This week's appointment was really no different than the usual. As usual, the nurse- Ann (aka Debbie Downer) came in to make sure she could take the fun and anticipation of the new arrival and make it all as boring and blah as possible. Plus she's judgey. Which aggravates me. If she is one of those boob pushers in the hospital I'm going to klock her. No doubt. I'm hoping her "expertise" stay at the prearrival office visits. The doctor came in asked how I was doing, to which I replied - "Still Pregnant." I've been having more fo'contractions. Super fun. They start - and I wait for a pattern and for them to get stronger. What happens? Nothing. Another thing that doesn’t happen to everyone, but of course happens to me are these Braxton Hicks contractions. I dislike Braxton Hicks- whoever he/she may be. For the last two days they have been happening more often. But with no pattern and clearly they aren't getting stronger. But I think as I started talking about the hopes that they would just get going, and how I am ready - she looked at my cankles with a face of sadness. She looked up at me and recognized the desperation in my eyes.
It's then I got an offer I never thought I would get. An offer for a sympathy internal exam. She literally cocked her head to the side, with eyes of pity and said, "You want me to do a cervix exam?" I asked her- almost hopeful, (pathetically, I will admit) "You think I need it? You think you should?" I was hopeful that she would say - yes. But alas, she said "No."
Now I ask, why the F would I WANT a cervix exam if it was not necessary> NO thank you.
I talked to my mom on the way to my next stop of the day where she gave me some uncomfortable advice. Like to get the baby moving I needed “Carm, Chinese food, and to walk.” I asked her 2 or 3 times to repeat it- because I didn’t’ get the carm part- finally she spelled it out for me. S P E R M. She had never actually said carm, it was just what I was hearing, probably because my body was rejecting this kind of advice from my mother.
From there with no new or good news to share I was off to a treat. I got the nicest gift for Mother's Day in May. The best Dad to be gave me a gift certificate for a massage. I called last week to make an appointment for last Saturday- but the woman I spoke with said that the air conditioning was broken. There was no way that I was subjecting myself to that- so I made an appointment for Thursday, after my appointment. I figured no new or good news would be had so I’d need a pick me up.
I filled out 3 pages of paperwork and waited for the magic to happen. Although truth be told- I was slightly nervous. When I had originally called the information the woman gave me on the other line, after the no a/c head’s up for the previous week was a bit unclear. She kept asking if I wanted to have a male or female masseuse. I told her – I didn’t care- I did want a firm massage though. She said they could, but being that I was pregnant they couldn’t be firm on my lower back. Which I’m still unclear as to why. But either way- I was excited for the firm massage. She said, well I will be your masseuse. To which I replied (because frankly she sounded like a mouse) “Ok, and honestly I can have a male masseuse- I really am hoping for a firm massage. Is there a lot of nudie?” She said no, not really and she would see me on Thursday.
I should have gone with my gut because after waiting up crawled my teen princess mouse of a masseuse – she shook my hand like a dead fish. And her hands were tiny like a carnies. Literally her hand fit in my palm with maybe an inch over. No joke. No exaggeration.
This became less of an issue because of the way they prop up a whale with pillows. It was actually surprisingly comfortable and I have now found a new love for pillows. While she can prop a girl up- with her carnie hands she didn’t work the magic. Ultimately it was a great experience because it was super relaxing and when I got home I slept better than I have slept in forever (with a little help from my friend, Bennie) and today felt fantastic. For the next weeks of which I will be knocked up I will continue with my new habit. I’ll be getting rub downs, but not from carnies. I need someone up for the job, strong hands- like bull.