Why the Bump Collective? And Why Me?

Why The Bump Collective? And why me?

Hi! Mary Anne Tillotson here! I’m a 32-year-old, childless, uterus-less stepmother and certified cat lady, and I founded the Bump Collective in 2025, alongside my dear friend, Marilyn Glinka, owner of Arches Bodywork. I have two stepsons, ages 12 and 15, and four cats (I told you I was certified). After years of pain, I underwent a hysterectomy in 2024 to remove my uterus and cervix, and to cut out the endometrial tissue growing in my abdomen. And I, of all people, am the one in charge of a collective of women designed specifically to serve biological moms.

Trust me, I’ve always been the first to ask, What am I even doing?? After this long though, I’m trying not to question it.

The simple fact is, serving moms has truly become my calling. 

After a now-ex-boyfriend gifted me a yoga mat in 2017 (that’s a whole separate story and feelings and such), I vowed to practice yoga every single day in 2018. I missed a few days due to illness and happenstance, but I probably practiced close to 350 days of that year. A coworker started to teach lunchtime classes at my office, and she encouraged me to go through yoga teacher training. I thought she was crazy. 

It turns out that yoga studio memberships are super expensive though, so I signed up for a local yoga teacher training program - it was cheaper to invest in the training than it was to pay for a membership month after month. But then I fell in love with it. 

I graduated in May of 2020, at the height of the COVID-19 pandemic, and began teaching tiny, socially-distanced classes with AirPods in my ears and Zoom streaming to folks more comfortable at home. It was rough, y’all - nobody talks about how hard it is to figure out your voice, your style, who you even are as a teacher. There is no “practice”, really - there’s just doing, and deciding on the fly what works or doesn’t work. Then showing up to the next class, unlearning what worked last time, and learning something new for this time around. Over, and over, and over.

But I made it through those early classes. My friend (the one who nudged me towards YTT) opened a studio in downtown Belmont, and my teaching opportunities and experiences grew. I began to figure out who I was, what sort of classes I enjoyed teaching, and what my voice sounded like.

In 2021, a student reached out to me with the most life-altering “Tag - you’re it!” I never saw coming.

We’d known each other fairly well - we practiced alongside each other at the old studio where I’d first begun teaching, and she’d attended my early morning classes regularly. We grabbed coffee together, and connected on social media. She was pregnant with her first child…and she was miserable. Yoga had given her control and confidence in a lifetime filled with chronic pain, and pregnancy was keeping her off of her mat. Those two pink lines had brought her so much joy, but the realities of pregnancy were devastating for her - everything hurt.

I knew nothing about pregnancy - I’d watched my sister-in-law and a coworker grow rounder and rounder as their pregnancies progressed, and I understood the basics of what was going on, but I’d never experienced it myself. I’d miscarried once, without even realizing that I was pregnant at the time, but never carried or birthed a child. I knew nothing about prenatal yoga - my training went into the barest minimum of details, and I didn’t have any of the why behind the rules. But my friend needed a yoga teacher - and I was the one she tagged.

I bought books about prenatal yoga, devouring information and highlighting passages. I began to teach classes - Meghan was my only student. I asked her question after question: What is your body feeling? What are you experiencing? Where is your mind at? How does this posture feel? What about this shape? Tell me more! 

I led a prenatal yoga workshop at Belmont Yoga fully expecting just a few students to show up. I thought we’d talk about how to modify the classes that were currently on the schedule, snap a few pictures for the ‘Gram, and go on our merry way. Instead, six women showed up - and each of them wanted (needed!) their own class. Not a class for everyone that could be modified - a class specifically for moms, where they could talk about what they were going through, how their bodies and hearts felt, what they were excited for and nervous about. A class designed specifically for the pregnant body - because pregnant bodies are nothing short of incredible. Am I right, or am I right?

I kept teaching, but more importantly, I kept learning. I enrolled in an 85-hour certification course with the Prenatal Yoga Center in New York City. I kept asking my students questions. I kept reading. And I began to realize just how few resources are really actually available (and accessible!) for moms.

Something like 66% of moms report their birth experiences as “traumatic.” The number of C-sections scheduled increases dramatically just before holidays. Black mothers have a mortality rate of 49.5 per 100,000 births - which is double that of white mothers. My students - mostly white, fairly affluent, educated, in a highly-populated area - struggle during pregnancy and after giving birth, with everything from postpartum depression, baby blues, lactation difficulties, pelvic floor health, self-esteem, confidence in new motherhood, marital relations, physical discomfort, and so, so much more. Motherhood is hard, and their struggles are valid. And how much harder is it for women who have access to even less?

The Bump Collective brings together resources for moms - resources that may fall outside of normal insurance coverage, that may or may not be talked about inside doctors’ offices, and that encourage community and support above all else. By combining our offerings into one unique experience - like our day retreat coming up on March 22nd - we’re able to reach more moms in a more affordable way. Moms can ask questions, connect with other women in the community, enter raffles for services in our area, and spend a day designed just for moms.

So why me? The woman with no children, no uterus, two stepchildren, four cats, and a background in corporate tax? Who knows? I say that it’s proof that God has a sense of humor. Whatever the reason, I’m awfully glad of it.