Wednesday, June 27, 2007

Do You Want to Hear About My Vacation?

I just got back from Florida. You might say, "Oh, so that's why you haven't updated your blog in almost a month. What a long trip you took." was just a long weekend trip. I've just been tongue-tied like I am quite often.

We flew and I was a nervous wreck the entire time. I had flown pregnant before (on my honeymoon), but I was only 10 weeks pregnant and that was back in the day when I thought dead babies happened to other people. My doctor told me that now was a fine time to travel, but I couldn't help but remember that he also said that if something went wrong, I could always have more babies! My big worry on the flight was that the cabin pressure would make me abrupt again. Writing that, it seems completely silly. But I spend most of my time worrying that I'll abrupt if I sneeze too hard or pick up something heavier than the cat. So that's fun.

This was kind of a business trip for Tom and we went with two other couples from his office, one of them being his boss and his girlfriend. Most of the weekend was spent with the boys going off and doing something manly and girls going off and doing something pink and fluffy. The first night, though, we all went out to a fancy Hawaiian fusion restaurant. This is where I discovered the beauty of virgin big fruity drinks. I also discovered that I didn't know what in the hell I was going to eat in Florida, wracking my brain trying to remember what seafood I could or couldn't eat. They eat a lot of fish down there, you know. I managed to find stuff-- I have no idea how much weight I gained this weekend. Oh, who cares. I'll worry about that later.

The next day, we all embarked on the aforementioned manly/pink and fluffy outings. The boys went deep sea fishing and the girls went to a day at the spa. The spa was huge and very fancy. We spent the day in white bathrobes and white flip-flops, quietly flip-flopping around the place with other spa-goers in white bathrobes. It reminded me of a cult. Or maybe monks at a beauty monastery. We had massages, manicures and pedicures, and a frou-frou lunch of shrimp salad and tabbouleh. Stuff that I would I have liked if I wasn't pregnant, but it looked yucky to me so I had two pieces of pie for lunch: pecan and key lime. That's a spa lunch to me. I want to tell you about my massage, though.

I had only had a couple of massages before. Never a maternity massage, though and I was worried about it. I was afraid to lay on my belly, even though I'd be laying over a belly hole. Although I was distracted by the spa surroundings for the most part, I was still zeroed in on what was going on inside. I was worried about what the flight did, and I was desperately waiting for this baby that usually moves constantly, to give me some kind of reassuring thump. The masseuse came out to the lounge to get me. She had the longest arms that I'd ever seen on a woman and they were covered in the big, raised veins of a bodybuilder. Oh jesus. Does anyone want to trade? But I went with her. In the (what is it called?) massage room, she asked, "Is this your first?" I hesitated for a minute like I always do. Do I want to lay here for a half hour while she talks about how great first babies are? I said, "My first baby passed away." And went back to filling out my information sheet. "Mine did too," she said.

And so for the next half hour, instead of talking in a hypothetical way about how great first babies are, we talked about how great our first babies were. She had a little boy, too, and she lost him almost 32 years ago. His name was Christian and he lived for two hours. I wondered how she was able to work with so many pregnant woman, but maybe 32 years later you lose that anger and animosity towards them. I hope so, but I hope that it doesn't take 32 years. During our chat she said, "Oh, the funeral." I said, "I know. It was terrible, wasn't it? You don't spend that time being pregnant even dreaming that you'd have to plan a funeral." It was nice to talk to someone about these things. I'm not sure how relaxing it was, though. I thought that I wanted to feel normal by having one of these massages, but I think that it helped my heart to talk about it. Maybe it helped her heart, too. She never had any more children-she was too scared. She even tried to adopt and when a baby was made available for her, fear made her turn that down, too. Now she has dogs. They're easier, she said. I wish she had tried again. But I know how scary it is. And I haven't even gotten to the really scary part yet--the last few weeks. I was glad that I met her and I felt bad that I was a little scared of her.

This is getting long and my butt is starting to hurt. I've got more to tell you, but I'll do it later, I promise.

p.s. Tom caught lots of fish, didn't puke from sea sickness once and got a comedy sunburn on his legs that looks like he's wearing red tights. He had a good day. So did I.

End Part One


delphi said...

Funny - I have gone for regualr massage for the last 5 years, and I still was afraid a few times when I was pregnant with BB. I was sure I would lie the wrong way and he would put pressure on his cord and cut off blood flow. You worry about abruption (naturally) and I worried about any possible cord anything.

I'm glad that you didn't have the awkwardness that normally follows "is this your first" though I do understand how having such a conversation would NOT be relaxing. I hope you felt good afterwards, though.

Poor Tom! Red tights! I burn like that, so I feel his pain. Ouch!

Catherine said...

I'm so glad that your decision to be open about Nate led to that personal connection with the masseuse. I think sometimes we forget that we are not the only ones who have been down this road. It's nice when we're reminded we're not alone.

And from what I know of you, I don't think it's going to take you 32 years at all...not even close. :o)

Monica said...

Wow, that sounds like you probably got more out of the chat than the massage. And it probably makes you feel good to know that she probably felt better too. It's nice when you can make a connection like that. I ran into a woman I'd had a class with when I was getting my master's. She new I was pregnant but before she could ask me about it I told her what happened. She all but broke down crying and told me she lost her first at 28 weeks. Here we are in the produce section crying and laughing together. It helped me tremendously, especially because she went on to have two beautiful children. I wish I could get a pedicure. My mom bought me a pregnancy "package" at this spa, but since I have a rash on the bridge of my left foot, I won't go (TMI, I know.). I just know the pedicurist would throw my foot right back at me. It sounds like the vacation was good for you.


niobe said...

That's wonderful that you were able to connect with someone who has also lost a child and feel a connection to her.

I've always been afraid that if I met someone in real life who's lost her child that it would be very hard to deal with, that it would reopen all my newly-healing wounds. But maybe, based on your experience, it wouldn't be nearly as bad as I fear.

BasilBean said...

I just want to say "welcome back" and that I look forward to reading Part Two. I'm not sure if I've commented before, but I've been reading your blog for a while now.

BethGo said...

Thinking of you today. How's it going? And because I'm curious, are you still playing music? How is your flute? :)

Anyway, I hope you are doing well, pal.