We're at 33 weeks now - things are moving right along, and that's good. I would guess I'm at the, "I'm tired and uncomfortable all the time" stage of pregnancy and getting anxious for Brynn to make her debut.
I'll put a disclaimer right here - the post you are about to read is graphic and honest. If you don't want some personal information about me and pregnancy, stop reading now. Okay, fair is fair; you want to read and I want to write, we're in agreement you will now be privvy to some privy.
Last week Thursday, June 4, I noticed on two occasions that my pants were wet. Not dripping like I just exited a pool wet, but wet. I am 31 years old and I know what it feels like to urinate. Not having the typical, "I just peed" sensation and noticing the wetness I thought maybe this was the "my water broke" moment I'd seen on TV and in movies so many times. Which as you know is followed by 10 minutes of contractions and a woman screaming and then they're holding a clean, lovely baby.
Upon leaving the ladies' room, I polled a couple co-workers. "What was it like when your water broke?" "Mine never broke, I had a c-section." "I had contractions and went to the hospital, they broke it for me." Hmm, this was information, that although generously offered, gave little insight. What next? Let's ask my old friend Google. Let's just see what they had to say on the topic of water breaking. Hmm, more ambiguity. I sent a text to Baby Daddy, "wet pants water broke?" He wrote back suggesting I call the doctor. Not wanting to be the lady who thought her water may be breaking and didn't call the doctor, I did. They said, "get to St. Mary's." Apparently the symptoms I described over the phone sounded like water breaking to them. So I call Baby Daddy and my mom and give them the update, my water may have broke and I'm on my way to the hospital. I drive to the hospital in a panic. "Oh no, I don't have an overnight bag, I don't have a car seat, oh no, oh no, what will we do, what if she comes and she's way too little? oh no, oh no." You know all those things that run through your mind, when you feel completely unprepared for something. Not one reassuring thought came to me.
I get to St. Mary's and check in at OB triage two minutes before Baby Daddy (Brandon) arrived.
Once settled into our room, I get a fetal heart rate monitor and contraction monitor attached to my belly. The heart rate is really regular and the nurse said it was just how they like it to be at this stage in the game. She also noticed that I didn't seem to be having any regular contractions, so that was good too. I explain to her that, I felt a bit foolish, but didn't want to really be experiencing labor and not to have gone to be checked out. She told me that was what they had the whole OB triage center for, and that it was better to be safe than sorry.
An hour or so goes by and heart rate and all other vitals still seem to be fine. Nurse explains the test we will be having to know for sure if we are indeed leaking amniotic fluid. A long cotton swab is to be inserted near the cervical opening, held for one minute, and then placed in a solution that will test for amniotic fluid. Hey, being pregnant you get to enjoy more than one encounter of new people and things with your cervical opening (which is just another name for vagina), so this long slender cotton swab didn't seem to pose too much threat.
WHOA!! Hold on a minute! The kind nurse, who works in OB triage, who, I thought, would be more than capable of this cotton swab test - I mean everyone who comes in shows their "goods" right? She goes in for the collection portion of the exam and misses!! I don't know what she hit, my guess had always been that I had exactly 3 holes, but the space that she insisted on poking that swab was not one of them, oh and not just poke but leave there for the requisite ONE minute. I said, "ow!" She said, "oh, there are so many folds."
So many folds? What does that mean? Do I have an abnormal number of folds? Should I be calling the Guinness people? So many like, 7? or 2?
Instead of replacing the swab, we leave this one here and watch all 60 seconds tick by. When she opens the vial of reactant to place my swab in, it's empty! No reactant solution! We need to repeat the swab part of the test! Yay - you can imagine my excitement for the re-test. This time she double checks beforehand and indeed there is reactant in the vial. She also finds the right "spot" with the swab - as I suspected when in the right spot, the swab didn't cause any pain.
I'll mention here that for several days following the poke heard 'round the world, that using the bathroom was quite uncomfortable. Also, I asked Baby Daddy, if indeed my fold situation was unlike others he was familiar with, in his limited experience, and how he was able to locate the appropriate place with such a high degree of accuracy. We determined that at worst he was shooting 60% and the OB nurse had scored 1 out of 2 times, therefore acquiring an overall score of 50%.
So when all was said and done and the swab was placed in the test vial, it did not react and therefore was not amniotic fluid. Which is a relief, because as anxious as we are to meet Baby Brynn, we didn't want it to be quite this soon.
So what was going on? Another 45 minutes go by and the Resident comes in and explains the wetness in my pants may have been an increase in vaginal secretions OR that as baby is getting ready to come out and has moved lower in my pelvis, she can actually hit my bladder, sending pee out that I don't feel as urination. Great, so I peed myself without the sensation of peeing myself. Gross. Will I start shatting myself without the sensation of shatting myself now too? UGH! I am so ready for this to be over, Depends undergarments and back up pants are not something I want to be toting around for the next month.
So while we are still "lost in the folds" ahem, of pregnancy, I'll be updating more of my journey. I hope I've not shared too much or that if I have you've related and chuckled along with me as maybe you or someone close to you has had the same experience.
