I have known this day was creeping up on me, but I wasn’t fixated on it, but now it’s here: February 25th is the one year anniversary of the day that Mr. MLACS and I suffered our first miscarriage. And I fully realized it this afternoon (of February 24th) and I experienced some grief over it. And I had been planning to go to a ‘spinning’ class, but I waffled about this decision because it was at a gym where I’ve never taken spin class before, and I was tired because I ate a big bowl of gluten-free pasta around 4pm, and I had an emotionally draining conversation with my father to mend a rift between us, so I was just full of legit excuses to skip this class (of course I would’ve worked out in the gym of the complex where we live, but it would’ve lacked intensity)…but I thought “Is this who I want to be? A person who makes excuses instead of getting up and getting out there?” And the answer is: No. I knew that even if I went to class and didn’t give it 100%, I still needed to go in order to honor my commitment to myself (and in some way to honor the baby I have yet to conceive). So I sucked it up–I went un-showered and un-kept with cat hair all over my black spandex pants–but I got my a** out the door. THAT, my friends, is 90% of the battle when it comes to fitness: Showing Up.
It was busy but I managed to find a parking space, walk in the door, and sign up for the class just-in-time. Then I walked in the class…and realized that my f*ing bike had clip-ins and no straps (clip-ins only accommodate those fancy-schmancy ‘spinning’ shoes and not the sneakers of mere mortals like myself. Pffft.) Luckily, the super agile looking dude next to me was kind enough to switch me bikes. The instructor introduced herself, dimmed the lights, and started the music…this…is where sh*t gets weird…
The first song was… “What Doesn’t Kill You Makes You Stronger”, by Kelly Clarkson. “Hmmmm” I thought “Now that would apply to my miscarriage(s).” I felt my heart swell a little bit–not from the cardio but from the emotion that began to bubble inside me.
Then the next song was… “Isn’t It Ironic”, by Alanis Morrissett. And that sort of freaked me out. Because YES, it is IRONIC. It’s ironic that I got pregnant miraculously, started bleeding on the morning of Feb. 25th, but had a HR of 160 BPM, but then lost it that night in the ER. It’s ironic that I’m still not pregnant now, a year later, after this miraculous pregnancy, followed by TRYING for an entire year. It’s ironic that I thought I was going to get the job in the fertility clinic after IUI #3 failed, but then came in 2nd best. It’ f*cking ironic that February 25th is the day I lost my baby, and I have to attend a funeral on this day (for a 91 year old man, but still). It is ironic. Is the Universe trying to tell me something???
The next song was… “Sweet Emotion” by Aerosmith. And I’m thinking…”Yes, I’m feeling very emotional right now.”
Then… “Wanted, Dead or Alive”, by Bon Jovi…this HIT ME like a ton of bricks… I wanted that baby. I wanted that baby dead or alive, I wanted it and nothing takes that desire away, or the pain of not having that baby with me now… the lyrics say “On a steel horse I ride”, and I was currently riding a ‘steel horse’ in the form of a stationary bike. I began to think that none of this was a coincidence, me going to this class… Thank God it was dark, because the tears started to fall…it was all I could do not to ‘ugly cry’ right there in the middle of class, but I managed to keep my face from twisting while the tears fell. I kept pedaling.
Oh, and here’s a good one… “Wonderful”, by Everclear (I’ve seen them in concert, btw). These lyrics really nail the last year for me (wishing all the bad things away):
“I don’t wanna start over again
I just want my life to be the same
Just like it used to be
Some days I hate everything
I hate everything
Everyone and everything
Please don’t tell me everything is wonderful now…
I don’t wanna hear you tell me everything is wonderful now”
And I’m crying, and I’m thinking “FUCK, OK UNIVERSE. GOD. YOU WIN. WELL PLAYED. WTF DO YOU WANT FROM ME?!” Am I supposed to have a nervous breakdown?! Huh?! Then WHAT???” Cuz, yeah, for a brief moment in time (before I came to this class) I was thinking that I was doing ok, but, thanks for reminding me about how f*cking angry I am and how everything is NOT wonderful. Muchas Gracias.
There were a couple more songs, but we ended with… “Like A Prayer” by the one-and-only, Madonna. And the words that struck me from this song were “Life is a mystery, everyone must stand alone”, and this struck me, because I don’t understand. I don’t know what I’m supposed to be learning from miscarriages and the painful wait and the tenacious fight that I’m putting up in quest of a healthy pregnancy and baby. I’m confused. It’s a mystery. And though I have my husband, doctors, and my dear friends (you ladies), I think we all feel alone to some degree. I felt alone in that class as tears slipped down my face in the dark.
I think this particular playlist should be named “The Playlist for Broken People”.
I don’t know what the point of this post is. I just knew I had to come home and tell you guys that:
1. The anniversary of my 1st Miscarriage is February 25th (it’s been a year)
2. I went to spin class. Yay me. But got b*tch-slapped by the playlist. I don’t know whether to feel spited, or vindicated. ???
Despite the playlist, I liked the class. The guy next to me gave up his seat for me after he’d already set up the bike for himself. The back row was a group of girls that whooped and hollered and sang along to the songs (some days that is annoying but today I thought it was cute). The instructor let me put my coat up front on her platform and she remembered my name on the way out. I got a good workout and I purged some emotion. Maybe crying in the dark at spinning class will be my new “thing”. It beats crying on the couch at home alone.