POP GOES THE PELVIS

Get pregnant and the horror stories begin. Some of your closer family members and friends will be all too willing to share with you tales of blood, guts and gore, while others will simply smile, wait for you to give birth and then gab with you about how terrible it was. Still others, like me, are more than willing to give you a candid look inside the world of creating a human. You're welcome.

As I've mentioned a few times, I have been lucky enough to enjoy a relatively pain/symptom free pregnancy. Sure, I struggled with some raging hormones...excessive peeing...and a week or two of being revolted by certain foods...but I dodged the morning sickness, high blood pressure, diabetes and other horrible things some of my mommy friends/family member have not been so lucky to miss. At nearly 35 weeks, I've only gained 16 pounds and have been rather healthy in general. As my due date approaches, I've started to be minorly bothered by some less than comfortable side effects...not being able to bend over...increased constipation...anxiety...but nothing...NOTHING prepared me for what happened on Monday night.

I will preface this by saying it only happens to about 1 percent of pregnant women, so if you're newly expecting or planning to procreate, you will probably avoid this horror.

Monday night was a typical evening of excessive peeing. At about 1am, I woke up for my 17th pee. Getting out of bed in the third trimester is an artform. I usually roll to my hands and knees and back out like a human dump truck. This time, however, when I rolled over, I heard a very loud POP. From my vagina.

I had read that sometimes, when your water breaks, you can hear an audible pop followed by a gush of water. I froze, waiting for the gush in horrified silence...I was 34 weeks to the day and the idea that Baby K could be on her way was terrifying. I thought maybe if I didn't move, she wouldn't either. Instead of a gush of water, however, there came a flood of the most intense, horrific pain I have ever felt.

It radiated from my lady parts to my hips to my legs. If I moved, it was searing. Depsite this, I thought that maybe this sensation was a precursor to the most impressive poop I would ever take. (Not to be gross, but I've had some pretty terrible digestive issues this whole pregnancy.) I limped and sobbed my way silently to the bathroom, trying not to wake up poor Dustin who had to work in a few hours.

Upon closer inspection of myself, there was no blood, no liquid and no poop. I sat on the edge of the tub, trying to fight the urge to pass out or vomit from pain. I wondered if this was labor, but it was so localized...and so not what I had heard labor felt like, that I sort of instinctively knew it wasn't. I took some tylenol (that's how you know it was bad...I've avoided pain killers at all costs) and hobbled my way back into bed.

At the same time this was happening, I was struggling through a mild allergic reaction. I have varying degrees of such reactions and was dealing with what I call the "roaming hives." This is when I get an outbreak of hives but catch it early enough to treat it with benadryl, which results in about five big hives moving around my body. One day they'll be on my arms, then my belly, then my legs, etc. I prefer the roaming hives to the "anchored hives," (another phrase I've coined.) My anchor hives stay in one place for at least two weeks and get as big as dinner plates.

I mention this because I've experienced hives inside of my throat, ears and...ahem...bathing suit area. INSIDE my lady parts. Yeah, sit with THAT pretty image for a sec. Sometimes, these "insidesies hives" (don't think about stealing all my medical terminology, k?) will cause pain. So I lay in bed, crying, cursing my mother for not breast feeding me and therefore forcing me to live with painful allergic reactions.

After a few hours of flopping between sort of sleeping and crying, I woke up the next day after Dustin had left for work to discover I was still in pretty horrible pain. Not wanting to worry Dustin, I downplayed the situation, telling him when he came home for lunch that I had heard a "pop" and was experiencing some pain. Level headed, practical man that he is, he urged I call the doctor.

I'm not SCARED of the doctor, but I don't like going. I know, selfish. But it takes a lot for me to decide to seek care. By the time Tuesday night rolled around, I was practically immobile and couldn't stop crying. Instead of going to the hospital, as Dustin was now pretty much demanding, I told him I'd take more tylenol and wait one more night to see if I got better.

