Saturday, May 2, 2009

I'd fire my bladder but I can't transplant it

And I had to go to the ER for such antics, but only because the Dr's office was closed on a Friday afternoon! I was getting an oil change on the mom-bus and just sitting in the waiting area. I kept feeling like something was leaking randomly. It was a bit unnerving. I called my friend and she said I needed to call the doctor to be doubly sure that it wasn't an amniotic leak. The office was closed and the answering service had the nurse call me back. She told me that I should go to the ER to get checked. So I made a round of calls to make sure Clone got picked up from school, let Devildog know where I was heading, a friend to ride with me in case they kept me so she could drive my van home, and then a slew of friends to ask them to pray for us. Off I went, and was pretty much whisked in there and taken care of fairly quickly. Apparently ER's don't really like delivering babies - term or otherwise. Go figure. They did the pH swab test - negative. They did a urinalysis - clear. They did an ultrasound - and because of liability can't tell me ANY thing. She wasn't even allowed to show me the screen. I still have to wait till NEXT Friday the 8th to have the official scan. She did say that the baby has a strong heartbeat and the discharge report says that its around 150 beats per minute. She technically wasn't even allowed to say that but because I was feeling movement she felt safe to say that much. The official diagnosis is "stress incontinence". So basically the magic numbers of Baby #4, and 30-something Mom equals a bladder that said "screw you, and while we're at it, pee on ya too". Basically my bladder has decided it's no longer willing to hold its liquids and seal the exit till otherwise instructed. I get to keep my drawers lined and up the ante on the Kegels.

My poor husband was completely unnerved while he was at work and my friend Persnickety went with me while I went to get checked. I feel foolish for the ordeal, but it's far better to be safe than sorry. Persnickety delivered her 5 year old at 23 weeks and had been leaking fluid for a week prior and didn't realize it. I didn't want to do the same thing, especially since I'm 19 weeks. She also has a heart condition, and teased me saying she wasn't going to let me live down this adventure. Her commentary was "I go to the ER because my heart decides to stop functioning like it's supposed to, and YOU go to the ER because you wet your pants." We've known each other since 9th grade and teasing is nothing new to our friendship. Once again, I live up to the subtitle of my blog - Entertainment at my expense. At least I was able to entertain the ER staff. Nothing like yet another cranky patient to add to their day. I prefer to leave them smirking at the antics and commentary. Besides Persnickety and I hadn't seen each other in a while, so you know me, the drama queen, had to get her "Snick fix" and we needed to feed each other's snark. ANY excuse for a party right? Or in Persnickety's case, a colorful and descriptive blog post.
We're very relieved that it's this *lovely* stuff and not anything worse.


Jackie said...

I'm so glad you and the baby are ok. I would agree that it's better to get it checked out.

Kristin said...


That's all I'm going to say. Because we talked last night and laughed SO hard.

Mrs. A. said...

a bladder that said "screw you, and while we're at it, pee on ya too".


Empathizin', sympathizin', at nearly 46, I've recently entered the cough at your own risk stage.

On a serious note, I had a reverse experience of sorts, rather humiliating. I was in labor with my second child and felt a "trickle." It wasn't one of those gully-washing wooshes. I told the nurse my water had broke and she decided I'd made water of another kind and placed one of those strips you mentioned on my body. Well na-na-na-na-na, it was, too, my water that broke.

Godspeed on bundle of joy number 4. I envy you in the nicest way. I would have liked to have more kids, but am very content at this point to wait for grandbabies.