On January 17th, Martin Luther King Jr. Day, I was sitting on the couch trying to relax. I closed my eyes and listened to “Screaming Infidelities” by Dashboard Confessional. All of a sudden I felt a warm gush of fluid fall out of me. As is my tradition, I immediately removed my pajama pants and stopped Wil on his way down the stairs, he was headed to work.

He stopped in his tracks.
“Are you sure?” He asked suspiciously.
“Yes, I’m sure.” I answered audibly irritated by his doubt.
He returned to the apartment and called out of work.
I notified my doula and friend, Livvy and she came right over to support me. Then I called my midwife and said:
“I think my water broke, but I’m not sure.”
“Put on a pad and call me in an hour. “
I followed these instructions. The fluid kept coming along with pretty consistent contractions, every five minutes lasting 35 seconds.
I had contractions on and off that evening and called my acupuncturist to come over and push the labor process further along. Billy the wonder acupuncturist arrived and did his magic. My contractions intensified but waned off enough that I was able to go to sleep.
I had the best sleep of life. Then I woke up. My mind was racing. Could this be labor?
The next day my contractions had died down. My midwife called and said she was on her way over to my place to check on me. After an excruciating exam, which included me crying out of frustration, it was determined that my water was not broken, but I was three centimeters dilated. But what was that suspicious fluid that was leaking out? My midwife speculated that it could be a “high leak” in the amniotic sack.
The next few days I continued to leak fluid and I experienced contractions on and off but active labor never came.
Today, my midwife asked to see me in her office to exam me once again. After she examined me it was concluded that my water was not broken, there was no high leak in the amniotic sack, in fact there was no fluid leaking at all. These bursts of fluid were none other than my bladder spontaneously emptying itself.
She told me that it’s possible that I could wait another two weeks to go into labor. I sat in her office and cried. I cried and cried out of sheer frustration. I cried because the thought of continuing to pee on myself and look after Ari felt horrible and impossible. I cried because I didn’t want to be pregnant anymore.
She suggested I buy a belly band to relieve pelvic pressure and potentially stop the spontaneous bladder rebellion.
I’m wearing the band now and it feels a bit more comfortable. I can’t wait to have this baby.