Getting myself ready.

So, last night I decided to go to the spa and have myself "groomed" for the upcoming occasion. If this is TMI for some of you, then stop reading now.

Anyway, for those of you who aren't sqeamish about such things, let me begin again. I decided I didn't want to look like I'd been living in the wilds of Africa for the last nine months. I can't actually see anything anymore, but trust me, when I tell you I am certain it wasn't a pretty sight. So, I made an appointment at the spa for last night and went in.

Now, I've had this done only one other time and I laughed my ass off the entire time while the woman waxed and ripped causing me untold amounts of pain. I laughed hysterically at the fact that I was actually paying someone to do this to me! All I could think was, what kind of crazy person has this done to themselves willingly? Sadly, once they start, you can't really stop because the wax is already on there and you can't walk around like that, so you just have to make it through the pain. Well, after that experience, in which I repeatedly broke out in a cold sweat as I endured the pain and had to walk gingerly for a day, I decided I would probably never get a bikini waxing again. Of course, I should be smart enough to know that one should never say never.

Now, I guess I could have tried to do it myself (but I seriously cannot see a thing), or I could have asked Chuck to do it (but that's really not an option). One time I had Chuck manicure my nails and when I looked down I realized he had manicured them to look like man hands - so now I don't trust him with very many grooming details with regard to my body. So, without many other options as to taking care of this area, I came to the conclusion that the spa was my best option and I just needed to suck it up and do it. Well, I did. I have to admit that I was a much better trooper than last time and even avoided the hysterical laughing. Instead, I only experienced the cold sweats a couple of times and the technician (or whatever you call a person who gest paid to rip hair off of a person's body with hot wax) kept me talking the whole time as she waxed and ripped and groomed me as she saw fit. She asked me my preferences and all I could tell her was, that I couldn't see anything so she should go ahead with the procedure however she saw fit. Well, she did, and it looks fine - I think (again, I can't really get a good look at it). In any case, I don't think it looks like I've just emerged from seclusion and the doctors shouldn't be scared when they see it.

But through it all, I decided that waxing that area of one's body is definitely worse than child birth. Hell, the tech even asked me if my Lamaze was helping. I said, "I have no idea. I never took Lamaze." Tech, "Well, it really does work for you to blow out the pain." I was stunned into silence as I thought, should a person really willingly engage in a monthly activity (bikini waxing) in which you have to utilize breathing techniques to overcome the resulting pain? That's not for me. I swear after that statement the ripping hurt more for some reason, but I got through the whole thing mostly intact after banishing scary wilderness woman.

(On a side note, if you decide to have this done and you aren't pregnant, drink two glasses of wine in the waiting room and pop a couple of Tylenol before you subject yourself to this kind of pain. If you are one of those people who has this done regularly, then I will state for your sake that apparently this gets less painful if you have it done on a regular basis. Sadly, I cannot overcome the pain and the fear of pain, so I will probably never get to a point where this is pain-free experience.)

With all that trauma, however, I think I induced myself to going into false labor. I got home about 8:00 and started having strong (but not painful) contractions around 8:30, five minutes apart. After a while, I insisted that Chuck needed to clean the house just in case this was the real thing, plus I was totally riddled with anxiety. Who knows what the anxiety was about since I was really ready to go, but the anxiety was there nonetheless. (Of course, in my opinion, the thought of having a newborn and a third kid is enough to make a person a little nervous). While Chuck cleaned the house, he put in a movie he said was meant to ease my anxiety. For the record, Lethal Weapon 4 was not a good choice on his part. At 10:30 (contractions still coming every 4-5 minutes), I decided I needed to take a shower and go to bed. I showered (still contractions), went to bed (still contractions), slept for a couple hours and woke up at 1:00 (still contractions), and fell back to sleep around 2:00 (no more contractions). So, here I am this morning back at work and ready for anything!

Now that I've got the nethers groomed, my next step is to get my hair highlighted, my nails filled, and my toes sparkling. We'll see if I can fit it all in.