Therapy

So far throughout my pregnancy, I've been feeling really good. Not one day of morning sickness, for which I feel so insanely lucky that part of me is sure this baby is going to be a devil of a toddler just to make up for it. It's a foregone conclusion that she'll be a terrible teenager--karma I no doubt deserve.

I've stayed pretty active, walking and doing yoga, and I'm eating well, if you don't count the occasional Trader Joe's corn dog that somehow finds its way into the microwave. Food on a stick--hard to resist.

But I do have one complaint and that is a chronic pain in my back. Every day by the afternoon there is a sharp, uncomfortable ache that becomes unbearable by the evening and only feels better when I finally lie down with my new best friend--a 5 foot bed pillow.

I should really get a massage and I know this is obvious, but I somehow have not yet scheduled that. Instead, I just fling myself to the ground and moan in pain while performing normal functions like preparing dinner or checking email.

Tonight, when Rob came home from work, he rubbed my back while I took a break from cooking.

"How does it feel?" I asked.

"I don't know," he said.

"Like, does it feel tight and bumpy?" I was sure there were knots like rocks up and down my shoulder blades.

"It feels whiny," he said.