Passing Stonehenge
(Constipation)
At no time is constipation pretty or comfortable, but during pregnancy it’s even worse than bad. And I had it bad. You’ll probably notice it most in your first and last trimesters (again, just a small window of relief during that respite known as the second trimester). For me, the worst of it came (or didn’t come, to be more precise) in the beginning. I honestly went thirteen days without even a rumble. And I was eating enormous amounts of food. Where could it be going? I wasn’t packing weight on just yet . . . and it certainly wasn’t coming out.
Then one day, as I was driving my car, BAM! There was no way around it, things were rumbling and they wanted to come out. From the feel of things, I could tell that it was the size of Stonehenge and it was ready to flow. Holy shit! I was thinking, where the hell am I going to go? Even though later on in my pregnancy I wouldn’t turn my nose up at a gas station, this was early on, and I refused to use that kind of can. I stepped on the gas and got my eager rectum home.
As I ran to the bathroom, I have to admit that I felt a bit excited. I was finally about to get some relief! Yippee! How could I have known how wrong I’d be? I thought I was giving birth right then and there. The pain! The pushing! You’ve got to be kidding! My sister was at my house at the time and kept making comments about some banging noise. She kept shouting, “What the hell is that?” It was me, banging my fists against the wall, which were soon followed by my head and feet banging the sink and the tub. Needless to say, things found their way out eventually, but not without great effort and lots of prayers.
And this was only the beginning. It kept happening. Two weeks of nothing and then all of a sudden I’d be on the front line of World War III. I read in books that this was very “normal.” Well, screw that. It couldn’t be normal. I needed a specialist. So, I dared to ask my gyno for some help, and he referred me to Dr. “I Love Everything about the Butt Canal.” Do you think you know where this is going? If you’ve had a similar experience, I would be very surprised.
As I sat in the waiting room, I couldn’t stop thinking, “Is he gonna look up my butt?” But then I laughed because as I reminded myself, I wasn’t there for an exam. I didn’t have a colon problem. I was just a pregnant lady who was really constipated. I just needed a safe laxative. Why my gyno couldn’t have prescribed me something I still don’t know.
The assistant walked out shouting, “Jenny McCarthy, you’re next!” Of course everyone in the waiting room looked up in surprise, and I knew what they were thinking: “Wow, Jenny McCarthy has butt hole problems?” I was so embarrassed, until I realized that they had no right to be smirking: Those assholes were also there because of their own assholes. I felt better already.
I followed the assistant down the hall to the doctor’s office and met the pro. We talked for thirty minutes about my butt. Fascinating conversation. The history of it and of my previous ability to crap regularly and yadda yadda. Then, he casually asked if I partook in anal sex. I don’t care if he’s a doctor or not, it was just a really weird thing for me to hear. Of course I made a vulgar face and, clearly offended, I said, “NO!” He didn’t sense my outrage.
He continued on about how butt sex can be very bad for your butt. I’m like, dude, I’m just a pregnant lady; shut the hell up and help me. Finally, he started to fill me in on my safe options. “Drink more water and eat better,” he said. Well, no, shit, Sherlock! As he wrapped things up, I took my car keys out of my purse to show him I was ready to GO. He stood up and gestured to walk me out. I couldn’t help but think, “Thank God! I’m outta this loony place.”
We walked down the hallway and he had one of his hands on my shoulder. No biggie. Just being nice. Well, his hand on my shoulder turned into more of a steering wheel. And he steered me right into an examination room. Okay, at this point I looked like a deer caught in the headlights because we all know what was about to happen.
He told me to undress and put a gown on, and he shut the door to give me some privacy. Why privacy is a concern in that line of work, I don’t know! Of course I was freaking out. I kept thinking, “Should I run?” or “Should I just tough it out?” I figured that my gyno had sent me here, and I trusted his judgment. I took my clothes off and decided to take it like a man, so to speak.
The good doctor came back into the room and had me lie on my side with my bare ass hanging out toward him. He told me he was going to slide a tool inside my bum and remove a piece of stool. You think you’re surprised to read this? I was thinking, “YOU’VE GOT TO BE KIDDING! NO FREAKIN’ WAY!” But he lubed up and wazam . . . what’s up, Doc? But just when I thought it couldn’t get worse, it did.
You’ll probably scream, but I have to tell you because I couldn’t believe it myself. This specialist, this “I Love Everything about the Butt Canal” guy, proved his love of the job: He pulled the tool out with the poopoo connected to it and sniffed it! No shit; pun intended. He totally sniffed it. He said, “I’m going to smell it now,” and boy, did he. I don’t know the medical reason behind the need to smell the ol’ stool. Maybe there isn’t one. Maybe he really loves his job, if you know what I mean. I should have asked my gyno about all this, but once I got the hell out of there, I never looked back. And I never went back.
Instead, I took to heart what everyone had been telling me from the start: Constipation during pregnancy is normal. It isn’t pretty, it isn’t comfortable, and it sure doesn’t smell good. But relief will come. If not every few weeks, then after delivery! So just hang in there and stay far away from specialists. Constipation is normal in pregnancy, even if it feels like you’re passing Stonehenge!