Over the course of my pregnancy I had purchased several gadgets to help alleviate any discomfort, including a huge body pillow that was the length of our King size bed. I would later learn that this also doubles as a good “please don’t touch me tonight” barrier. I had belly balms and booby oils, heating pads and cooling pads. And, Bobby was sweet enough to buy me a generous gift card to a pregnancy day spa. I hadn’t seen the area below my stomach in a few months and some maintenance was definitely needed. It was getting close to my due date and I feared going into labor and having the doctors and nurses see my hairy legs and crotch. So, I booked a massage and a bikini wax–hey, might as well go the distance.
I showed up to the Edamame maternity spa on a cool April morning.I undressed, put on a luxurious spa robe and waited in the client lounge.
I decided to get the wax first so that I could enjoy the massage. An older esthetician named Maria greets me in the client lounge after a few minutes and takes me into her room. I take off my robe and crawl onto the waxing bed. Maria takes a look at my hairy body and starts shaking her head. Here we go, I thought. Not even five minutes have gone by and I’m already playing defense. Then, she started asking questions. Too many questions.
“When was the last time you had a bikini wax?”
“10 months ago.”
“Did you try to shave your pubic hair yourself? It’s very thick.”
“Hell no! I wouldn’t dare approach an area I can’t see with a blade.
I wanted to scream at her. “Hello? Do you see the watermelon I am carrying around here?” There I was, laying naked on a table, nine and half months pregnant with an extra forty-two pounds on me. Excuuuuuse me for not finding time to shave my legs or anything else south of the border. Just get to work, lady.
I had read that your skin is more sensitive when you’re pregnant and getting a wax would be more painful than what you’re used to, but I was not prepared for this–this was excruciating. Maria applied the wax and pulled at my skin with hesitation and a lack of confidence, like it was her first day on the job. The pain and her lack of precision were too much for me to bear. She had only waxed one leg but I couldn’t take it anymore. So, yes… I walked out with one hairy leg and one completely bare. Oh, and my vagina? No way was I going to let her go there after the botched leg wax! I put the robe back on and went running back to the client lounge to wait for my masseuse.
My masseuse was a pleasant woman named Eva. She greeted me in the client lounge and escorted me to her room. The generic rainforest and ocean sounds music was blasting through the sound system at an octave way too loud for a day spa. I didn’t want to hear rainfall or the ocean waves crashing against the sand on a beach that I could only daydream about. I wanted silence. I asked Eva to turn the music off and she happily obliged. The massage bed had a hole cut in the middle of it so that my belly had a place to go. As Eva’s hands are working their magic up and down my sore limbs, my mind wandered. I thought about all the spa days ahead for Miss J and I.
I thought about mother daughter mani’s, pedi’s, and facials. I thought about teaching Miss J how to shave her legs and how funny she would think my maternity spa day was when I tell her this story. With my due date just under two weeks away, I began to savor the last few days she would be inside my body. We had a rhythm and a language that only we could understand. Every time she kicked I would pause to connect with her. I never wanted to forget the feeling.
The massage was fantastic and the wax massacre was forgiven (but not forgotten). After the massage was over I relaxed in the lounge with a few other pregnant women and I ate the brownies they pretended not to see. I stretched out on a plush chaise lounge and read a few magazines. I giggled out loud about the leg wax.
It turned out to be a great day.
*Names have been changed for privacy.