The lights have been dimmed and the curtains drawn.
There is pleasant flute music playing in the background and I smell lavender.
I’m trying to quiet my mind.
I feel the warmth of a heat lamp placed directly above my stomach as I lay flat on my back with a circular pillow supporting my knees.
The faint sound of bass rises from the fitness center downstairs and interrupts my thoughts, but only for a moment.
I am careful not to move.
I wish I were getting a massage, but the effects would not be as lasting, instead I have 14 tiny needles in my body; two in each ear, two in each leg, one in each foot, three in my stomach and one in my left wrist. I’m still uncertain of each of their functions, but I trust in the ancient, time-tested technique.
The needles don’t hurt at all, but I feel ridiculous. I will stay like this for 20 minutes.
This is my third treatment, all in an effort to increase blood flow to my uterus, flush out my system and reduce stress and anxiety.
I am optimistic.