back to the gym

So today is my first day at the gym in almost a month. Right around Halloween I decide to use fatigue and exhaustion as my ticket out. Then of course our little bean is in trouble so I put my feet up for a whole week. Then I lose the baby and am on bed rest for four days and then comes the "poor me" excuse. Well today I am all out of excuses and I'm sweating and grunting like the rest of them.

My normal routine consists of a Sunday morning and Thursday afternoon strength class with some cardio mixed in between. By my doctor's recommendation, I inform both instructors I am pregnant from the beginning. I am not worried about "un-telling" my Sunday instructor. The class is always full and she is not the friendliest to begin with. The only words I've ever spoken to her are "I'm pregnant" and I'm not about to follow it up with "actually I'm not." This one I can just ignore. Let her think what she wants.

I do feel like a big cheater, though, when she passes by me with a slight nod as I am wussing out of a set of squats. She thinks my growing buttocks, little belly and half-assed squats are sweet. She thinks I am a cute pregnant girl; that my dark circles are from exhaustion or maybe nausea. Perhaps I've missed the last few classes because my morning sickness has kicked in and I am home puking in the toilet, drinking ginger-ale and painting my nursery. What she doesn't see is that I am nothing more than out of shape, overweight, lazy and in mourning. Far from cute.

I peek out the window trying to find my husband's cute little ass on the elliptical. Shit! There is my Thursday instructor peeking back in. Why is he here today?!? Unlike the Sunday lady, this one has a name. Jeremy. Funny, friendly, high-fiving, laugh-out-loud Jeremy. He is my friend. On the day I tell him I'm pregnant he smiles his giant smile and his eyes get all big and he congratulates me with a monstrous hug before I can hush him and explain we aren't actually telling people yet. He can't help himself and I can't help but find his joy contagious. I'm pregnant. Yayyyyyy!!

Only now I'm not and how do I tell him this. I feel him staring at me and I look away. I can just hear his loud happy voice with his outreached hand ready for a hard shake -- where've you been, girl? How ya feelin? How's that little baby in there? I can just see the awkwardness in his face when I tell him the truth. I can't do it. I am trapped. Trapped in this room of sweat and movement and strength. "Strength" class. Only I don't feel strong. I feel weak. Frozen. Broken.

In this moment I am the most naked kind of vulnerable and I recognize it. I even accept it. Am I trying to protect him? No, I'm trying to protect me. But from what? Embarrassment? Pity? Shame? Why? I have done nothing wrong! I did not even do this -- it was done to me!

My class is over. I put away my weights and exit the room ready to stand up to my own worst enemy. I am a big girl. I will face the truth and I will share it shamelessly. I will do it with grace. I will not hide. Only Jeremy is gone. I will have to wait until Thursday after all. But something in me has changed. I no longer dread this and I will not avoid it. I will hold my head up high and I will live my truth.

I may have wussed a little bit on my squats today, but this strength class has not gone wasted.