There is one teeny, weeny thing that I absolutely, 100% do regret though (and my mother is frowning at me from heaven right now, saying "I told you so"). When I was 28 (1998), and enjoying my recent (and only for a short time) 100 pound weight-loss, one of my girlfriends (who shall remain nameless GA) talked me into accompanying her to a tattoo parlour so that she could do something wild and crazy since she had turned, or was turning 30. So I went, I supported, I got bored and suddenly, I thought it was important for me to get my own tattoo. So I did.
|This was my randomly chosen tattoo. Her name is Heloise.|
Notice my newly emerging collar bone as well:)
So this tattoo has been the bane of my existence for many years. I tried to but couldn't cover it for my wedding. I spent the whole church portion clutching a shawl around my shoulders so it couldn't be seen by my already disapproving priest. I was married in a Catholic church and he knew that my hubby and I were living in sin prior to our nuptials. Sight of the tattoo would have further cemented his opinion that I was nothing but a wanton hussy steering my husband into Satan's clutches. Throughout my wedding day, there was a little voice inside my head saying "You shouldn't have gotten the tattoo". In actuality, the voice wasn't inside my head, but my mother's constant whispers during photos, leaning into talk to me at the head table, assisting me in the bathroom. You get the picture. And she was absolutely right!
But I do have it, so what do I do? Well many of you are probably thinking I should go for laser removal or perhaps try the new tattoo removal cream available at Walmart and other fine stores. I am doing neither. Instead, another girlfriend has talked me into actually getting it made bigger. What? That's right. Since I don't want to undergo laser removal, and am not going to risk using a cream that could make it look even worse, I have instead opted to go the route of making my mother completely turn over and jump out of her grave. I am going to get my tattoo touched up with a banner and a lovely flower added to it which will incorporate the butterfly motif. Inside the banner will be my son's name. If I have to have my body permanently scarred, the scar might as well be beautiful.
I have actually gone for a consultation with a tattoo artist who whipped up a drawing for me that was really quite lovely. The banner and flower are about three times bigger than my current butterfly. It's gonna cost $140.00, so I had to talk to my husband about it first. I was nervous beginning that conversation and he must have sensed my unease because when I blurted out what I planned on doing, he let out a HUGE breath and said, "Whew, I thought you were going to say you wanted another baby." He was quite supportive about me permanently scarring my body further, and thankful that we are not having another baby.
So the only thing left to decide is when to get this master piece permanently etched into my right pectoral. Well, after taking all things into consideration, I have decided to get this tattoo when I hit my Onederwall. I have not given myself any kind of weight-loss incentives to date. And honestly, I'm not sure if this really is an incentive. I mean, I have sensory issues and my first tattoo was mighty uncomfortable. The forty minutes it took to get the tattoo done was like nails on a chalk board for me. By my calculations, I have until spring to get my head around this. My conscience, AKA my mother (yes we still speak regularly), tells me that maybe I should rethink this, but my heart tells me that this is the way I want to honour the love and devotion I have for my son. My conscience and heart constantly fight, and nine out of ten times, my heart wins.