Reason #347 That I Love My Husband

So, there's no delicate way to ease into this topic, so I'm just going to dive in.

When you're pregnant some things don't work like they used to. Like your pooper.

That's right. I'm talking about constipation. If you don't want to read about poop, I suggest you stop reading now. Constipation is one of those pregnancy symptoms no one warns you about. So, for those of you readers who have never had the burden pleasure of growing a person , let this be your warning. There may come a time in your life when successfully going #2 will be an event worthy of a high five.

For most of my pregnancy, consipation has been only an intermittent symptom, and usually nothing worth worrying about. Every now and then, however, it morphs into painful, PAINFUL indigestion where I feel like I might poop, and vomit, and have my innards explode at any given moment.

That high five I mentioned? That's where my husband comes in. Some people say that a marriage is better if you leave a little mystery. That's good in theory, but sometimes I have to talk about my poop.*

*Don't go feeling sorry for him. We talk about his poop too.

Case in point: yesterday morning. Steven and I were scheduled to take our first of seven (yes, seven) professional licencing exams at 8:00 am. We got up early to beat the rush hour traffic, knowing we would stop for breakfast closer to the test center. I woke up with the feeling that I needed to go. Attempt 1 - nothing happened. I had a big glass of water, got dressed and piddled around the house until it was time to leave (gravity and fluids are ALWAYS your friend in this matter). I sat at the table to have another glass of water, and Steven asked if I was ready to leave. "Maybe," I said "but I might have to poop."

He answered "We don't have to leave for several minutes, so take your time."

Isn't he sweet? Attempt 2 - nothing. I was really afraid that if I didn't resolve this situation quickly that it would rear its head, so to speak, in the middle of my very expensive, timed exam.

We left on time and I continued drinking water in the car. It was now becoming increasingly uncomfortable to stay seated. But, we were in a moving vehicle so I had no other options. We got to our destination and found a fast-food place nearby. I decided to attack my problem from every angle and ordered yogurt with granola (bacteria and fiber), apple juice in a humiliatingly small juice box (more fiber, I think), a plain biscuit (because I'm pregnant and I wanted it) and a bottled water (more fluids, duh).

Being seated was still uncomfortable so I ate quickly for the sake of time and my bum. Attempt 3 - mission accomplished. I returned to the table and Steven said "Well?"

"It's all taken care of" I replied.

"Good. I was worried that would distract you during the test."

So there you have it. That's one of the many reasons I love him. Because he talks about poop, in the most casual way, and isn't grossed out. Or he's very good at pretending not to be grossed out.


  1. Love him! I have a friend whose boyfriend gets freaked out when we talk about pooping. It's kind of a big conversation topic between me and my friends, what can I say? Anyway I'm always glad my boyfriend and I can be casual about that stuff. Nothing worse than feeling like you have to be a pretty feminine creature with no natural..urges. Or whatever. High five for Steven!