Not for the Faint Hearted

Please qualify yourself under one of the following categories:

Are you are at all squeamish about bodily functions? Does the thought of cleaning up a pet's mess mess you up? Then you may want to skip this post.

Are you are the sort of person who can sit through the entire infomercial about full body cleanses and the 45 pounds of poo they found in John Wayne's colon? Carry on, my strong-stomached friend. Or if you've been quietly willing some sort of misery-inducing equalizing factor to visit my so far rainbow- and puppy-filled pregnancy, you might like what's coming too.

If you're somewhere in between these two, carry on with caution, maybe reading through your fingers as if it were a scary movie... that's what I did.

So. Last week or so has been a new milestone in this whole experience. Alluded to, sort of foreshadowed movie-style, by Swapna over Thanksgiving weekend when she said to no one in particular that "pregnancy constipation is really a problem", I discovered that perhaps my cross to bear might be a giant bloated tummy and the depressing inability to poop. Not total inability, mind you, but a depressing bout of both delayed and lackluster performances. Sort of like Michael Vick going from one of the most promising quarterbacks in the league to being banned from the NFL. (I made that up... is he really banned? I know he's in jail... but things aren't that bad!)

I was a superstar poo'er. A girl we knew in college used to call people in to try and show off the results of her newly cleansed colon. I was along that line, although not that crass and public. All star stuff you should call mom about. But all that's gone now.

Lately I've been battling some espantosa horrible gas that puffs out my stomach about as much as a 5 pound baby. (which, at about 12 weeks, is frightening) Pants that fit previously are suddenly tight enough to merit unzipping, and I can play my exposed stomach like a timpani drum. Sounds sort of like a ghatam. Ping-parap-pararap-ping! So I started eating rolaids and bananas. Which both, while nice stomach comforting foods, are constipating. Whoops, didn't realize that. Bring on more gas; much more more more embarrassing, noxious gas, more obnoxious bloats, and these really amazing digestional cramps.

And nothing seemed to help! I understand that the digestive system slows down thanks to progesterone produced during pregnancy. I understand constipation is something that takes a few days to work through. But I wanted relief NOW from gassy belly. So two nights worth of Milk of Magnesium, fruit juices, prayer, and a worried, semi-disgusted yet caring husband led up to this morning's happenings.

First off, thank GOD I stayed home from work today. (a clue to anyone squeamish to leave this off NOW) My job at National City Mortgage is currently in training mode, so we sit all day in a classroom at computers learning about mortgages and how to deal with depressed and angry callers. We sit all day. That may also be part of the problem. I digress. There is some sort of virus slowly making it's way around the training room, and I wanted to try and head it off by taking a break and getting some sleep. So slept in, woke up leisurely, and had a soy milk coffee.

Maybe my body has been missing the supine position in which I'd normally check mail, read, and drink coffee. Or perhaps the radiation and pressure from the computer on a pillow on my lower abdomen has some effect that I've been missing, sitting so attentively (ha!) in Customer Service University. But whatever it was, I got the "urge" - the telltale urge to go, and so to the loo I went.

AND HOW I WENT. It was one of those issues where you have to draw a bath afterwards. Without being terribly graphic, let me say it was a.) painful, b.) nauseating, and c.) seemingly without end. It was not a situation where I was in control of things - I could feel my abdomen sort of contract in a very natural yet not-my-doing sort of way, and then voila! I had gone. And none of the funny business from before - it was call-in-your-roommate worthy. That happened like 4 times. The first time, I got done and started the bath, thinking "good Lord, that's uncomfortable." (Perhaps at the moments my exact thoughts were more like, "Ahhhhhhhh, #$&!^@#$!") But as I started the bath, the "urge" came back. Subtle... like a little kid who really wants to tell you something, but knows not to interrupt. Round two brought thoughts to my head of "how can I handle natural labor if I can't even poop without feeling pitiful?" Then I pulled it together a little bit, and started a sort of relaxation breathing that one of my books suggests. Then things got better, and those weird automatic abdominal surges came back, and a few minutes later, I was all done, in the bathtub, and feeling MUCH MUCH MUCH better.
(I didn't even need the bath afterwards, but it just looked so warm and inviting...)

So there you go! I weighed myself (in honor of John Wayne) after the whole ordeal and am proud to say I'm holding steady at about 148 lbs, which is just about where the midwife weighed me in on the 14th of December.

Lessons learned? Mind your bananas. Don't OD on Rolaids. And let your body do what it has to do... there is no set "normal" as far as poo, so as long as you're getting your fiber and getting enough "time supine", I suppose life will be fine.

Now, what to have for lunch? :D