Wednesday morning (yesterday) I reached my breaking point. I couldn't move AT ALL without pretty much screaming. I hadn't slept in two nights. Something was seriously wrong. So, I called my doctor's office and spoke to the on call nurse, explaining my symptoms. She was quiet and told me she needed to talk to the doctor about all of this. I got a call back instructing me to head to Labor and Delivery at my hospital ASAP.

I sat for ten minutes with these directions before calling Dustin and telling him. I cried and begged him not to make me go, that I wasn't ready to give birth...that I felt better (lie.) He smartly and gently ignored me, somehow got my fat ass into the car and took us to the hospital.

I was shaking when we checked in. They were waiting for me, and as it turned out my delivering doctor was actually there. They quickly got me all hooked up with the belly monitors, took my pee and blood pressure and another gallon or so of blood. The wonderful, comforting news was that the baby was fine. Both her heartrate and mine were a bit on the high side, but I was scared out of my mind and in incredible pain, so that was to be expected. In fact, once they told me she was ok and Dustin did some nicies (gentle stroking) on my arm, I calmed down and so did she.

The hospital staff was wonderful. My nurse, Patty, was amazing and calm and reassuring. We weren't left alone with our worries for more than a few minutes before she popped in to reassure us and make sure we were ok.

They ruled out early labor, thank Goodness. Suddenly, I found that I could be honest with my level of pain, now that I knew the kid wasn't en route. Yeah, I was pretty much dying, and I finally admitted it.

After my bloodwork came back, (stellar) my doctor appeared in between delivering babies. Before he emerged behind my curtain, we heard him say "this sounds like SPD," to Patty. Patty made a tsking noise and said, "well, YOU will have to break that news to her."

Symphysis Pubis Dysfunction is a fancy way to say that your pelvis is misaligned. My situation had progressed one step further...to Diastasis symphysis pubis...which is the separation of normally joined pubic bones...as in the dislocation of the bones.

The kid had literally popped the cartilage keeping my pelvis together, causing a gap in the bones and the pain of childbirth...but constant.

Diagnosing my condition consisted of my doctor pressing down on my pelvis to see if the joint was indeed loose. I pretty much blacked out at this point, but Dustin later told me that he explained the condition after his torture and that while there are complications that may arise come birthin' time, there were a few steps we could take to try and get some comfort. The bad news? This condition does not go away until after birth, it just gets managed.

Firstly, I was prescribed steroids. Usually steroids and pregnancy are a no-no, as I discovered when I had a previous allergic reaction in the first trimester. However late in the third trimester, they are less likely to do damage and sometimes the benefits outweigh the risks. The steroids may heal me up a little and reduce some of my painful swelling, but more importantly it will speed up the baby's lung development as early labor is a possibility with this condition.

A nice bonus of the steroids is the fact that my hives will go away too. (After just two doses, they did.)

I'm not thrilled about taking them, but I'm less thrilled about the other method of managing this condition...painkillers.

Oxycodone with Acetominaphen. Basically Percocet. (I know I spelled that wrong. Whatever, my vagina hurts.) I've been prescribed this a few times, mostly for tooth related issues...and I'm not gonna lie, it's a good time. I have a low tolerance to it, so usually just half a dose will knock out any discomforts. But a narcotic? When pregnant??

Patty handed my the prescription and I immediately recognized the drug. I stopped her in the middle of her discharge instructions and said..."Oxycodone? Is this safe??"

She smiled and said, "Would we give it to you if it wasn't?"

I didn't answer, but remained doubtful.

A painful hour or so later we had dropped off the prescriptions and were eating some lunch at Chicago Uno Grill, which we just discovered and really enjoy. I mentioned to Dustin about 40 times that I didn't think the oxy was a good idea. But considering the fact that my pelvis pain was threatening to steal my consciousness at any moment...and the fact that just walking ten feet took about 20 minutes, Dustin was pretty insistent that I needed something for the pain.

