Menu
Embrace the Chaos: A Light in the Dark
Updated: Sep. 20, 2018
Originally Published: Feb. 15, 2016
WARNING: This narrative may not be for the faint-hearted.
So, here I am, heavily pregnant, and let me tell you, it comes with a laundry list of unpleasant surprises. My fingertips are numb—it’s carpal tunnel, a common nuisance for expectant mothers, and it’s truly bothersome. My gums bleed during brushing, I’ve lost all the hair on my arms, and I can only find one sleeping position that doesn’t leave my legs feeling like lead. I’m battling a persistent cold, and the only remedies I’m allowed are hot baths and self-pity. Oh, and there’s this little parasite inside me that’s absorbing every nutrient I’ve got. As my Salvadoran housekeeper puts it, “Your baby is stealing your beauty.”
Recently, life took a particularly rough turn. In the span of an hour, I had to say goodbye to my beloved 16-year-old feline companion. I called my mom to share my grief, only for her to unload a barrage of family woes, and then I received a call from my doctor delivering the news that I now have gestational diabetes.
I get it—this is like a discount version of a stand-up routine. “Thanks for the gestational diabetes. Much appreciated.” But this situation plays a crucial role in the story I’m about to share.
With gestational diabetes, I have to prick my finger four times daily, consume special meals five times a day, and sleep is a distant memory as my body goes numb. My husband is out of town, my cat is no longer with me, and I’ve resorted to eating saltines and string cheese for lunch. So, in search of some relaxation, my friend and I decide to treat ourselves to a massage.
We head to a local spa I’ve visited before. It’s a no-frills place that aspires to be tranquil, with a co-ed waiting room filled with robes and the awkward silence of strangers. It lacks individual treatment rooms, so we’re all crammed together behind curtains—like a dark carnival of relaxation.
I’m guided to my section and told to undress and climb onto the table. It’s a feat in itself to navigate this with my pregnant belly, but I manage. As I shuffle onto the table, I suddenly realize I’m wet. At first, I think maybe I didn’t dry off properly after my shower, but I know that isn’t the case since it’s been quite a while. I feel around, confused, and then I sniff my hands.
It smells like semen.
At this juncture, my brain is trying to process what’s happening. “No way, this can’t be happening.” “Oh yes, it is. Try not to panic, but you are covered in unknown bodily fluids.”
As I’m grappling with this alarming revelation, the masseuse enters. He sees me on my knees, and I stutter, “Uh, um, there’s something here…” I don’t know why I feel compelled to be polite, but I mention that he shouldn’t smell it.
The masseuse steps in, visibly shaken, and I realize that my blanket is also contaminated. In a moment of sheer panic, I bolt to wash my hands. Meanwhile, my friend, sensing the urgency, comes to my aid. “We’re leaving right now,” she declares, but I’m hesitant—after all, I was looking forward to a massage.
In the end, we speak with the manager, who is equally horrified. The masseuse confirms that the situation is dire and that the sheets are beyond salvage. The manager assures me they’ll prepare a new room. I take a cold shower, scrubbing away the nightmare, and try to calm my nerves.
Eventually, I return for a new session, but it’s awkward as the same masseuse is now visibly uncomfortable, and I can’t shake the anxiety of what just happened. My mind races with thoughts about what I might have contracted, questioning everything from STDs to the safety of my unborn child.
Just as I’m starting to feel overwhelmed, I remember that moments earlier, I had pricked my finger for my blood sugar test. The very same hands that touched that contaminated surface. The reality of my situation hits me hard, and I’m left feeling like a cautionary tale.
After a lackluster massage, I’m approached by the receptionist who attempts to console me with grand gestures of sympathy. I’m whisked away to discuss the incident with the manager, only to find out that they’ve never had a situation like this before.
After filing a report and ensuring that my concerns are documented, I can only shake my head at the absurdity of it all. This is a wild chapter in my life, and while it’s been a rollercoaster of chaos, it’s also a reminder of the unexpected twists that come with pregnancy. For more insights into managing pregnancy and home insemination, check out this excellent resource: WebMD on Pregnancy Treatments.
Summary:
In this humorous and raw account, the author shares the chaos and unexpected challenges of pregnancy, culminating in a shocking incident at a massage therapy session. From coping with gestational diabetes to navigating an uncomfortable encounter, this narrative highlights the messy, unpredictable nature of bringing new life into the world. It serves as both a cautionary tale and a reminder to find humor in the chaos.