She's about, oh, 6 months pregnant. She was perfectly healthy, not her first pregnancy; a young beautiful woman, just having the usual lower back discomfort typical in this part of pregnancy.
|Not actual client, FYI.|
Whenever I begin a massage, I stand for a moment, hands either hovering just above or lightly touching my client's back or head, taking the measure of the day. Is she stressed? Angry? Sad? Tired? Hurting? Joyous? Relaxed?
She was calm, receptive, and happy. So happy. As I loosened tight muscles and mobilized overworked joints, I felt her energy. It was ... pregnant. Full. Brimming.
It was like looking at a rich, thick blue fabric, but when you get close, you see the tiny pink pinstripes worked into it. Multi-layered. And she was so beautiful. It was more than just a pretty face, although she would be considered lovely in any situation. But her skin was so full, so curved. She said it would be ok for me to gently massage her belly, so I did, first mentally asking permission. Hello, Baby. I'm helping Mama feel nice. Sleep well, Baby.
She slept through much of the massage, and upon emerging from the room after the massage, stretched luxuriously and smiled sleepily.
I think she'll be back.