During a pregnant pause, she gambles on relaxation

How we ended up at Elemis, the spa at Mohegan Sun, had more to do with the process of elimination and a sense of humor about this last-minute fling than anything more purposeful. The Berkshires and Canyon Ranch: Been there, done that, loved it; let's try something else. Avanyu Spa at The Equinox in Vermont: sold out. The Stoweflake Mountain Resort & Spa in Vermont: a pre-pay, no-cancellation policy that would be a drag if baby or blizzard intervened. At least that's what I was told initially. In a follow-up call, I was told they had a 24-hour cancellation policy -- but by then it was too late.

Meanwhile, I had heard of Elemis, an international chain with only three spas in the United States (Mohegan Sun, Las Vegas, and Coral Gables, Fla.). The spa was less than two hours from the maternity ward, and besides, what better place for the hungry insomniac I had become? The casinos are open 24/7 (and some areas are even smoke-free). There are 24 restaurants, including Krispy Kreme, Ben & Jerry's, Summer Shack, and Tuscany, a Todd English joint. And compared with the rest of the crowd, in my track pants I could look positively dressed up.

So we headed south, and soon I was wearing a fluffy white robe and spa sandals, shuffling into my pregnancy massage.

I was expecting a table with a doughnut hole in it; I dreamed of being able to spend an hour on my belly after so many months of not being able to. But the table was standard, and Lenny, my masseur, gave me a stack of pillows, then told me to hop up and lie on my side. He left the room for a minute, and trying to hoist myself up, I felt like I was in an "I Love Lucy" skit. The massage was very relaxing, especially all the attention he paid to my aching legs. Yet I could not keep my mind from wandering back to my last massage, an athletic shiatsu at the Hotel Principe di Savoia in Milan, performed by a muscular Italian on a floor mat. Instead of being compressed with limbs at odd angles, Lenny gently kneaded my body, propped by pillows, as a Native American version of "Amazing Grace" wafted through a speaker.