Damnit, Massage Envy!

I only have one day off this week. Today. And that hardly constitutes a day off, because I have to work again at midnight, so my day "off" essentially means I get to sleep when the sun goes down and wake when it comes up for ONE NIGHT.

And on my day off, I want a damn massage. My mom was gracious enough to get me a membership to Massage Envy a while back, and I've now skipped two of my monthly paid-for massages because the world is so effing scared of pregnant people.

The last time I went, they said they couldn't do it until I'm 15 weeks, unless my doctor said it was okay.

Well, yesterday I asked my doctor, and she actually laughed in my face.

"Um, yeah, that's perfectly fine, as long as they don't maul you in the uterus."

So, today I called the lovely massage people, and NOW they say they can't do it until I'm 13 weeks, even with my doctor's permission.

I'M 4 DAYS AWAY FROM 13 WEEKS! What the hell is gonna change in these oh-so-important next 4 days?? Will the fetus suddenly become immune to mommy's relaxation?

The masseuse actually told me last time one of the things they can't do to preggos is rub their feet. Because, uh, there's an old wive's tale that rubbing your feet can send you into pre-term labor.

I'm 12 weeks along. At this point, it's not called pre-term labor. It's called a miscarriage. And if rubbing my feet could cause a miscarriage, then sorry, baby, but I went to town on my feet LAST NIGHT because they hurt so stinkin bad.

It's called being pregnant. Your feet hurt, your body aches, you're more tired than usual, more IN NEED OF A MASSAGE, and more irritable.

Rub my damn feet, Massage Envy.

Thanks.