That's Not Your Water

Britt posted a very funny story yesterday about her husband (a long time ago, in a galaxy far, far, away, and while in a drunken stupor) peeing in their closet. I snorted with laughter and, in the comments section, promised to tell my own embarrassing pee story. (And yes, the picture to the left is me, pregnant with the twins, on bed rest. Ah, those were the days...)

Pregnancy does funny things to us ladies. Twin pregnancies will just screw. you. up. Since there were two babies, rather than just one, all stuffed up in there, I looked bigger than my actual pregnancy date. This also meant that my bladder was the size of a walnut - at the five month mark! So you can understand why at seven-and-a-half months, I had no bladder to speak of. I seriously thought about investing in adult diapers.

The month before my labor was induced I was placed on bed rest, meaning I couldn't get out of the bed unless I wanted to shower or use the toilet. As you can imagine, I was peeing quite a bit and was holding out for as long as possible so that I wasn't up and down all day. When I finally couldn't stand the pressure any longer, I would ungracefully roll off the bed and waddle into the bathroom, all the while doing a very ungainly pregnant-lady-pee-pee dance. It was horrifying. Thank the gods for elastic maternity pants.

On September 13th, I was admitted to the hospital because I had developed preeclampsia and my OB/GYN wanted to monitor the twins' heartbeats as well as my liver. My stay was rather ho-hum until my second night there when I had, as usual, held the pee for as long as I could. I was not looking forward to waddling down the hall to the community bathroom. Just as I reached the door to my room, I felt it. Liquid was rushing down my legs and I was horrified, convinced my water had just broken. The liquid didn't smell like pee, didn't look like pee in the dim light, and it didn't feel like I was peeing. I was convinced I was having the twins right then and there in the basement of that hospital in that crappy room. The liquid just kept coming, and dribbling, and gushing down my legs. Think Austin Powers. "Evacuation com.... Evacu..... Evacuation comp...." Yeah.

I was hollering to the nurse's station next door, I think my water just broke! Or I just peed myself! Is it my water?!? Did my water just break?!? I think it's my water! It doesn't feel like I peed! The nurse just shook her head and said, You just peed, darlin'.

Oh, I was mortified. There was this trained, educated nurse cleaning up my pee while I just stood there in complete shock. I waddled on down the hall, leaving a trail of pee footprints behind me, to the community shower and washed away my embarrassing indiscretion and slunked (as much as a 7-and-a-half-month pregnant-with-twins woman can slink) back into my room knowing I would no longer wait until the last minute to pee.

I'm sure those nurses still talk about me to that day. Do ya'll remember that woman who was convinced her water broke?!? And it was really her pee?!? I swear, I was cleanin' that stuff up for at least an hour! You'd've thought it was Lake Lanier! Hee hee!