We picked up the scripts and got Dustin a flu shot while we were at the Target Pharmacy. (I was shocked he agreed to do that. He is staunchy anti-medical intervention for himself. To the point of not taking advil even when he's in severe pain. But when I got mine (I didn't have a choice) I was told he should get one too...for the safety of the baby this flu season. And he did. What a great dad.)

When we got home, I hesitated for a moment about the steroids, but took them knowing it would increase my chances at a natural delivery and help the baby's lungs...but I didn't even open the Percocet. Dustin allowed me to moan on the couch in pain for all of 2 minutes before he decided enough was enough and forced me to take one pill, half the suggested dose.

Fifteen minutes later, a fraction of the pain had ebbed, but it was as if I had entered a cotton candy world of happiness. I was still in pain, but I could shuffle to the bathroom on my own without crying and lay down and get up without screaming.

Percocet also makes me very funny, chatty, nauseous and lightheaded. I spent the next five or six hours yapping Dustin's ear off, forcing my body to hold down my chicago uno meal, and texting hysterical things to my dad and stepmom.

The dosing instructions are two pills every four hours. I have taken three pills in 24 hours. I took my second one right before bed...finally slept, interrupted by the normal pee parade instead of pain...and I took my third with lunch today after I discovered I couldn't walk again.

I'll be seeing my doctor every Tuesday morning from now through birth. There's a chance, if I don't heal enough, that I'll have to have a C-section, which is something I'd really like to avoid. There's also a chance that the baby could be early...but interestingly enough the doctors are starting to think they have misdiagnosed my due date...and that I may in fact be two weeks further along. Going by the original due date of halloween, I am 34 weeks and 4 days today. Going by the baby's measurments and the fact that my pelvis is separating already, I'm closer to 36 weeks. 37 weeks is considered full term, and since we're moving into our new house in 8 days, I'd like her to stay put for at least 20 more days. That's a lot of baby math.

So, that's my worst horror story so far. I imagine it pales in comparrison so the big day itself. I suppose we'll find out soon enough.

TOP TEN SIGNS YOUR RELATIONSHIP DOES NOT SUCK

Today, Dustin and I are celebrating our anniversary. We actually had to figure out a date based on the moment we knew we were committed to each other, which was weird. Remember in high school you totally knew your "date" because it was the day he or she circled "yes" on the note you passed that said "will you go out with me?" Things are more complicated now.

Dustin and I had been...let's say "dating"...for a while before September 7th, but it was that date that he and I went on our first vacation together...to Mystic Seaport, of all places. We had a wonderful time, and I think we both knew where we stood on the ferry ride home to Orient Point...and that was September 7th.

By the time you reach your thirties, most of us have had relationships of all different varieties. Brief romances, intense crushes, long term fizzlers, unrequited longings and flat out mistakes. I've had at least one of each. I think each relationship you have...even ones that don't involve sex or romance...prepare you and educate you for what you DO want in an ideal situation. You learn what works and what doesn't. And while you still may find yourself in a repeat crap situation, eventually you'll start to recognize a pattern and make better choices in a partner.

Dustin is good for me for many reasons, as I'd like to think I'm good for him. Ironically, and perhaps (to some) forebodingly, both he and I were coming off of very long term, very troubled relationships. I think for quite some time early in our relationship, that was something in the back of our minds...and probably the minds of those around us. I hate the term "rebound," but it was difficult not to think about that word in our situation. It prevented us from moving too quickly...or from admitting we were dating for quite some time. In fact, we worked together and hid it from our coworkers for about six months. Not easy to do in an office of like, eight.

Taking it relatively slow was a good choice for us. Like most women, I credit myself with knowing that this was "meant to be" early on...although Dustin claims he did too. But it's only with the passage of time that I can really see how truly lucky we are to have found each other. And before this starts to sound way too hallmarky, here are MY top ten reasons your relationship does not suck.

