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postpartum demons

today my mom, nola and i visited our friendly neighborhood faith healer.

okay, so she's not really in the neighborhood anymore because we moved. and it's not like we just visit her for this reason because she's actually a family friend (i think my folks helped her and her husband find work when they made the big move from the philippines back in the '70s). but today we went to her for a very specific reason.

after paul was born, she told my mom to bring me by her house. i expected a massage (always a nice thing) because this faith healer also does that -- in fact, when i was a kid, we always went to see her when we were sick because she would do a great vicks rubdown that always had us up and running within a day or so. any aches and pains? off we'd go. my mother's sisters would go see her, too, whenever they or their children were feeling less than great. so. shortly before i was set to go back to work, we went to see her. i was pretty much back to prepreg size (except the girls, of course) but i still couldn't really wear much of my regular clothes because my shape was rather different. she sized me up, had me lie down on the floor on my side, and she STOOD on my hip. then she made me lie down on the other side and proceeded to stand on the other hip. had to help move everything back into place, she said.

when i got home, i was elated to see i could wear my old jeans.

this time around my mom asked her when was the earliest we should come by. (i've said this before: my mom has issues with me being fat.) a month post-birth, she was told.

after one month and two days, i was back on my spot on the floor. this time, however, she did not step on me. (i was rather disappointed.) but she did practically kneel on me. she commented to my mother that i wasn't very big. (a compliment? to my mom, maybe.) she then wrapped my waist in a long piece of cloth and knotted it tightly to cow the flesh into submission.

when i stood up, i was amused to realize i felt taller. but that may have been due to the fact that i was wearing clogs, and well, she's a tiny 75-year-old filipino lady.

before the... i don't even know what to call it... massage?... we did the regular faith-healery thing. candles, flaming spoons, wax shapes in water, prayers, crucifixes, blowing on my head through a piece of old crocheted lace, comparisons of the lengths of fingers, the whole nine yards. after the massage, she did the same thing for nola (but nola's session was much shorter because she didn't have any demons inhabiting her tiny body -- i, however, had five.).

when i was younger, she once attributed a rash to the tiny demons in chicken and shellfish. as chicken was the only meat i was eating back then, i forced myself to eat hamburgers instead. mmm, western bacon cheeseburgers. the rash went away, but man, i got kind of fat.

we'll have to see how well this works. honestly, i'm not expecting much because i'm still carrying quite a bit of excess stuff, but hey, it's an experience.



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