Thar she blows!
Oh my Lord. Last night was something I never want to experience again in all my life, but that is most likely wishful thinking. My night started off well enough, I had a nice dinner with my husband and then headed to choir practice. On the way to practice I had the car windows down, both for my own enjoyment and...well... there is no delicate way to put this: because pregnancy just happens to give me wicked gas. Once I got to practice I tried walking around a little before we began singing to relieve the 'pressure', but it didn't help to much. Or, at all. I could only hope that the next hour and a half wouldn't be that bad. I am so naive.
I started getting more pains once practice had begun and so I left the room at one point and went to the bathroom...where NOTHING happened of course. I stayed in the hallway for a little while and willed my body to make some noise for God's sake, but it held a silent protest. So, I ventured back into the practice room and about 15 minutes later the pain and pressure were back with a vengeance, so again I left the room and begged my body to give me some relief. My body only laughed at me while my intestines strengthened their death grip on the gas that was mercifully trying to escape my body. Again, nothing would happen when I would leave the room, but of course everything wanted to happen when I was actually in the room with 20 other people. I could not keep leaving the room every 15 minutes because people would really start questioning what was wrong with me, so I stayed put for the rest of practice. Only, by the end of practice my intestines hurt so badly I could barely stand up straight. Not to mention, my stomach had expanded to record proportions trying to keep all that gas under wraps, so I was trying to stand up straight (impossible) and suck my stomach in so I wouldn't look 6 months pregnant. And? I don't know if this is common knowledge? But stomachs don't like to be sucked in when they are full of a) gas b) baby. I was in pure agony. Finally practice ended and I could get in my car and go home.
The ride home was torture. Every bump that I drove over aggravated the pains and made me want to cry. There were times that I didn't think I could push my foot down on the gas (HA!) pedal because it hurt my insides so badly. I made it home, walked into the house with my pants completely undone, and promptly went into whine mode. I took my pants off and began to walk in circles around our bar while Jim patted my back. I managed to rip a few, but it did ABSOLUTELY NOTHING to relieve the pain that had settled into my stomach region. Finally I got down on my hands and knees and just moaned. Surprisingly? That didn't help either.
Once I realized that pretty much nothing was going to help I decided to hobble upstairs, put on pants that had the strechiest elastic ever, go outside and walk around. I stayed out for about 25 minutes and only managed to fart about 3 times. That ratio - farting approximately every 8 minutes - was not that great. I needed more! Jim was so patient with me and listened to me whine and bitch the entire time I was outside. I grudgingly decided to go back inside, because it was getting late, and walk around our bar a little more. At one point during my bar walk I tried rolling around the floor which is supposed to help with gas pains, but I couldn't even convince my body to roll over, it hurt so badly. Again I got down on my hands and knees and turned my bar walk into a bar crawl (witty) and was able to squeeze about one more fart out that didn't amount to diddly squat. After awhile I just gave up and went up to bed. I tossed and turned for quite sometime before I was able to go to sleep. This morning I woke up completely refreshed. Oh, wait. No I didn't.
Coincidentally, I started a food journal yesterday because I have had these problems in the past, though never ever to that extent. Everything but pure fiber is now banned from my diet.
I started getting more pains once practice had begun and so I left the room at one point and went to the bathroom...where NOTHING happened of course. I stayed in the hallway for a little while and willed my body to make some noise for God's sake, but it held a silent protest. So, I ventured back into the practice room and about 15 minutes later the pain and pressure were back with a vengeance, so again I left the room and begged my body to give me some relief. My body only laughed at me while my intestines strengthened their death grip on the gas that was mercifully trying to escape my body. Again, nothing would happen when I would leave the room, but of course everything wanted to happen when I was actually in the room with 20 other people. I could not keep leaving the room every 15 minutes because people would really start questioning what was wrong with me, so I stayed put for the rest of practice. Only, by the end of practice my intestines hurt so badly I could barely stand up straight. Not to mention, my stomach had expanded to record proportions trying to keep all that gas under wraps, so I was trying to stand up straight (impossible) and suck my stomach in so I wouldn't look 6 months pregnant. And? I don't know if this is common knowledge? But stomachs don't like to be sucked in when they are full of a) gas b) baby. I was in pure agony. Finally practice ended and I could get in my car and go home.
The ride home was torture. Every bump that I drove over aggravated the pains and made me want to cry. There were times that I didn't think I could push my foot down on the gas (HA!) pedal because it hurt my insides so badly. I made it home, walked into the house with my pants completely undone, and promptly went into whine mode. I took my pants off and began to walk in circles around our bar while Jim patted my back. I managed to rip a few, but it did ABSOLUTELY NOTHING to relieve the pain that had settled into my stomach region. Finally I got down on my hands and knees and just moaned. Surprisingly? That didn't help either.
Once I realized that pretty much nothing was going to help I decided to hobble upstairs, put on pants that had the strechiest elastic ever, go outside and walk around. I stayed out for about 25 minutes and only managed to fart about 3 times. That ratio - farting approximately every 8 minutes - was not that great. I needed more! Jim was so patient with me and listened to me whine and bitch the entire time I was outside. I grudgingly decided to go back inside, because it was getting late, and walk around our bar a little more. At one point during my bar walk I tried rolling around the floor which is supposed to help with gas pains, but I couldn't even convince my body to roll over, it hurt so badly. Again I got down on my hands and knees and turned my bar walk into a bar crawl (witty) and was able to squeeze about one more fart out that didn't amount to diddly squat. After awhile I just gave up and went up to bed. I tossed and turned for quite sometime before I was able to go to sleep. This morning I woke up completely refreshed. Oh, wait. No I didn't.
Coincidentally, I started a food journal yesterday because I have had these problems in the past, though never ever to that extent. Everything but pure fiber is now banned from my diet.
posted by Al at 2:35 PM
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