A Mommy Story

There are many firsts we look forward to in our lives: our first day of school, first kiss, first real-paying job, etc.

First hemorrhoid? Not exactly something to cheer about.

(It gets far worse from here on in, folks. Not Katie Couric “look-at-my-colon” detailed, but still more than some want to know. You’ve been warned.)

Thanks to a combination of pregnancy, a sedentary job, and a minor stomach bug, I developed my very own first hemorrhoid this weekend. How I managed to escape one of these with my first pregnancy, I have no idea. Though I had a c-section with Cordy, I now have a preview of what it will feel like post-birth if I am successful with my VBAC. And I’m scared.

The pain started after the stomach bug on Thursday. By Friday evening, walking and sitting were becoming difficult. Naturally, fate had to pick this weekend to do this to me: Aaron left mid-day Friday for a stage combat workshop, leaving me a single parent all weekend.

I knew something was wrong back there, but I figured it was something that would just go away. Everything I’ve read said that hemorrhoids were common late in pregnancy, and are nothing major. Stopping by the store, I bought some Tucks pads, figuring they would get rid of this little discomfort quickly.

By Saturday, though, the pain was something I couldn’t ignore. I felt like such a wimp – hemorrhoids are supposed to be a little uncomfortable, but nothing to cry over. I was supposed to get together with my friend L, but I doubted I could handle going out for long.

I tried to talk around the issue when I called L, thinking up several reasons why I couldn’t get together, before I finally fessed up to what was going on and told her the entire embarrassing story.

First sign of being in real pain: telling a friend about your backside troubles. A true friend won’t think you’re insane when telling her about your ‘roid. She understood, and agreed that I should not be in so much pain. I decided that maybe I wasn’t such a wuss, and went to an urgent care while L watched Cordy.

Second sign of being in real pain: willing to deal with the embarrassment of letting strangers examine your ass. I was expecting to be laughed out of the office by the doctor, but it turns out coming to the urgent care office was exactly what I needed to do.

Of course, I couldn’t just develop a small one for my first. No, that would be too easy. If we’re going to do something, let’s go all the way, right? According to WebMD, there are four types of hemorrhoids, each more severe than the next. For my first, I went straight to fourth degree: thrombosed hemorrhoid. You can read the full details at that link, but the summary is it has a blood clot in it, is extremely painful, and in most cases requires medical assistance.

It was then I got to experience the other new pain of having two shots of lidocaine in that delicate area to numb it. At least I got to practice my labor breathing and try visualizing a happy place. You can bet that happy place didn’t involve a doctor staring at my naked butt while putting a needle into it.

After the shots, the pain was gone for awhile, and the entire procedure of removing the clot took less than five minutes. He then put a bandage over it, gave me a prescription for some ointment to help it heal, and sent me on my way.

It took three pharmacies to find one that had the ointment in stock. By that point, the lidocaine had worn off, and walking was damn near impossible. At the third, they told me they didn’t have the generic in stock, so I would have to either pay full price for the name brand or they could call around and find another pharmacy that might have it.

Third sign you’re in real pain: you pay way too much money for a tube of prescription hemorrhoid ointment because you can’t bear the thought of having to go to another pharmacy. At that point I just wanted to get home and lay on the couch.

I arrived home to find Cordy was asleep. L quickly gathered up her son and left me to take a nap also. I was so worn out from the experience, I fell asleep quickly. The doctor had made it sound like I would be pain-free right away, but that doesn’t seem to be the case.

Today I’m still hurting, but I hope it is getting better. Cordy has been hyperactive all weekend, making it difficult to rest. I’ve at least reached the point where I don’t care about sharing this very personal story with anyone, since I’m telling the entire internet at the moment. If anything, it serves as a lesson to other pregnant women: eat your fiber, drink your water, and stay healthy. Save the real pain for labor and the hemorrhoids you might get from labor, not some stupid pregnancy hemorrhoid before the real fun begins.