Tuesday, March 01, 2011
I've been lazy. Lazy with blogging, lazy with exercising, lazy with dinner prep. So
yesterday marked my triumphant return to early morning yoga. Sorta. I went once right after Lily died but it's all a blur. Unfortunately yesterday will be a blur too. Started out fine, yawning my way through the opening breathing and the first couple poses. Then I got nauseous. In case I haven't mentioned lately, this is a pretty intense yoga class--Birkram, so it's 105 degrees and an hour and half long. So it's not all that uncommon to feel pukey during it. So I took a sip of water and regretted it, and then the dizziness hit. I kept getting up and trying to participate, then would flop right back down on my mat. Finally at tree pose, one of my faves and the last standing pose before the floor series, I decided I was going to make this happen. So I stood in tree and then found myself leaning against the wall. I looked at myself in the front mirror and I looked LOUSY. Pale and sickly. The last thing I remember is my hearing sounding muffled and my cheek hitting the wall and beginning to slide. "Ha!" I thought. "I think I'm passing out!"
Again, passing out in Bikram yoga isn't all that uncommon, so I got very little attention. Then I got hit after class with one of the teachers saying "that's not uncommon your first class."
MY FIRST CLASS? Offended. I mean I may have taken a couple weeks off and I don't wear tiger print booty shorts, but c'mon. No doubt had I mentioned my daughter just died so THAT's why you may not recognize me, I would have gotten a new agey speech about my pent up emotions just overwhelming me today and that I really need to take time for myself to release and let go, blah blah blah. Not entirely untrue.
Luckily I felt well enough to go to work, and after hearing my story we all decided it was a good day for one of the nurses to get passed off on her IV Fluids Module, so I got to sit in a chair with a blankey and get a liter of saline in the name of training. Perked me right up.
In the future I will be sure to hydrate before going to 6 am yoga. Diet coke and raisinettes a la Oscar Party won't cut it, supposedly.
Loss of consciousness aside, I am doing alright. I still find myself looking for distractions to stay just ahead of the wave of sadness. I let myself lie in bed and be sad Sunday morning on the 3 week mark of Lily's death. I lay my head right where Lily was when she died. I cried a bit. Zar and I sighed and said Oh Lily, and then did our imitations of her funny little whiney cry.
I don't wish she hadn't died. The way things were, it was for the best. I wish she didn't have seizures. I wish her heart had been healthy. I wish she had been more comfortable. I wish I could feel her close now. I could feel Charlotte close afterwards for a few weeks. Does that mean there is something wrong with me, or does it mean Lily is so glad to be gone from this place she isn't even looking back?
Okay. Good feeling. Good crying. Come up sputtering and spitting salt water. Shake it off. Back to the tasks at hand. Back to the other kids. Back to life on this rough little earth. Wait for the next wave to roll in.