"Don't forget to set our alarm honey. My appointment's in the morning," I say to my husband Ryan as I sat on my bed, rubbing my hand over my growing belly.
"I know, sweetie. You can't be late for Dr. Miruhi's office tomorrow. How is the baby doing?"
"I guess we'll find out tomorrow, but ... I'm feeling good about this."
I say that as though I haven't already teared up or slammed a door at least twice today. But it's true. I really want this baby. And maybe it helps that I managed to get this pregnant body to the bathroom and back. Unbenownst to me, it was the last time I would use my anus, or my urethral meatus, at least as I knew them.
Ryan set the clock and turned out the lamp. Then we both covered ourselves up and he kissed me on the forehead. We've wanted children for so long, but now we're both 31, married 7 years, and we've finally conceived. It's been busy, but I'm supposed to have some tests run tomorrow. Every other appointment has been promising, so far. As I drift off to sleep, I silently hope tomorrow will go smoothly. For both our sakes.
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BEEEP BEEEP BEEEP BEEEP BEEEP
"Oh, shit, Ryan, turn it off!"
"Got it hun."
"Hmmmm five more minutes, Ryry..."
"Sorry, honey, if we don't get dressed soon, we won't make it."
Ryan is right but I really hate him for right now. I just want to stay in this bed all day. Fuck, why did we make such an early appointment?
I heave myself into a seated position, and I'm sure my belly looks a little more bloated today. I think that every morning. My bladder and bowels are practically screaming, and as I realize that, I realize something else. This has got to be the first time I haven't got up in the night to pee for weeks. I would know. I'm not actually huge yet, no matter what I think I look like, but I definitely notice standing up and walking these days, especially when I'm tired. I hear a gush of liquid hit the water; Ryan's already in the bathroom. Hm. Men.
Anyway, he's out quick, and I manage my way in there. My back doesn't feel great, but it is what it is. I sit on the toilet and peeing feels ... different. I can't figure out how, at first, and I'm not entirely too worried about it, at first. Something feels at least a little different every day, and I assume it's going to be like that until well after I've given birth. But eventually, I figure it out. My asshole kind of feels wet, too? Like I'm pooping out pee while I'm pissing? I don't understand. Maybe I'm just imagining it.
Then the actual poop comes, and that's how I know something is wrong. It literally feels like I'm pooping out of my vagina. What?! I get myself emptied out OK, I try to clean up, and then I immediately call for Ryan.
"Ryan? RYAN! Baby, come in here."
Ryan comes running to the door. "Sweetie, what's wrong?"
"Ryan, I cannot find my butt hole." It's the most ridiculous thing I thought I'd never say.
"You mean you can't reach it?" he asks. Poor, sweet, naive, male, non-pregnant soul.
"No, I mean it is not there. Not where I think it should be. You've got to help me, find it, I guess." Is pregnancy this weird for every woman?
"Are you sure it's okay for me to come in? You know, while you're, um, exposed?"
"RYAN SULLIVAN YOU HAVE ALREADY SEEN ME NAKED, YOU PUT YOUR NAKED ONTO MY NAKED AND THAT'S WHY I'M LIKE THIS. NOW GET THE FUCK IN HERE YOU TWIT." Shit, can't I have a day off from these mood changes? He sheepishly opens the door. Why do men with pregnant wives always look like little boys getting scolded by their mothers? It's all right Trish, just keep your cool, you got this.
"It, it, it looks fine to me," Ryan stammers, seeming genuinely surprised. I grab some tissue and tell him, "Okay, um, just, you know, maybe wipe it off once if you don't mind?" So embarrassing. I bet neither of us imagined THIS during the honeymoon. He rubs tissue over a hole I'd already found, which feels like, well, wiping my ass, but also ... my vaj? My peehole? WTF?
"Are you sure you don't see another hole back there?" I ask, blushing. But his answer surprises me: "What other hole would there be, Trish?" I face him instantly and demand an explanation. He mumbles something about nobody has two cloacas, or he doesn't think so, and mine looks just like when we made love. What is even a cloaca? I eventually just start crying. Ryan tries to comfort me, but I can tell he thinks this is just another mood swing. I try to tell him, I'm sure something is wrong down there, but only tells me to tell Dr. Miruhi when we get there. I suppose maybe he's right.