I had a very strange experience yesterday at my first-ever acupuncture appointment (a Hail Mary attempt at moving my placenta). When I’d talked to the acupuncturist on the phone, she said she’d worked with placenta positioning before and seemed fine with having me in. But when I arrived at her home yesterday afternoon, she said she’d actually been feeling uneasy about it because she felt it would be a waste of my money—if I weren’t so far along in my pregnancy, there’d be more chance of the upward-pulling energy having an effect. Furthermore, she’d double-booked my appointment. To apologize, she said she’d do a basic stress-relieving session at her kitchen table for no charge while her other patient was having his full treatment.
So that’s how I found myself with five needles in my head, sitting at this woman’s kitchen table while a housekeeper tidied the counters and a young man (her son?) talked on a cell phone in another room. Before beginning the needling, however, the acupuncturist asked me to show her my tongue. “Oh,” she said in surprise. “That’s not what I expected at all.” She had me stick out my tongue again. “It’s so red,” she said, her voice again full of surprise. “I would have expected you to be more fatigued, more irritated.” She seemed unable to explain my mysterious tongue.
Anyway. That was my acupuncture experience. So much for Hail Mary passes. (Of course, if my ultrasound on Monday shows movement, who’s to say it didn’t do some good?...) In the meantime, my doctor told me this morning not to leave town. Four weeks to go.