motherhood,  pregnancy

John Paul’s Birth Story, Installment 1

Because a second-born deserves an epic saga.

{Parts 2, 3, and final here}

Last Wednesday my mother in law arrived in town to help us with life after new baby…the baby, however, was still happily ensconced in utero.  Minor detail.

Determined to get things rolling, and fresh out of ideas after trying massage, chiropractic, evening primrose oil, raspberry leaf tea, acupressure, running, membrane stripping, positive mental imagery, sex, pineapple, chinesefood, redwinemexicanfooddrinkinggallonsofsalsavigorouswalkingelipticalmachineridingswimming…

you get the idea

I decided to play my ace. After having tried short of castor oil to get this baby into an exterior position, I put on my game face and headed to Ying’s Hairstyles and Foot Massage.

A hidden gem in glamorous Englewood, Colorado, Yings is my go-to for cheap asian massage (not that kind of massage). $25 bucks gets you a rocking foot massage that basically is a full body massage in a recliner, while soaking one’s feet in a bucket of lavender. Primitive? Perhaps. But completely amazing. Add to this the grim reality of pregnancy, week 41, and I was a desperate case indeed.

I waddled into the salon and bee-lined for the massage cave where I collapsed most gracefully into the last recliner in the row, swollen toes pointed heavenward. I was ready. Let’s do this, Ying.

(Actually, Ying had a hair appointment, so Leena was my superhero that day.)

to be continued … a cruel tease I know, but the ravenous beast awaketh…did I mention he had a 2 hour and 41 minute nursing sesh last night around, oh, 2 am…? No?

My bad.

Love love love my fresh baby, but so flipping tired.


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