The title of this post is a direct quote from my doctor today. I’d say it gives a fairly reliable hint at the contents to follow. Consider yourself warned of impending instances of TMI.
So, a little back story….
A post I’ve been meaning to write for a while falls along the lines of ‘X amount of things no one warned me about pregnancy’. Toward the top of that list would be vaginal discharge. Now we, as ladies are all used to the moistness that comes with possessing a vagina. I was not, however prepared for feeling like I’d peed my pants at various point of the day. Worst still I was not expecting to have to cautiously sniff my underwear to make sure I hadn’t, in fact wet myself.
This had been going on for a while and I didn’t think too much of it. I have managed thus far to avoid some other very unpleasant symptoms of pregnancy so I thought this was my lot. Then I clicked on a ‘random fact’ generator on my pregnancy app this morning 5 am and was plunged into a pit of anxiety by the following statement:
‘An increase in vaginal discharge in pregnancy is normal however if the discharge is thin, bloody or watery you should contact your healthcare provider.’
Thin? Watery? You mean like the completely clear stuff that is leading my to change my pants 3 times a day? Oh, shizzle*.
Dr Google presented me with two options. A. A vaginal infection or B. Leakage of amniotic fluid. Oh, fish sticks.
An afternoon visit to the doctor was arranged. Dr Porn was busy with another patient so I saw a whispery female doctor, whose English was good and who didn’t stumble over words like ‘vagina’. She confirmed Dr Googles two possible diagnosis’. I was led into small room with a very fancy electrical, stirrup chair and treated to my first vaginal exam since the days of dildo cam. Ouch.
I was then herded in for a quick ultrasound where I was informed the baby was fine and a good size (1.5 kilos) but my womb seemed a little small which might indicate I was leaking fluid. Oh, flicking help.
However, after a short sojourn in the waiting room while the lab analysed my inner juices I was brought back into the Dr’s office.
‘Congratulations, you have a vaginal infection. You are not leaking amniotic fluid.’
An interesting way to impart the news but relief was felt, nonetheless. A short course of antibiotics and some vagina bullets and my snatch should be back to it’s happy, less watery self. Phew.
In other, non-vagina related news…
Holy crap I am 29 weeks pregnant and into my third trimester. I think in my last post I was prattling on about how easy it was and how much I was enjoying it. What a difference a trimester makes.
WW informed me today I am starting to ‘waddle like a penguin’. Sexy, huh?
I think my boobs have finally stopped growing for the moment. Although that might be because they are restricted to the point of inhibiting growth in a far-to-small bra.
I have gained 12 kilos. Oops. But I still want more cake.
My 7 month ultrasound went by with lots more ‘bokatid’ (normals), everything is on track with our not so little one.
Today my back ached for the first time in over 6 months but seems better now, so hopefully Squirt was just lying in an awkward position.
It is increasingly difficult to stay asleep. I have to pee every hour or so and then take 4 minutes to rebuild my nest of some 50 pillows.
My brain is mush. I can’t speak, type, spell or read anything other than a kids book. Plus I can’t remember anything. I’ve been meaning to go to the dentist for ages.
IT IS TOO DAMN FREAKING HOT. I have the aircon on full blast plus a fan and I’m sleeping, sweatily under our thinnest blanket while WW shivers under one of our warmest next to me.
I’d like to celebrate a little that I have neither piles nor constipation but I’m afraid of sod’s law coming to get me. I’d like to credit my diet with this amazing feat but I’m not sure if cake and biscuits are widely known for their laxative qualities.
Hello hormones. My happy pregnant days seem to have been a second trimester symptom. I have shouted at my students more in the last week than the last two years combined. Although that might just be because they are being little…boogers.
I found a rare bonus of being a lesbian. I signed up for a ‘let’s get ready to push that watermelon out of our lemon hole’ class for when I am (hopefully) back in the UK. Then they told me they don’t allow partners to attend. Huh? Upon investigation I was informed this is because some women felt uncomfortable doing a movement-based class in front of men. Also it made it easy to discuss things, and here I quote. ‘that might make the guys uncomfortable’. Hello 1950s. You think hearing about birth is uncomfortable? Wait until you’re watching your baby tearing its way out of your screaming, cursing, pooping other half. The bonus is that WW is allowed to attend as she is a tough WOMAN and can therefore cope with discussions of pooping, ripping and tunnel sized vaginas.
Oh and WW got her visa…did I already tell you that? Hooray, or hooray again!
Anyhoo, I think that’s all for now. Take care!
*WW is deeply concerned about our son learning my potty mouth in-utero so I am making an effort to clean up my vocab.