In a previous life, I was a nurse.
I know, I know, it's hard to believe that I was, at one point, ever in charge of keeping people alive, but it's the truth. Got the fancy diploma to prove it!
In a previous life, I was also pregnant. And, even with my nursing training, I was an idiot.
(try not to look so surprised)
Here's my favorite embarrassing pregnancy story.
I have the approximate dimensions of a daddy long-legs spider while gestating, which means that I'm all baby with spindly legs attached. I have, you see, no appreciable torso. Which means that the moment I am five minutes pregnant with child, I look about five months pregnant.
It's not, as you imagine, particularly flattering.
However, this is not about my relative beauty while pregnant. This is about my idiocy.
When I was actually five months pregnant (looked about nine months), I went out to a nice dinner with some friends. Because I was pregnant and, therefore had to pee a lot, I went to the bathroom something like 700 times during our hour-long dinner.
By number 37, I realized that my underwear was, well, damp. As in, it looked like I might possibly have broken my amniotic sac. Because I was pregnant, chock-full of hormones, and nonsensical, I decided that it MUST have been my amniotic sac that burst and demanded that my husband take me to the maternity ward to get checked out.
He was most decidedly non-plussed by this idea.
Dutifully, however, he took me to the OB Ward where I changed into a gown -- feeling silly the whole time -- and got strapped onto those baby monitors. Well, the fetus didn't appreciate this and spent the next two hours kicking angrily at the monitors.
Eventually, the doctor came in and I got that labor spotlight directly focused on my crotchal region as he examined my cervix for any dilation and took a swab of fluid to see if I was, indeed, leaking amniotic fluid.
I sat in that lonely hospital room, praying that I hadn't broken my bag of waters, for I don't even know how long. It felt like hours.
Finally, finally, the doctor returned and informed me that no, in fact, I had not broken my amniotic sac. That the baby appeared to be healthy and happy (albeit still kicking the shit out of the monitor on my belly) and I was free to go home.
He added, as I wept tears of relief, that "it was probably just urine," in my underpants.
I went to the OB Ward and discovered that I was incontinent?
Way to take shameful to a whole new level.
I shuffled out of there, grateful that I hadn't broken my amniotic sac, and more than slightly embarrassed that I'd just been told by medical professionals that I peed my pants.
Worst part of it? I did it again a couple of months later.
Gotta love parenting for discarding any remaining scraps of dignity I had left.
All right, dish, what are your pregnancy horror stories?
Image via benklocek/Flickr