple hammock, nervous and uncertain of what to expect. There was something soothing about the way the radiant afternoon light poured into the movement studio. It felt nostalgic, reminding me of those lazy Saturdays in my teens when the world felt exciting and full of new possibilities. I’d seen several beautiful pictures and snippets of videos with women gracefully suspended in their acrobatic poses. While I’d liked the idea of it, I wasn’t quite sure how I would ever be able to do any of those things. In fact, I was completely intimidated at the prospect of what was about to unfold.
“What have you gotten yourself into now?” I wondered quietly.
However, I knew that I was there because I needed to try new things. I was in a sticky place, looking for ways to reignite my passion for life at a time when so much in it felt tainted by sub-fertility and my constant failure to carry a pregnancy to term. I’d put off many things that I wanted to do for a number of years, all the while fixating on my primary goal of starting a family. It’s been an exhausting seven year process of my husband and I. We’ve been navigating an elusive path to parenthood that has been filled with unexpected setbacks at every turn. So, the idea of aerial yoga was a welcome step away from my everyday reality, a bit of breathing space to experience something different.
The instructor, a lovely, warm and gentle woman who I quickly grew to love, began by guiding us through a brief meditation to set our intentions for the class. We perused the beginner’s instruction manual to get to grips with the basics of aerial yoga. From there she eased into the practice, starting first with slow easy stretches that allowed us to get acquainted with the hammock and then working our way through to more complex yoga asanas and inverted poses – basically, the intimidating stuff that I’d need afraid of.
Each step of the way I found myself thinking, “Nope, there’s absolutely no way I could possibly do that move!” And each time, my instructor would gently guide me through the movement and encourage me to try it one or two more times until I got the hang of it before we moved on to the next thing. I was stunned to find myself doing inverted monkey poses, shoulder stands, tumbling in and out of the hammock and flying. I left that introductory workshop feeling so empowered for the first time in a long time. The following week I returned to the movement studio and began attending regular classes. I fell deeply in love with the sense of freedom that doing aerial yoga gave me. It felt so amazing to achieve something I didn’t think I could at the outset. The more I strengthened my core and saw myself grow from class to class, then the easier it became for me to trust my body and its many capabilities.
In a few short months, aerial yoga became a regular part of my weekly routine, something that I eagerly looked forward to. In a weird twist of fate, just as I’d become comfortable with my new favourite form of movement, I discovered that I was pregnant. My husband and I were overjoyed, convinced that this would finally be the pregnancy that stuck. I felt healthy, balanced and unlike with past miscarriages, the pregnancy showed no sign of anything being wrong.
Sadly, things did not work out the way we’d hoped this time round either. At our first prenatal scan we were devastated to discover that it was an ectopic pregnancy. Unfortunately, my baby had implanted in my right fallopian tube instead of my uterus. The tube had ruptured and I was bleeding internally. I ended up having an emergency surgery and lost both my baby and my fallopian tube. The weeks following my pregnancy loss were some of the hardest ones I’ve ever had to navigate. In addition to learning to cope with grief and depression, the ectopic pregnancy seemed triggered post-traumatic stress and anxiety as well. I faced a long treacherous road to recovery.
About eight weeks after my ectopic pregnancy loss, when I was able to resume with more strenuous physical activities, I returned to the movement studio. I’d lost confidence in myself and it was really difficult to trust in my body’s ability to support me after all that happened. Yet even so, aerial yoga welcomed me back like a long last friend. I slowly eased back into the practice, reacquainting myself with gentle stretches and deep breaths. There was something about the strength of the hammock fabric and the way that it supported my weight through every yoga pose that was reassuring, a constant that reminded me that there were somethings that could be relied upon even when my world was in a state of chaos. Once again, it helped me to rebuild my relationship with my body. It became a catalyst in re-establishing the trust that was lost.
Not only was it a physical outlet, but it also fed me emotionally and spiritually. Aerial yoga became one of my many forms of therapy and benefited my mental health tremendously. It grounded me and brought a sense of liberation from the things that weighed me down all at once. The more I leaned into aerial yoga, the more it gave me the courage to keep challenging myself. In time, it showed me my own resilience, proving to me that I was stronger than I’d ever imagined and taught me that I could rely on my body and my personal strength to get me through the hardest times. These are profound lessons that I’ve tried to carry across into my fertility journey too.
Sub-fertility and agony pregnancy loss have greatly challenged my perception of myself. It’s taken so much to find a place of peace in the midst of this ongoing struggle. I am grateful for the healing balm that aerial yoga has offered me. It’s a relief to breathe easier and with a lot more faith in myself and faith in the good things in life than I was able to before. Although my future is uncertain and I don’t know how much journey will end, I remain hopeful and open to the various possibilities that life has to offer.
