My life is rife with embarrassing moments so you’d think it would be easier to pick out which was the worst but the truth is that I’ve had SO MANY embarrassing moments that they all seem equally as mortifying as the next. Sometimes I truly think I’m a social misfit (thus the square peg in the round hole thing) and maybe even had/have Asperger’s because I am so socially awkward sometimes.
The thing is that if YOU (or anyone I know) does do something really stupid and embarrassing I will tell on you in a heartbeat. I will also tell on myself just as quickly so I think that makes it ok. I’m an equal opportunist when it comes to tattling on your most horrific moments and my own.
I was trying to think of some of my most embarrassing mishaps, like the nurse leaving her “wand” inside me during her phone call she took while she was doing my vaginal ultrasound… but I already told you about that. Or the time I fell and bruised my hooha on the side of my tub and my boss offered to “check it out” for me…but I already told you that one too. Or the time I passed out cold in front of a bar when I was about 20 and had my parents come home from vacation early to catch my best friend in their bed with her boyfriend… but I’m pretty sure I told you that one too. Or the time I fell down the stairs in high school and landed with my skirt around my waist with my crush standing over me. Or the time my skirt fell off at a New Year’s Eve party for the local police department while I was dancing…. You get the picture.
And being quite to social misfit sometimes I’ve had my share of falling down the stairs, or asking woman who had already given birth when her baby was due, or asking someone about their “daughter” only to find out it was their wife/girlfriend. Yeah, I have a hard time with opening my mouth and inserting my foot. I have a constant case of foot in mouth disease!
I think the one embarrassing story I haven’t told you is the one surrounding the birth of our second daughter. If I have already told you this, I apologize. After over 700 posts I forget what I have shared and what I haven’t!
When #1 was born the pains were excruciating and I was in labor for almost 3 days so when I went into labor with #2 I wasn’t quite sure it was really labor because it was so totally different from the first one. The pain wasn’t bad at all (it wasn’t back labor because she was turned the right way!) but the contractions were pretty regular and we had moved across the river in New Orleans and we weren’t sure how the traffic was going to be having to cross the GNO bridge and drive all the way out to New Orleans East to the Women’s Hospital where I was going to give birth so we left pretty much as soon as I thought I was really in labor.
I think we got to the hospital between 7 and 8 p.m. or maybe even a little later. They put me in my room and had me put on my wonderfully lovely open in the back hospital gown which didn’t close too well due to my ample pregnant belly. Then the nurse informs me that she is going to give me an enema. I was NOT looking forward to that and I had her usher hubby out of the room as I had barely even peed in front of him and NEVER had a bowel movement with him in the same room much less have a nurse cram her tools of destruction up my bum and pump me full of liquids…. from the WRONG end!
I’m sure most of you have had an enema at some point in your life and if you have you understand how embarrassing it is and if you haven’t? TRUST ME!!! You do NOT want an audience! It is an extremely personal moment and I didn’t even want the NURSE in there much less anyone else. So she ushered hubby out of the room and I struggled to my feet and waddled over to the bathroom (no WAY was going to attempt that in a bed pan!) as quickly as I could with all the straps and IV’s that were attached while furiously clenching my butt cheeks together so as not to leave a tell tale trail traipsing across the floor. Not cool… Not cool AT ALL!
Anyway, I made it to the toilet…. Barely… and I didn’t even have time to properly shut the bathroom door as I plopped my ample rear on the seat about the same time that the entire contents of my digestive tract made way like a putrid avalanche swallowing everything in its path on the way to the bowl! Trust me… it was intense, it was ugly, it was smelly and it sounded even worse. As you know, once the parade starts, there is NO stopping it. God himself could have come down and told me to stop and He would have been out of luck.
Just as I’m thinking I’m going to pop this baby out my butt along with everything else I hear a knock at the door to my room and since the bathroom is right by the door to the hall and I am in no condition to answer the door or even get up to shut the bathroom door, to my horror I see the door open and in walks my doctor! It would have been bad enough if it had been a nurse, or my husband, but the doctor (did I mention he was cute? And had asked me out before I met hubby?)? I’m yelling at him to GET OUT! And not only does he continue into the room but he comes straight into the bathroom like ‘Oh, hey! THERE you are!” I’m screaming “Get out! Get OUT!” and he’s LAUGHING! Yes, HE thought it was hilarious!
I know my face was as red as it could possibly be. I could feel the burn all the way to my toes (or maybe that was just the affects of all the effort put forth to evacuate my entire digestive tract!). He lightly said “It’s not like I haven’t seen everything you’ve got already! Remember I DID deliver your first one!” Yes, but he hadn’t seen ALL MY STUFF covered with THAT stuff….not to mention the SMELL! He assured me that it didn’t bother him in the least. Well, it DID bother me. I don’t think I EVER quite got over that and I don’t think I could ever really look him in the eye after that.
To top off that embarrassment, after the enema torture, when it came time to go to the delivery room the doctor hadn’t made it into the room yet and hubby was standing down by my knee/leg while the nurse put my feet up in the stirrups and started wrapping my legs with warm blankets. She had just finished wrapping one leg and was crossing to the other leg (yes she was right between my legs) when a labor pain hit. I tried my best NOT to push but at the end I HAD to and when I did? My water broke! And it rained down on her like she was standing under Niagra Falls!
She stood there between my legs with her arms out to her sides literally dripping in amniotic fluid ala’ Carrie. I think she was stunned for a millisecond and then she shook her head and said “I should have known better than that!” wiped the thick liquid off her face and walked over and started wrapping the other leg. I’m telling you… I almost threw up! And then I look over at hubby and he’s turning green and grabbing at his face mask and making those tell tale throw up knocking at the throat sounds and the nurse is screaming “GET HIM OUT OF HERE!!! NOW!!! THERE’S NO WEHRE FOR HIM TO THROW UP IN HERE!” So they usher hubby out of the room… AGAIN (poor guy).
Next thing I know the doctor is coming in and telling me to push and I’m asking about hubby because he hasn’t come back in the room and I don’t want to have this baby without him in the room! The doctor looks at me and says “Don’t worry about him. We’ll pick him up when it’s over!” Excuse me? What did you just say? Pick him UP?
Apparently between, the gusher of amniotic fluid raining down on the nurse and the crowning and all that good stuff hubby had passed out across the hallway… literally he covered from one side of the hallway to the other…. Bless his heart!