A Beam of Light Through the Storm: My Harrowing Experience with Severe Constipation

It’s a question that was made for me. I am currently 8 months pregnant with my second son, and my journey through pregnancy has been filled with unexpected twists and turns. A little over a month ago, I encountered one of the more challenging experiences—severe constipation that nearly brought me to my knees.

It all began at work. After one particularly strenuous day, I headed to the restroom and had an accident of epic proportions. The clog was so severe that the workplace called for emergency repairs, imagining a scenarios that included digging through floors, sidewalks, and streets. Thankfully, it was merely a case of equivocated fear and misunderstanding.

But the real struggle began a few nights later. I found myself completely stuck. The sensation was akin to trying to push a bowling ball through a small hole. Every method—from glycerine suppositories, enemas, to a steady diet of prunes—proved futile. I was in immense pain and found myself curled in a fetal position on the bathroom floor.

The Night I Decided to Brave the ER

Unable to bear the agony any longer, I made the decision to seek help at the hospital. I didn’t want to wake my 2-year-old daughter, already up and about from a bout of insomnia, so I drove myself the three miles to the emergency room in tears. My dignity and pain were evident as I arrived, struggling to catch my breath.

The ER nurse, not quite understanding the gravity of the situation, initially mistook me for someone in labor. Upon realizing my condition, the staff escorted me to a labor and delivery ward. I remember lying in the bed, my thoughts racing, as the nurse worked silently beside me, a mix of fear and anticipation consuming me.

The nurse’s gentle demeanor contrasted sharply with the gravity of the situation. I learned a new term: impacted. She delivered this news with a mix of concern and calm. After administering a milk and honey enema, I felt a glimmer of hope. The nurse then suggested a shower, and as I stood under the tap, my curiosity got the better of me when I heard her murmuring intently from the other side of the bathroom door.

"What are you doing?" I asked, my voice dripping with horror. She replied, "You have to cut it up or it will clog these old pipes!" In that moment, I realized the severity of the situation. Witnessing the nurse’s actions as she methodically cut up my stool, I couldn’t help but shake with a mix of fear and gratitude.

As I lay there, my body trembling with the force of the contractions, I knew this was the real reason for the staff's confusion. My doctor arrived just as the contractions grew more intense, providing a rare moment of levity amidst the chaos. He chuckled before checking me, informing me that I wasn’t in labor but merely constipated. After the humor passed, he exclaimed, "You’re the first person to deliver a poop in this labor and delivery ward!" It was a memorable moment, but one that paled in comparison to the constipation-induced agony.

The Aftermath

Delivering that bowel movement was more painful than delivering my son, and it lasted much longer, as my son walked out after just three minutes. My bowel movement, on the other hand, was a prolonged ordeal requiring a doctor’s intervention and the kind heart of a nurse.

That’s the story of my worst constipation experience. It was a tumultuous journey, but ultimately, it brought me closer to understanding the importance of seeking help and the incredible support available in times of need.

My story is a reminder to all who suffer from digestive issues that sometimes, the road to recovery is as challenging as it is enlightening. In the end, it was a beam of light through the storm, a moment that, while challenging, brought a profound sense of relief and gratitude.