This has taken me some time to process but I’ve decided I need to get this off my chest. There was an incident the other night after a party. It was embarrassing. It was unexpected. It was uncontrollable. You’re asking yourself, what could have possibly happened to this mild-mannered mom to cause such anxiety? Such drama? I’ll tell you.
I peed my pants.
Not during a sneeze, or a hardy giggle, or a punch to the bladder. It was a full on piss sitch running down my leg and I’m sharing this with you in the hopes that you can save yourself from my pee pee pitfall.
I just wrapped up celebrating a birthday party with my friends on a rare night off from mom duty. There was laughter, the gays, and gossip. All was right with the world. There were probably drinks involved. Okay, definitely drinks involved. But not enough to be drunk so don’t freak out. There was however enough to make me think as I hugged my friends goodbye, maybe I should run to the bathroom really quick. Nope. I chose to “risk it” and drive home to let it flow in my own bowl.
The minute I got in my car I felt the twinge down below. I thought, hhhmmm, should I go back? What I wouldn’t give to go back in time and tell myself, Yes! As I drove toward home, the sensation picked up. It started to tingle. Then hurt. Then burn.
And before I knew it, I was in pain. Real pee pain. But I was so close to home. Less than a mile! If I could just squeeze that kegel muscle a little harder maybe I’d make it. The pressure was mounting as I approached my turn only to run into a FREAKING DETOUR! At this point my body was shaking, all I could do was pray.
Pray that I didn’t pee all over my car. I couldn’t believe I was on the brink of bursting where a mere moments before I stupidly thought I could make it! I kept thinking, this is why people shouldn’t have babies! This should be on the pamphlets in high school, “You will piss your pants uncontrollably until the end of time if you give birth.” That would be some serious birth control right there! As these thoughts are running through my mind, a trickle of pee starts to find its way to the surface.
It was happening. I was still a good 4 minutes from my house, plenty of time to release a load of urine all over myself. So I started distraction techniques that were vaguely similar to birthing techniques. Breath, in and out. Short breaths. Squeeze!! Then I saw my house. Every turn, every bump felt like a thousand needles in my crotch. I wasn’t going to make it.
As I pulled into the driveway I realized I would still have to get out of my car and manage to walk to my front door. I didn’t have a chance. The urine was already at my front door (if you know what I’m saying). Why, oh why, didn’t I do more exercises to strengthen my pelvic floor? Everyone kept telling me what a difference they make and I was too dumb to listen. Well I hear you now kegels! I hear you NOW!
I stumbled out of my car, and limped, squeezing my thighs the whole way to my door. As I went in, my body just couldn’t take it anymore. It knew the potty was a few steps away and decided to rid itself of my body. Running freely away from me as if it could see the promise land.
My husband was in the office at the time and describes what he saw as a flash of someone who looked like his wife rushing by yelling, “I’M PEEEEEIIINNNGGGG!!” To his credit, he gave me a few minutes to compose myself before coming to the bathroom to see if I needed help. I did. So very much.
After a quick shower and a moment to acclimate my body to the non-pee stress of the last few minutes, it dawned on me that what I’ve been teaching my daughter for months was something I need to learn myself. Daniel Tiger has a song where he sings, “If you have to go potty, stop! And go right away. Flush and wash and be on your way.” I let you down Daniel Tiger. I let you down.
Let this be a lesson to us all, young and old. When you feel mother nature bombarding your bladder, palpitating your pubic bone, or titillating your tee tee, stop. And go to the bathroom. Because quite frankly, even though I’m ramping up my kegel work, now I’m terrified to ever be more than 10 steps away from a bathroom.
You win this round pee.