When My Water Broke
** The following is not for the faint of heart. Or, you know, men who will be scarred by me discussing feminine type things**
For some reason, the title of this post sounds like a Hallmark movie. "When my water broke, the tale of a young man who falls in love with a girl up the river, only to have his heart broken."
Spoiler alert: water breakage isn't a Hallmark movie.
Second spoiler alert: This story is kind of gross, so maybe don't read it if you aren't ready for that.
When I was in birthing class, our instructor suggested we carry puppy pee pads (the kind you use to train sweet little dogs who can't quite get the 'go outside' concept') everywhere with us when we hit 34 weeks. 34 weeks. Seems early, doesn't it?
I sort of wrote off this advice for the most part, after all, didn't people keep telling me that only a small percentage of women's water actually breaks before labor? Like a weirdly small percentage in comparison to the portrayal in Hollywood (looking at you, Phoebe and Rachel). I was definitely not going to be one of the small percent.
As I went past my due date, I started to take it a little more seriously. At home, I just sat on blankets, but when in the car I started putting down a pee pad, since I like my car free of essence de amniotic fluid. I wasn't worried... even if my water did break, I was pretty convinced it would be a trickle, affording me plenty of warning to get clear of anything valuable.
I know what you're hoping... you're hoping this story is going somewhere fun wherein I ruin my sister's couch in an epic and Hollywood-worthy giggle montage.
It doesn't.
There wasn't anything too alarming or hilarious about my water breaking. I had been home all day, I was 4 days past my due date and had been feeling pretty yucky most of the day. I had been feeling ok in the morning... so ok that I made a peanut butter pie and had it chilling in the fridge for when I mustered up the energy to go snag a slice. My husband came home from work, an hour late, to find me watching Bridget Jones Diary (for the first time, I might add) and sitting on the exercise ball, hoping it would make my body feel a little less gross. I asked him to grab me some yogurt, and he departed to the kitchen. As soon as he left, I felt it.
I should note that I didn't really have any issues with incontinence during pregnancy. I hadn't 'snissed' up to this point, so when something wet started coming out of me, I was pretty sure it wasn't urine that had somehow escaped without my knowledge.
It just felt like a bit of water that came from nowhere in particular. I hopped off the exercise ball and hobbled to the bathroom. There was more trickling. Maybe borderline gushing. I took a look at it and noted that it was green. Meconium. Don't think on that too hard or it'll make you nauseous. Here- have a photo to distract you.
'Ok cool,' I thought to myself. I was due to go in for induction the following night, so I was psyched to be getting things started on my own. The trickle seemed to have stopped, so I put a pad on, got up and went out to inform the husband that we would be visiting the hospital early. We decided that I would eat my yogurt while he did the dishes from my pie making (thank you honey). I sat on the exercise ball and ate, feeling butterflies but no contractions yet.
Then there was more gushing. Enough so that I could no longer wear my designated sweatpants to the hospital (maybe don't wear your designated hospital sweats until you actually leave for the hospital). Thanks to my extensive research online about what you might need after birth, I had some lovely adult diapers in my cupboard, so I stuffed my ego into my pocket for later and stepped into one of those bad boys. I know. Birth is so much more glamorous than I expected too.
The thing that surprised me most about the water breaking, other than it actually happening, was that it was quite messy. And it wasn't just messy for a minute, it continued to be messy for the next 24 hours of my labor. There were towels required and changed regularly and I wasn't able to move nearly as much as I had intended to because the fluid just kept coming out. I knew there was a lot in there to keep the tiny human from bouncing around, but for some reason I had thought that it would come out all at once, when the Dr. poked it with the weird thing that looks like a knitting needle.
So there you have it. My water breaking tale. Not good enough to land on an episode of Friends, but maybe good enough to help you feel a little less like panicking when (if) it happens to you.
For some reason, the title of this post sounds like a Hallmark movie. "When my water broke, the tale of a young man who falls in love with a girl up the river, only to have his heart broken."
Spoiler alert: water breakage isn't a Hallmark movie.
Second spoiler alert: This story is kind of gross, so maybe don't read it if you aren't ready for that.
When I was in birthing class, our instructor suggested we carry puppy pee pads (the kind you use to train sweet little dogs who can't quite get the 'go outside' concept') everywhere with us when we hit 34 weeks. 34 weeks. Seems early, doesn't it?
I sort of wrote off this advice for the most part, after all, didn't people keep telling me that only a small percentage of women's water actually breaks before labor? Like a weirdly small percentage in comparison to the portrayal in Hollywood (looking at you, Phoebe and Rachel). I was definitely not going to be one of the small percent.
As I went past my due date, I started to take it a little more seriously. At home, I just sat on blankets, but when in the car I started putting down a pee pad, since I like my car free of essence de amniotic fluid. I wasn't worried... even if my water did break, I was pretty convinced it would be a trickle, affording me plenty of warning to get clear of anything valuable.
I know what you're hoping... you're hoping this story is going somewhere fun wherein I ruin my sister's couch in an epic and Hollywood-worthy giggle montage.
It doesn't.
There wasn't anything too alarming or hilarious about my water breaking. I had been home all day, I was 4 days past my due date and had been feeling pretty yucky most of the day. I had been feeling ok in the morning... so ok that I made a peanut butter pie and had it chilling in the fridge for when I mustered up the energy to go snag a slice. My husband came home from work, an hour late, to find me watching Bridget Jones Diary (for the first time, I might add) and sitting on the exercise ball, hoping it would make my body feel a little less gross. I asked him to grab me some yogurt, and he departed to the kitchen. As soon as he left, I felt it.
I should note that I didn't really have any issues with incontinence during pregnancy. I hadn't 'snissed' up to this point, so when something wet started coming out of me, I was pretty sure it wasn't urine that had somehow escaped without my knowledge.
It just felt like a bit of water that came from nowhere in particular. I hopped off the exercise ball and hobbled to the bathroom. There was more trickling. Maybe borderline gushing. I took a look at it and noted that it was green. Meconium. Don't think on that too hard or it'll make you nauseous. Here- have a photo to distract you.
'Ok cool,' I thought to myself. I was due to go in for induction the following night, so I was psyched to be getting things started on my own. The trickle seemed to have stopped, so I put a pad on, got up and went out to inform the husband that we would be visiting the hospital early. We decided that I would eat my yogurt while he did the dishes from my pie making (thank you honey). I sat on the exercise ball and ate, feeling butterflies but no contractions yet.
Then there was more gushing. Enough so that I could no longer wear my designated sweatpants to the hospital (maybe don't wear your designated hospital sweats until you actually leave for the hospital). Thanks to my extensive research online about what you might need after birth, I had some lovely adult diapers in my cupboard, so I stuffed my ego into my pocket for later and stepped into one of those bad boys. I know. Birth is so much more glamorous than I expected too.
The thing that surprised me most about the water breaking, other than it actually happening, was that it was quite messy. And it wasn't just messy for a minute, it continued to be messy for the next 24 hours of my labor. There were towels required and changed regularly and I wasn't able to move nearly as much as I had intended to because the fluid just kept coming out. I knew there was a lot in there to keep the tiny human from bouncing around, but for some reason I had thought that it would come out all at once, when the Dr. poked it with the weird thing that looks like a knitting needle.
So there you have it. My water breaking tale. Not good enough to land on an episode of Friends, but maybe good enough to help you feel a little less like panicking when (if) it happens to you.
