Spillover

Today has been one of those weird days that seemed to have passed by mostly in a fog. I literally slept the majority of the day away, as I've been dealing with some minor cramping and discharge (no water breakage yet), and just felt like taking it easy.

But don't be fooled; I earned my day of relaxation. Adam, Christine and I woke at 4:45am to get her to the Detroit airport for her early-morning flight out. Since we'd gotten to bed only about 4 1/2 hours earlier, I made it my personal mission to try to keep Adam awake during the 1 1/2 hour drive to the airport. We listened to NPR (it's been awhile since I've actually been awake to hear the first broadcast start at 5am), chatted about the stormy weather, and gazed with sympathy at opposing traffic, lined up back-to-back on the highway. We made it to the airport in record time and bid Christine a fond farewell, as she really kicked ass this week and got our basement into a functional space that will no longer pose a mold threat to me or baby. There's a reason I love that girl, and it has only a little to do with her construction/demolition skills.

Since I decided to brave the long carride to the airport, I thought I'd go prepared with an incontinence pad in case the urge to pee hit me. In the 4 1/2 hours of "sleep" I got last night, I got up four times to urinate, so I knew there was a good chance I'd need to go sometime during the drive. I was right. Somewhere around mile 45 of the trip, when the road was getting disturbingly bumpy, my bladder started screaming at me for relief. I tried to relieve myself, with no luck; I think I was too tense sitting in the car to properly go. Once we arrived at the airport, however, it was a different story. As soon as I stood up to give Christine a hug good-bye, everything loosened up and I started to pee, happily and freely into the pad. If you've never done this, I must tell you the odd combination of relief, freedom and self-consciousness that the act brings on. I was extremely proud of myself and announced my urination to Adam and Christine. She grinned and asked if we should wait to hug until I'd finished. Just as I was trying to finish up, an all-too-familiar warm feeling started to gather at the front of my jeans. I looked down, but couldn't see anything past my belly; Christine started ordering me to "Stop! Stop! It's coming through!" My pad had failed me and there was spillage. And I still had some urine left to release. I gave Christine a quick hug and then climbed, hang-dogged back into the car. Adam was a little disturbed. About ten miles down the highway, I mimed excitedly toward the reststop on the side of the road, and he made a quick departure just before missing the exit. I peed, cleaned up the spillage, washed my hands, then decided to try to pee again one more time for the rest of the hour-long trip home.

Just as we got back on the road, Christine called to let us know that she'd checked in okay. Just a moment later she laughed and said, "Lauren, I felt so bad! As soon as I walked into the airport, there was a restroom right by the door. You didn't need to pee your pants after all!" Oh well, if I'd peed at the airport, I'd have had a much less interesting story to tell.