Oh For the Love of...

Criminy! This week has been one crazy sh*t after another. Indeed, there's truth to the saying that if your week started on a bad note, the whole week will turn out a disaster. Well, technically it's only the middle of the week and I didn't start the week on a bad note, it's my I'm-never-talking-to-this-not-so-nice-neighbor who ended my Monday on a sour one.

I went to yoga class at the Y tonight. I dropped by the reception desk and chanced upon a woman who was talking to one of the staff. I overheard her saying she haven't been back to the Y for six months because she just gave birth to a baby boy. She was carrying a yoga mat and I was silently hoping against hope that she won't be in my class.

But alas, she headed toward the room where my class is usually held. Noooooooooooo! Why me?! *cries* So I came in and the instructor hasn't arrived yet. There were just the three of us. Another woman I haven't seen in last week's class and the newly-minted mama of a living baby. I felt antsy. I had a feeling the newly-minted mama would talk about her baby with us.

She had that eager look on her face, almost maniacal really, which reminded me of my old Catholic school teacher who would try to lock eyes with us during recitations to force us to participate. The woman needed a captive audience and I was trapped in a small yoga room with another woman who radiate an open and friendly enthusiasm that seems to say, "Yes, yes! I'd love to hear all about it!" For crying out loud...really?! Where is my baby-loss crucifix when I need one?  Or perhaps my-baby-is-dead-holy-water to ward off this bright and cheerful motherhood exuberance? *sigh*

I managed to inch my way toward the door while I mumbled "...bathroom" and half walked, half run in relief outside. I went to the pool area and waited there, all the while berating myself for not going back to Aquafit instead. I think I'd rather endure the cold water than try to find my center with that newly-minted mama. Now I've nothing against mothers with live babies or pregnant women really. I don't know the circumstances behind how they got there. You know, some might also be another BLM like me or maybe someone who'd gone through a lot of losses before achieving such bliss. It's hard to tell and I don't want to feel a blind ill-will toward them.

It's just that I'm jealous of their happy circumstances and I envy what they have - a living, breathing, beautiful baby. I try not to focus on this thought but somehow it's in my deeper subconscious. I can keep it under control or even under wraps but it won't go away completely. I guess, this is but another dimension to our new life as the bereaved. We look at other women and what they have that we don't and think to ourselves, "It must be nice to have a son that's already six months old. It must be nice to hold a breathing baby in one's arms. How lucky they are. How blessed they are!"

So there I was seriously contemplating ditching yoga class but I found myself walking back to our room when I saw our instructor. Yes, I probably have a little bit of masochistic streak in me somewhere. I chose to stay and do my practice. Besides I was already there, I might as well do some exercise and not let the day end in a sour note again. It's not like I'm trapped with zombies or something. I can handle the discomfort for an hour. And I did.

But here's the clincher - it turned out the newly-minted mama and the instructor knew each other well. So the mama gave the instructor her baby announcement. Of course, ooh-ing and aah-ing ensued while I fumbled with my yoga mat, blanket and a couple of blocks. 'I need to get out of here pronto,' I thought desperately. As I was heading out the door, our instructor stopped me and held the baby announcement to my line of sight. 'Isn't he cute?' said our instructor, smiling at me.

'Get down, get down I said,' I heard myself say to that familiar lump in my throat, which was threatening to spill tears out of my eyes. I gave the card a passing glance - I saw head, eyes, hair in a blur - you know, like you're squinting at a picture or a painting to obscure the actual subject. I feigned a plastic smile, nodded and said, "Good night."

I high tailed it out of there. I don't think I would come back next Wednesday. Maybe I'll try Body Flow, or better yet, get into Body Combat. I could use some heavy duty punching and kicking to release all this pent up baby loss emotions I've been having. At least there, I won't need a crucifix or holy water to protect me.