It's always handy to remember just how bad labour pains really feel

I know this is not the most tactful heading for a blog shared with an incubating woman, but I honestly have to go there...

See this? I want you to picture me, in the kitchen this morning, at the start of a perfect day - not actually going through a yoga routine but attempting (yes, with s.p.o.n.t.a.n.e.i.t.y Kim!) to demonstrate to my husband why even flipping pancakes was giving me cause to wince.

So I say to the Prof: Check this out, yesterday Clare made us do these really low warrior poses and (I position my legs as above, right heel turned well out, left knee at right angle) then she kept making us drop another inch, then another inch...

Now look again at the picture above and imagine if, instead of a serene and glistening sea in front of my left leg there was an unseen splash of water left over from unpacking the dishwasher...

Who says yoga is not a contact sport? Because I am pretty sure my left hamstring made contact with the back of my head before sproinging back into what is now laughingly known as my leg.

The Anatomy Formerly Known As Bec's Leg would like to apologise and nameste all the gods of yoga for showing unforgivable hubris over pancakes, to accept its punishment and to seek forgiveness and healing.

In the meantime, I can at least be grateful that, since these aren't REAL labour pains, at least the gods won't add injury to insult and force me to take on another child in order to make them stop.

mtc (but dear lord, not too much more I hope)

bec