The Indescribable Joys of ConstipationWhen it comes to my health, I tend to err on the side of hypochondria. That cough is actually pneumonia. The bruise on my leg signals leukemia. When I began to feel nauseous in the morning? I needed my gallbladder out.
I only convinced myself more that I needed surgery immediately when I began to have heartburn. Nausea and heartburn? I was going to die!
Luckily, I wasn’t dying. I had morning sickness.
Morning sickness wasn’t the only problem I had at the beginning of both of my pregnancies. I also had terrible constipation. You know, the kind where you lay on the floor, grabbing your belly and moaning in pain.
For some reason, my body decided it needed to s**k the nutrients out of all my food for the clump of cells sitting in my belly.
I’d have to sit on the toilet, trying breathing techniques I learned on birthing shows. I’d deep breathe. I’d focus. I’d try to distract myself with magazines.
“I can’t do this!” I’d cry. “How can I have a baby if I can’t even poop without crying?”