There comes a time in every woman's reproductive life when she finds herself at a crossroads. That time is different for every woman. Some find themselves at that crossroads before the idea of pregnancy even hits. Some must stand there soon after finding out that something is growing inside. Each decision different, each decision personal. Each decision that woman's alone.
I was at that crossroads this past weekend, on the cusp of being 39 weeks pregnant. A little late in the game, I know. But nonetheless, I found myself faced with a decision I knew would eventually have to be made. One I have been putting off for so long...But at 39 weeks, I had run out of time. I had to choose which path to follow:
To get a bikini wax, or to not get a bikini wax.
Part of me thinks that of all the times you would like to be neat and trimmed, it would be the one time when a host of people will be in and around that area. The other part of me thinks that given the fact that a human being will be coming out, no one is really going to notice my new "haircut".
It is my body, my decision. I made the appointment.
In my defense, when I called, I informed the woman taking the appointment that I was 9 months pregnant and felt awkward. She assured me that tons of pregnant women do this, and I shouldn't think twice about it. This reassured me. Until I got there, and the waxist (waxicologist? waxer?) took one look at me and said she couldn't do it.
Let's just say I felt like a monster at that point. And it only went downhill from there.
Regardless, another woman came to take me back, and when we got back there, it was evident that I couldn't get onto the table. At that point, I felt like I was a deformed quasimoto. And no the table didn't have a lowering system like a massage table normally does. So this woman wanted me to jimmy sideways onto the table, while she hoisted my leg up. All while I was in my underwear.
Yeah, I don't think so. I asked for a step stool. The best they could do was an overturned bucket. Great. This was clearly going to be luxurious! I have no idea why I thought it would be awkward!
I eventually got on the table. I will spare you all the details, but let's just say I was in there forever, and she asked me several times how I thought it looked during the course of the procedure.
Lady, if I could see beyond my girth to tell you what it looked like, I wouldn't be here in the first place.
The thing about crossroads, once you start down the path, there is no turning back. So I sit here today, a neatly trimmed woman. And to all those that will follow in my footsteps, I can not tell you what to do. My place is only to relay my own experience for your consideration in making your own life decisions. It will be up to each one of you.
Good luck and God's speed to you all.
PS: You may want to bring your own step stool.