10. YOU RECOGNIZE AND ACKNOWLEDGE AND ACCEPT FAULTS EARLY ON, RATHER THAN TRYING TO IGNORE OR FIX THEM. No human is perfect. We all have really annoying traits. When I talk to some of my friends who are still in the dating game, I always see it as a warning sign when they've only been around the person a few times but already have things that annoy them about the other party.

"I like her, but she refers to her cat as her 'son.'"

"We have a good time, but he scratches his balls in public."

"She makes me laugh, but she is rude to waiters."

"I love spending time with him, but he lives in his ex's basement."

Deal breakers come in all forms. I once had to dump a guy because I couldn't get past the way he insisted on drinking wine. (Swirl the glass, deep sniff of the liquid, tiny sips and swooshes around the mouth, approval, big swig.) Nobody is saying that you HAVE to accept faults. If it drives you nuts...by all means...bail. BUT...your relationship does not suck if you can be around the little annoying things your partner does and not want to stab yourself in the eye with a chopstick.

(Dustin whistles CONSTANTLY and I suck on my teeth when I'm thinking.)


9. THAT WAS FUCKING GROSS, BUT I STILL LOVE YOU. The human body does disgusting things. I'm not a shy person, but like most people, I prefer to conduct my grosser bodily functions in private and not introduce them into routine conversations. I don't know if it's from being pregnant or if it's just because there's nothing either Dustin or I could do that would be so gross that it would be a deal breaker. I can freely talk about all the not so hot things my body is doing and Dustin will often not only accept it, but ask detailed questions about it. From the very first transvaginal ultrasound, all disgusting body things were completely accepted. Out of respect for Dustin I won't talk about any of his disgusting bodily functions, but suffice it to say there have been a few and I still love him more and more every day.

8. WOW...YOU'RE A LITTLE CRAZY...BUT I'M NOT GONNA JUDGE YOU. Yeah, I'm nuts. I'm the first person who will acknowledge that. I have an anxiety disorder that will bring me from normal, fun lovin' chick to irrational, evil beast in less than two minutes. Throw some pregnancy hormones into that mix and you're pretty much dealing with a need-to-call-an-exorcist situation. I've always done my best to hide my crazy in past situations, but again, pregnancy makes that all but impossible. (Side note...you don't have to be pregnant to know your relationship doesn't suck, it's just been the time in my life where my guard has been down the lowest and I've been at my worst, so it's a good way to tell just how solid Dustin and I are.) When I was about two months pregnant, we were moving from one crappy living situation to another. Tensions were already quite high because of all the drama we were experiencing. We had rented a uhaul and as you probably know, when you return said uhaul, you have to make sure it's full of gas and provide the receipt. For whatever reason, I forgot to get a receipt after fill up and pulled away. Dustin was following me in his car. About twenty seconds after I had pulled out of the gas station, I realized my mistake and called Dustin FREAKING THE FUCK OUT. It was an easy fix, he ended up going back and getting the receipt, no prob...but my reaction was SO off base...the fact that he didn't run for the hills is a pretty good indicator that my craziness is not a deal breaker. When you find a man who can deal with it, you don't let him go.

7. YOU SMELL, YOUR HAIR IS MAKING NATURAL DREDLOCKS, YOU HAVE A HUGE ZIT AND YOUR BREATH SMELLS LIKE YOU JUST ATE A POOP SANDWICH. C'MERE AND GIMMIE A KISS. Dustin and I are morning cuddlers. You know your relationship doesn't suck when you're at your grossest and can still kiss and cuddle. (While we're at it, what HAPPENS in the middle of the night that makes you so gross? I swear to God, sometimes I wake up and it seriously looks/smells like I've been camping for a month. In Africa. In the middle of a heatwave.)

6. YOU LIKE THAT SONG/TV SHOW/MOVIE? YOU'RE AN EFFING DORK. YEAH WE CAN LISTEN TO THE ALBUM/WATCH THE SEASON PREMIERE/RENT IT ON NETFLIX. Dustin has listened to all of the My Chemical Romance albums, watched several episodes of Glee and sat through all of the Twilight movies. I know a little bit of him died with each event. Nuff said.

