Prepare yourself for poop talk

I have no idea why I am embarrassed at the time, but I can tell these stories to the world wide web.  Either way, here it is.

I'm rocking some serious constipation this pregnancy.  I don't have a normal digestive system to start with.  Then during pregnancy it gets worse.  Add Zofran, a known side-effect of which is constipation, and I'm lucky if I go once a week.  And that one time is not an easy moment.  I'm using the term "moment" loosely.

I try to keep track of how often I go.  I take fiber supplements and stool softener on a daily basis.  I do not have doctor permission to take laxatives.  Generally you are supposed to avoid those while pregnant because it can bring on labor.  When it's been more than three days, I bump up the fiber supplements. 

I need to learn to do that on the weekends.

The problem is that after a certain point, being stopped up hurts.  Just sitting there hurts.  I took some Metamucil (sounds innocent enough) with my dinner last night.  I've decided that stuff takes about 12 hours to produce results because when I was walking into work this morning, shit hit the fan.  Not literally, I promise.  Because of further complications related to constipation (hemorrhoids) the doctor recommended going the moment an urge struck.  Waiting would increase the chances of exacerbating that issue.  So I ran to the bathroom and then waited.  Because that's what you do with constipation.  Lots of waiting. 

A few minutes into my wait, the automatic lights in the bathroom turned off.  I didn't want to risk losing the urge if I got up to turn the light back on, so I just sat there in the dark.  Then.  Then someone came in.  I was just waiting, no action, so I was silent.  I suddenly felt ridiculous.  I didn't want this unknown (up to this point) person to know I was sitting in the bathroom in the dark.  Because then they would know I'd been in there long enough for the lights to go out and then they would KNOW WHAT I WAS DOING.

I wasn't okay with that.  So I sat silently.  Waiting.  Waiting.... waiting...  The lady never left!  I watched the second hand tick away on my watch.  Almost 10 minutes went by.  Finally I took matters into my own hands.  I noisily pulled some toilet paper off the roll.  The sound of that paper ripping obviously said, 'GET OUT.'  So she did. 

I did my business and off to work I go!

I'll have to see if I can change up my schedule to using the bathroom for longer than 5 minutes on the weekends.  It's just so inconvenient to deal with at work.