I’ll let you in on a little TMI secret about me. I don’t shave (much). Nope. Not there, not there, and not even down there. And yes, my husband still thinks I’m sexy.
Ok, I lied. I do actually shave down there every once in awhile, but usually only when I’m going to be seen in a bathing suit, which is typically only once a year.
Every year, during the 3rd week in March, my family heads to the beaches of sunny Florida. We’ve been doing it for 25 years. Rough life, I know.
So every year, during the 2nd week in March, I shave the region so it’s suitable (no pun intended) for public consumption.
Ok, let’s take a leisurely sunset stroll down memory lane for a minute, shall we?
I was 6 months pregnant. I hadn’t seen my toes in day, so needless to say I hadn’t seen the region in quite some time. I wasn’t about to be a big beached whale with her wild and hairy region on display for all of Spring Break to see. I knew I needed the help of grooming professional one that was well versed with dealing with regionscaping. Lucky for me, I had a gift certificate saved up from Christmas to a very posh day spa in my city.
I had a brilliant idea! While I really wanted to spend the gift certificate on a pedicure, I would take one for the collective team and get the region waxed! All my friends swear by the results, and get it done all the time to impress their husbands!
This was going to be so great.
So I make the appointment, waddle into the salon, and get ready for some pampering.
The very nice wax lady (is that politically correct title? Wax lady? Really, I obviously have no idea) calls me back to my private torture chamber procedure room.
And this is where the details get really fuzzy, because I block out bad memories.
She asks if I’ve ever waxed the region before. Um, no I have not.
She gets a worried look on her face, says that they never ever recommend being a wax virgin while so grossly pregnant. To easy my mind, she assures me she’s “the best”.
Here I am, bottoms bare, except for a poor excuse for a paper thong, laying exposed and feeling very vulnerable.
She slathers on the hot wax, tells me to take a deep breath in, and rips with all her might.
HOLE. EEE. HELLZ.
You guys, I started to cry. I pretty much begged her to stop, but she convinced me I’d look rather funny walking down the beach all lopsided and all. So the torture continued.
Honestly, I generally consider myself quite a trooper when it comes to pain. Natural childbirth? Bring it on. Waxing the region? Not a chance.
So ladies, I’m here to tell you. When you’re pregnant? DO NOT WAX YOUR REGION. And if you do, don’t say you weren’t warned.
Take it from me, you got a lot of stuff going on down there. Senses are heightened! Blood flow is higher than average! The region is sensitive!
And you think since I was curly hair free in the region I could get over the pain, right. Nope. Let’s add a little insult to injury, shall we?
Instead of pubs sneaking out of the region, the region was covered in whiteheads a few days later. Something the professional wax lady assured me would not happen. Bazinga!
Emily Elling is a corporate interior designer who lives in central Indiana with her 4 rugrats and drug making husband of 9 years. When she’s not taking care of the monsters, she can be found barefoot in the kitchen or hiding in the isles of her favorite thrift store buying other’s peoples crap. You can read more from Emily on her blog, DesignHer Momma.