Finding my third, pregnancy, eye

As with some of my other posts, when I've not wanted to completely embarrass myself, I've found a generic image to illustrate the point. My first pregnancy yoga class was not the time to get out the camera, so here is a woman who is far more accomplished than me. I also thought this image was pretty amusing.
So off I went, with the one of the other bumpettes (34 weeks) to a quiet lounge in Queens Park for some stretching, chatting and serious bump comparisons. Next to me was Lisa, who at 39 weeks was completely incapacitated by her expanded figure and who had to sit propped up against the wall for most of the two hour session. Despite her inability to get up unaided (so many uses for a small stool, it turns out) I was extremely impressed by her dedication. And I hope that when I get as enormous as Lisa (no offense, love) that I'm motivated enough to even leave my front door.
At the other end of the scale was a girl and her micro-14 week bump. Again, I was impressed by her dedication. Although, if I was going to be picky, perhaps the class may have been a bit low-impact, considering that she looked liked she'd eaten a large meal rather than that she was carrying a small child. Anyway, it was a nice mixed group and we did some useful stretching, chatted about our different issues, lay on the floor with the lights out listening to Madame Yogi tell us about how important we are to our babies (I think a tear welled up in my eye, although it could have been the dusty carpet), and then she made herbal teas, brought out chocolate Bourbon biscuits and told us not to have the Third Stage placenta-removing injection. It was an interesting, if somewhat incongruous combination of refreshments and information. But one that left me feeling virtuous and a little bit more knowledgeable.
The Yogi in question, if anyone fancies a visit, is called Julie Krausz. I really liked her, except when she just dropped into the conversation: 'I assume that all of you will be breastfeeding for a at least a year.' At which point, I'm sure one of my breasts let out a very tiny yelp.