Tattoo — a fear conquered

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by Melissa Linebrink

I am inked.

Yes, the woman who hates anything to do with needles now has
a tattoo.

And let me be the first to say, it wasn’t as bad as I
thought it was going to be.

I had been on the fence about getting a tattoo for about
five months. My husband got one for his 36^th birthday – his gift to
himself (I personally think he was going through some sort of mid-30s crisis).
After I saw his, my desire to have one grew and grew.

So, in the past five months, I have talked to my husband, my
dad and my brother – all of them have tattoos. I researched various designs. I
even walked into a tattoo parlor to see what the process is all about.

I don’t know why I wanted a tattoo. It was just on my “bucket
list” of things I wanted to do before I died.

But the main concern I had was the pain that comes with
getting a tattoo.  Keep in mind, the day
I had the twins, it took the anesthesiologist almost an hour to get an IV in my
wrist. It took him another 30 minutes to get the epidural in my back. And, when
I had Ethan, it took three nurses before they finally were able to get an IV in
my arm.
People told me it felt like rubbing a tin can lid over your skin. Others told
me the end result felt like bad sunburn.

The only sensation I didn’t want to feel was a needle being
stabbed into my skin. Thankfully, getting a tattoo only penetrates the first
and second layers of skin – whereas a needle – ouch – goes in a lot further.

But, after eating dinner with a good friend, and downing two
weak drinks, off we went to Eclectic Tattoo Co. in North Ridgeville. We chatted
with the tattoo artist for about 10 minutes, and then I decided right then and
there to go for the ink.

I picked a blue flower – it doesn’t hold any meaning to me
other than I love flowers.

While he drew the flower, I paced back and forth, and tried
to keep my dinner in my stomach.

Finally, he put me in the chair and he started on my tattoo.

I am not going to lie and say it didn’t hurt – sure it hurt,
but I knew the tattoo artist wasn’t out to inflict pain on purpose. I knew that
the end result would be beautiful – and it is.

When he finished the tattoo – which only took 25 minutes – I
got up and looked at my hands which were covered in sweat from nerves. But
then, I looked in the mirror and saw the most beautiful work of art on my body.

It’s still healing, but I now understand why they say
tattooing is addicting. I am already planning to get three butterflies
fluttering around the flower symbolizing my three kids.