I got a tattoo. That's right, I'm pretty gangsta. I decided to go with a pot leaf on my neck. Kidding, I'm kidding. Well, you'll just have to hope I'm kidding, because I can't actually show you my tattoo. It's my daughter's name (and you know I love you, reader o'mine, but there is always the possibility that you are criminally insane) . Anyway, I had the kid write her first and middle names. Then I had the tattoo artist add four shooting stars, which symbolize the four babies I lost to miscarriage before my daughter was born. The stars are emerald green (my daughter's birthstone and - coincidentally - my favorite color), purple, fuchsia, and bright blue. I think I was the tattoo artist's dream come true because my skin is so fair that the ink is pretty vivid in contrast.
Where to put the tattoo was a big decision. She took a lot of time with me and put a stencil on my calf and also on my chest so that I could see how both would look. I momentarily thought of putting it between my shoulder blades, but then I'd never really see it. Ultimately, I decided to have the design etched right near my heart. I was surprisingly calm about the whole thing. I had a little bit of an adrenaline rush right before the needle hit because I didn't really know what to expect, but then I closed my eyes and tried to practice my yoga breathing. You sort of get used to the pain after a few minutes.
I didn't tell my husband ahead of time where I was going. We sort of have a "don't ask, don't tell" policy. I mean, he doesn't ask so I don't tell. He doesn't generally have a big interest in where I'm going and why. I'm not really complaining - I wouldn't want a husband who was all up in my bidness all the time.
My daughter is really curious about the tattoo and wants to see it, but I have to leave the bandage on for a couple hours. She knows it's her name, though. I figure that when she's 13 and screaming at me that I'm the worst mother the world has ever known, I will remind her that no matter what she says, she is forever a part of me. I feel very much at peace with the whole thing, which is weird because I've literally been debating the tattoo/no tattoo issue with myself for years. It means a lot to me to remember the ones I lost, too. Full circle, I suppose.
So, there you have it. Now that I have a tattoo, I'll probably be turning to a life of crime and I'm not sure I'll have time to keep up my blog. But if I do, you know where to find me.