On Thursday, November 20, nine months pregnant, I taught my final Sweet and Steady Yoga class of the year. My ego patted itself on the back as I took crow pose, and my emerging identity as a mother smiled during meditation as I felt the kicks of my unborn child in my belly. Four days later, Ruby was born. Practicing throughout my pregnancy taught me a lot about stepping onto my mat in the present moment, accepting my changing abilities each day, and watching my mind spin stories about my future. I valued those lessons, but practicing after my pregnancy has been a whole new experience. My deflated belly, previously a warm home for Ruby, once again allows room for a forward fold. The healing muscles of my pelvic floor remind me when I am truly using mula bandha. But more than the physical changes, the practice of relating to my growing baby girl has been the source of deep transformation. No two moments are the same with her. I must remind myself not to hold her too tightly, to allow room for her to have her own experiences as she acclimates to her body and this world. I watch in awe as her experiences unfold in each moment. I am entranced by the wonder in her eyes when she discovers her right arm or the joy she derives from the sound of her own voice. As she wiggles and farts and spits and squeals, I am aware that I love her unconditionally for being completely herself, still mostly free from the binds of self-consciousness. I hope that some part of her already understands that I will always love her for all of these things and none of these things. Even when on the surface things don't seem perfect--when I am sleep deprived and comforting her at 3am or when she has had a poopsplosion--I still find myself savoring the moment. There is room for all of it, the good, the "bad," the goofy, the sad. We can work and we can play, and through it all, we can love our whole selves unconditionally. I am reminded to love myself as I love this child.