Stream of Consciousness

Setting: inside my head on a treadmill at the YMCA. My view of the clock on the wall is obscured by a weight machine, and a towel covers the treadmill display, so there is no sense of time.

Music: a playlist I made called "Childbirth." It was meant to relax me and help me focus during my natural childbirth with Weston. Irony duly noted.

Monologue of Weston's mom, set to Childbirth playlist:

Sail Away (David Gray)
Sail away with me, honey. I put my heart in your hand. Yes, please.

You Can Always Come Home (Andrew Peterson)
I'll love you today, I'll love you tomorrow. I'll love you as deep as the sea.
I'll love you in joy, and I'll love you in sorrow. You can always come home to me.

All true. Except, of course, that last sentence.

Sister (Dave Matthews Band)
I miss mine. She has a brand new baby boy: the very definition of bittersweet to the millionth power. There is a chasm.

No Ceiling (Eddie Vedder)
Oh, Eddie. You get me. Hauntingly beautiful song from an unforgettable book and movie (Into the Wild). I envy the one who got to satisfy his "urge to up and disappear." So much so that I am going to repeat this song three times.

Why can't I cry?

Birds of a Feather (The Civil Wars)
Sometimes I can't tell where I am, Where I leave off and he begins. Who could do without you?...One of these artists must have lost a child.

Crush (Dave Matthews Band)
OF COURSE you would play my favorite Dave song, which happens to be lighthearted and carefree. The old me who enjoyed those happier, simpler times died with Weston on July 28. Now this song just breaks my heart.

Furnace Room Lullaby (Neko Case)
All night, all I hear, all I hear's your heart...The rest of the lyrics are so dark I can't bring myself to put them here, for fear they could come true.

I'm Scared (Duffy)
I'm scared to face another day 'cause the fear in me won't go away. In an instant you were gone and now I'm scared.

Mary (Sarah McLachlan)
And OF COURSE you would play a song entitled "Mary." My latest fixation: Mary, the mother of Jesus. (Another post is coming on that topic. Get excited.)
Mary walks down to the water's edge, and there she hangs her head to find herself faded, a shadow of what she once was. She said how long have I been sleeping, and why do I feel so old? Why do I feel so cold...

All of this, all of the above: it is my time with Weston. When I want to spend time with my son, THIS is how I have to do it. In my head, accompanied by very dark thoughts.

Action
Step off treadmill, head to free weight area, do a set of lunges.

Dialogue
Trainer: Just so you know, I will be using this entire area for my group. We're going to be throwing balls around and moving around a lot. Blah, blah, blah....
Me: In other words, I have to move.
Trainer: Well, you can use this part right here. ["This part" is about the size of my foot. No, thanks.]

Where the hell am I supposed to do my lunges?

Action
Crunches on stability ball. Find another, much less convenient place to do lunges and complete another set.
Back to stability ball. A woman is using it. I go to get another one; they are all in use.
Back to MY ball. Stand and wait.

Dialogue
Woman who stole and is currently using my ball [in a very bitchy tone and with bitchy eyes]: Do you need this or something?
Me: Yes, I need my ball.

Will you people please stop taking my space? Is there any room for me in this (quite large) gym? IS THERE ANY ROOM FOR ME ON THIS EARTH? DO I EVEN EXIST TO YOU PEOPLE? Assholes, every single one.

Action of Caroline's mom
Walk to kids room to pick up surviving child.

Dialogue
Kids room teacher: Is she really three?
Me: Yes.
Teacher: It's amazing she's only three. She is so eloquent.
Me: [Big smile]
Teacher: She takes a while to warm up, but then this bright personality comes out. I can't believe she is only three. She is amazing.
Me: Thank you so much. Yes, she is.

So is my son. I wish you could see for yourself.

It's hard to believe Caroline's mom and Weston's mom are the same person. This is the dual reality of living the divided life, every single day.