Chloe Kernaghan is a movement artist, yoga teacher, and writer (mostly) based in New York City. We’ve invited her to write about her experience as a new mom. Photographed by Chloe for Misha & Puff.
Summer 24 | Chloe Kernaghan + Ren
So here we are. My son, Ren, is just about 4 months old. I’m just about 4 months a mother. And wow. Every expression feels so true in a way that is beyond sweet, beyond funny, just so real. Like “savor the time, they grow up so fast.” Even in just 16 weeks he’s evolved numerous times into iterations of himself. And I feel like I’m evolving alongside him.
I’ve been a movement person my whole life with dance being one of my deep loves, and teaching yoga being my primary career. So naturally when it comes to thinking about how we grow, I turn to the body for the clues and the roadmap we’re on. In the womb, touch is the first sense to develop for a baby, initially on the face, and then through the hands and feet. When I read this I was reminded of the Gaga dance technique (not Lady Gaga-related, but a dance language developed by the choreographer Ohad Naharin).
A Gaga class is improvisational, guided by anatomical, energetic, and visualization cues the teacher calls out throughout practice. The anatomical language is tissue and bone talk mixed with mystical dialogue. The palms and soles of feet are referenced as Luna, the moons of the body, drawing attention to the sensitivity and receptivity available at these distal sources.
I think about how often I forget about the grandness of touch, about how we can affect our nervous system just through stimulation of the palms and feet. Watching my son’s foot reflexes when contact is made shows the inherent wisdom our feet hold— toes that curl around the finger, feet that want to stamp and dance when given some weight. I’m awestruck watching him discover his hands, being able to open and close his palms, starting to grab things and bring them to his mouth, the shapes of his conductor arms and hands with his startle reflex. What a wonder to experience new textures for the first time… to feel silk, wool, grass, wood, silicone — a wild way to learn about surfaces and objects on Earth!
Last month I took him to an Infant Development Movement Education (IDME) course (yes, of course I’m taking him to baby-led movement classes). We baby caretakers learned techniques for tummy time, smart ways to pick up and place down babies, developmental toys for them based on their age, and simple concepts around how to be supportive of babies’ body explorations. The key takeaway for Ren’s age group was how important this tactile exploration is at his stage, and how it behooves parents to let that be the focus over visual stimulation via toys or the dreaded screen time!
As a new parent you’re extra cognizant of screens, how much time you’re spending on your phone when with baby and just how quickly infants learn to watch and pay attention to screens. Now that Ren’s vision is getting sharper and he can see distance more clearly, when our TV is on in the living room, he will crane his neck to see whatever is on. When I take out my iPhone to photograph him, if it’s in selfie mode he’s ultra attentive. While I’m not necessarily fearful of keeping him fully away from screens altogether, I do hope to prolong the period where screen time is the primary thing that brings satiation or satisfaction.
And so we get on the ground. We play on our backs and bellies or I prop him up on my thighs to sing. We go outside and sit under the shade of a tree, or stroll the neighborhood. It’s intimidating looking toward the future knowing that as he grows and becomes more mobile, its gonna be work keeping up with him! I’m already tired! And my body has never been so foreign to me (sore, tight, unsteady, confused).
In a way, I feel like I’m having to discover this new iteration of myself as my son discovers his body and how it works. As much as I might have prided myself in the past of my own body awareness and knowledge, the process of pregnancy, birth, and now being postpartum continues to humble and astound me. My body has done magnificent things, and yet I do have to mourn what it was before baby. Not so much about the superficial aspects (though they come up for me a few times a week at least), but more how my stiff back lacks the fluidity it once had. My posture has shifted so much with holding a heavy baby all day that my breath has a different quality. While I used to consider myself more of a sprinter with quick, spritely energy, now I feel I move with a slow, marathon pace. There’s nothing wrong with any of it, per se, but it's just not quite the me I’ve been acquainted with for the last 36 years. I know I’ll eventually get back into more movement, and it will enhance both me as a teacher and a mover. I’ll appreciate it all someday, but right now I feel as I imagine Ren feels about figuring out how to roll over: it seems attainable eventually, but we’re not quite there.
And so we keep doing what we do. Me supporting him, him supporting me. Both of us trying to figure out what it is to be a human in a body. Taking in the experiences that life hands us, and processing it through our physical forms. And the adventures continue, I know we’ll both get older, and yet I have no idea what’s in store for us. But no matter, I am so beyond excited to be on this journey with him.