Worry and wonder, I am disoriented. My dreams send me careening down like a kid on a slip and slide balanced on the side of a hill. I wake up sweating and hot. I throw my legs over the side of the bed, the sheets are sticky beneath me. I tug them off. I maneuver out of bed. I sit leaning against the comfort of my bed and shake my head. I hope that I can get the cob webs out. I need my wits about me today. I need to be a grown up today. I stretch my neck listening to the familiar popping and cracking in my neck. I turn my head and try to stretch out my bad shoulder. I let my chin drop to my chest. Gazing downward. The fuzzy blurry wild dreams hang around in my mind like the fog, thick and heavy. Unfocused I push off the bed and trudge toward the shower.
I am wakeful now. It is cold and antiseptic and I shake my hand because it is burning and stinging. Painful even. I look wide eyed at myself in the mirror. My dark hair is tugged back in a pony tail and falls over my right shoulder. I run my hand over my hair to smooth out the stray wild hairs that have spiked up. I must walk. I must wander and have people look at me curiously. I would have been embarrassed for myself several years ago. Gone. I have lost that ability to care. It happens. I wander out of the bathroom. An electric shock wave passes through me, red hot then fading to blue and white. I grip the metal and plastic rail and sigh. When will this ever end. I see the ground clearly again and walk forward, hopeful.
I am wavering. I want to remember and yet I want to forget. On the time space continuum I am lost but I know I am speeding toward destiny. In fact even though time has seemingly stopped, it seems to be flying at me so quickly it is unstoppable. I try breathing as the pain subsides. It is such irony to me that pain, this pain is integral to life. That if we do not choose to experience this pain we are missing the chance. Life is painful. There is no doubt about that.
I lean my hot face onto the cool pillow and murmur asking for water. Just a sip, quickly. As I take it the next wave of trauma to my body washes over me. I try to be Zen about it all but I fail. I am hot and cold and in pain and yet privately in my mind I am seeking the pain because I know it will end soon. I feel driven to my wit's end. I wonder, I hope... Am I doing the right thing here or will I just end up being crazy from it all? I know I will not and if I can survive this I can make it through most anything. I waver but I know at the end I will not. I will be strong enough at the end.
I gasp for air and scream. I am no longer myself and I feel like I can see things that I could not see before. It is that dream that woke me up the morning before. The wonder and worry and more all broken down into the minute, like I can see the molecular structure of everything around me. Time is gone. I feel a warm rough hand and a soft small hand in mine. I know I am screaming but I cannot make it stop nor do I want to. I know this will end.
Relief. Time is back. My senses are back. I can breath and feel and taste again. I am starved and thirty and exhausted. I am whole. I run my fingers gently softly over peach fuzz, dark red downy hair. I do not want to interrupt as you take your first sought out drinks of life. From me. I am amazed. In awe. I helped to make this being, this little baby in my arms. I created those tiny bluish purple fingers deep with wrinkles after that water world you knew and that perfect flat baby nose flaring as you suck and breath, suck and breath. We are quietly bathed in soft white light and there is darkness all around us. We lay in the middle of murmuring voices, people working, in motion but we are not, we are resting after our long journeys.
I find a pair of tired twinkling blue eyes in the darkness and we smile, inwardly. Outwardly. I feel the smooth softness of your arm. Your leg. You are pressed up against me and I feel your strength. My heart sores above the earth. My baby girl.