5. THIS IS MY FAMILY. I WANT THEM TO KNOW YOU. I think a good indicator that your relationship does not suck is when your significant other not only wants to introduce you to their family, but also wants you to be a PART of their family. One of the greatest perks of my relationship with Dustin is the relationship I've developed with his family. They're the first family I love because of who they are...not because I have to or because they're my own family and I'm obligated to. When I started to see myself years down the line celebrating holidays, birthdays and other big events with this wonderful group of people, I knew I was at home in my relationship. And that it did not suck.

4. KNOCK THAT SHIT OFF. YOU'RE BEING RIDICULOUS. Nobody...and I mean NOBODY...has ever called me on my BS before. Dustin is the first person who will tell me if I'm being ridiculous by way of an overreaction, a worry, an anger I'm harboring, a jerky comment I make or a bad choice in general. The first few times it happened, it was disconcerting. Then I realized it was actually refreshing. It felt RIGHT to be so honest with someone. It was like the best of both worlds...being able to have an opinion, but not being agreed with automatically. It's just more real. And gratifying. AND...it's amazing to be able to do the same thing with him.

3. SEE THAT THING YOU'VE SEEN A THOUSAND TIMES BEFORE? I'M ABOUT TO SHOW IT TO YOU IN A WHOLE NEW LIGHT AND BLOW YOUR FREAKING MIND. One of the things I love about Dustin is his ability to see beauty in things that surround us every day. When we were first dating, he'd point at something like...a tree stump and say, "look at the way the bark is hugging that stump. Isn't that beautiful?" Or "Look at these grains of sand. Look at how the sun hits them and changes color. Isn't that beautiful?" Or "Look at those weeds under that frozen lake...they're going to grow into amazing plants in the spring. Isn't that incredible?" He saw things in a completely different way. I have noticed, as time passes, that I will point out things to him now that I never would have noticed before. He's actually CHANGED THE WAY I FREAKING SEE THINGS. In a way, he made my world bigger. That is pretty amazing.

2. I DISAGREE, BUT THIS WILL NOT TURN INTO AN EPISODE OF COPS. If everyone agreed all the time, the world would be a more peaceful, but incredibly one dimensional place to live. I have been in relationships before where the other party avoided confrontation at all costs. While I don't seek out discord, it became a sad, hollow, one sided relationship. Like the mental version of masterbation. It felt good but wasn't as fufilling and required too much self stimuation. Dustin and I will frequently have differences of opinion, but instead of becoming a springboard for an argument, it's a catalyst for a discussion. Usually we both walk away a bit more enlightened. Sometimes one of us will change our opinion, but it doesn't feel like a compromise. We can usually move on without either of us stabbing the other and that's definitely an indicator that things are going well in a relationship.

1. IT'S ME AND YOU, NOT ME OR YOU. The biggest reason I know this is for keeps is the way Dustin and I give and take for the benefit of the unspoken "greater good," which is us the entity, not us, Dustin and Erin. It may sound like an identity removal, but what I mean is how willing both he and I are to make things right for the both of us. And now that our daughter is almost here, for the three of us. It's completely involuntary too. We see what the other requires, and we each do what we have to do to make that happen. It doesn't matter if it's a material need or a hug or a grilled cheese sandwich. If one of us needs something, the other will make it happen. And it's not only for the other person, it's for ourselves. A sacrifice doesn't feel like a sacrifice when it's born of willingness. A compromise doesn't feel like a compromise when it's for a common goal. And love should be multiplied between two people, not divided into compartments like a cafeteria lunch tray.

It's because of these 10 reasons, and so many more each day that I realize my relationship does not suck. I consider myself one of the lucky ones, even if I do have to listen to Dustin whistle all the fucking time...sometimes even when he's asleep.