So I had this situation for a week or so where I couldn't wee - might as well jump right in and say it. If you can't take this directness, you certainly can't take what's going to follow. Look away now.
It seems, touch wood, to have disappeared again. I remember from my first pregnancy, that if I didn't go to the loo regularly and I let myself get desperate, I would have problems weeing at all. I could sit on the toilet, absolutely bursting and nothing would happen. Except a few tears streaming down my cheeks with the stress/discomfort of it all.
And from just before we went on holiday to the time of my scan (the EXACT time of my scan) this awful symptom (or should we call it a side-effect?) came back to taunt me in pregnancy number two.
Now imagine the scene. We are disembarking the ferry... quick wee and into the car. Sit in the car, sit in the car, sit in the car, ooh we're moving, depart the ferry. Lovely. Queue for passport control, wait a bit, wait a bit more, a little more, yay, we're through and off on our journey. It didn't take too long actually (much faster than UK passport control), but it did add to the planned two hour journey time.
The SatNav took us on a weird windy route, away from all major French roads. So no service stations with toilets. There were villages where we could have stopped, if we were feeling brave, but we were not. We had a sleeping toddler and we did NOT wish him to wake up, so on we went as I bravely announced "I'll be fine, I can hold it a little longer."
I was lying. I needed to go. Now. So I got out a nappy.
I can't quite believe that I am going to relay this story. Deep breath.
So, I managed to wriggle the nappy inside my pants, trousers and seatbelt - no mean feat. I made sure the stretchy bits were spread wide and kept my hand around my crotch so that the nappy stayed in place and there was no risk of leakage. I sat as upright as possible and let my urge to wee translate into a bodily function. Nothing.
I thought this was my clever body telling me that weeing with your clothes on, whilst sitting in a moving car was not really the 'done thing'. I felt a little bit proud of myself.
Nonetheless, I altered my position and tried again. Nothing. By this time we were approaching a village. A few people may have walked by so I tried to disguise the situation as best I could and waited for the next opportune area of countryside.
Here we go... countryside, no-one around, "just let go body, just let go". Nothing. Husband was beginning to find it funny by now, well, ok, he found it funny to begin with and I swore him to absolute secrecy - Hi honey, please don't tell your family still, that'd be weird. He did offer some kind help and encouragement by making running water type sounds, pssssssss, for example. Yep, he tried to help. Nothing.
He stopped finding it funny when I made a really serious effort after another village and ended up in tears. Not upset tears, just the falling out of your eyes kind that you can't help when something hurts so much. It wasn't like actual pain either (in case you're wondering if I had some kind of infection - trust me, it wasn't the same), just grrrrr, 'wee, damn you' tears!
Eventually, and mainly because hubby was lost, we stopped in a layby. I undid my seatbelt turned around and knelt on the seat (many people choose this position for giving birth, I believe) and concentrated so hard, that a teeny tiny little wee trickled out and into the nappy. Hubby asked if I was 'doing it', "shut up", I responded with ferocious concentration. A little more wee. Toddler woke up and looked straight at me, husband congratulated him on witnessing this epic moment in his mother's life. A little bit more wee. Then I got nervous about how much I was doing and if the nappy could take it so I stopped. I felt a little relief but still needed the toilet. Thankfully this was enough to see me to our arrival at our holiday resort (let's not name it here as I really don't think they'd enjoy the publicity).
Husband was dispatched from the car with a not very full nappy to dispose of in the roadside bin. And on with the journey.
The weeing situation seemed to get worse throughout the holiday, in that, I wouldn't even need to get 'desperate' to find I would sit on the loo and have nothing come out (apart from a few tears). I was making plans to ask the sonographer at my first scan to check the positioning of my bladder and urethra as I thought it must be trapped somewhere by the baby.
The journey back home in the UK was worse. Husband wisely announced "there'll be services on the M25, we'll stop there". Incorrect husband. There are no services on that section of the M25 and it would appear that the junction to the M1 is also closed right now with major queues backing up. Out came the nappy once again. Pointlessly as nothing happened. Thank christ for Toddington Services.
I continued to have problems peeing that weekend and when we went for our scan on the Monday where I had to have a full bladder (?!?!?!?!? do they not REALISE how difficult it is to keep your bladder full for half an hour when you're pregnant?!?), the NHS were typically running late (I should point out right now that I LOVE the NHS and am a massive fan of hospital food, they're just late. always. fact.). The poor sonographer noticed that I 'danced' into the room and asked if I needed to go. He had a quick look at the baby, reported that my bladder was too full and I should go and empty it. I apologised that I might be 'a while', left... and Lo!, I sat down on the loo and the floodgates literally opened. I think I may have had another little cry, of relief this time.
And it seems to have been fixed ever since. So... have a good laugh, confess if you've ever weed in a nappy yourself and sympathise with me if you had problems weeing during pregnancy too. Please nicely, as I'm still a little shocked that I am sharing such an embarrassing encounter with the entire WWW. Eeeek!