I’m sure this is too much information, but…

I want to warn all of those unsuspecting women (and men since it could also apply in certain situations) out there about the perils of the ultrasound. You see the pregnant women on the sitcoms or dramas, with the nurse running the wand over the hugely distended belly while the couple waits with bated breath to see images of their yet-to-be-born bundle of love. They’re happy, excited, breathless.

But no one ever tells you that the woman is filled with like a gallon of water and has to pee in a big bad way. Have YOU ever heard this? Not me. It’s like the pregnant women of the world have united to keep this from the rest of us.

So when my doc sent me to have a pelvic ultrasound (just to check out some things — not too serious I suspect), I was like: Sure, no problem. Then I was told that I’d have to drink 32 ounces of water an hour and a half before the procedure — and not pee. Um, how do you drink that much water and not pee?

Well, I’d rank it up there as one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. Seriously. I was ready to pee a full 45 minutes before the scheduled procedure. I tried to think of ways to distract myself from the sensation. Driving to the appointment helped. Yet the minute I got out of the car and started walking into the building, I knew I had a long 20 minutes in front of me. The waiting room in radiology was full of people and I did my best to look unconcerned, flipping the pages of Glamour and doing my best to feign an interest in Meg Ryan’s new life, while crossing and uncrossing my legs and keeping my head down so no one could see the agony on my face.

By the time Stacy (or Tracy or Lacy) came to get me for my special moment, I was almost doubled over. Walking was difficult. She took me to a room down the hall and began by asking me questions. I was shifting my weight back and forth from foot to foot. Finally I asked, “How long does this procedure take?” Her response? About 10 or 15 minutes.

10 or 15 minutes? I could explode way before then. I was sure I’d be the first person to pee in the middle of their ultrasound. And to make matters worse, she had to put pressure on the area of my bladder with that little wand they use. Pressure on an already-about-to-explode bladder. Through the entire process, I knit my fingers together and took as many deep breaths as possible. I tried to think about Dev, about Florida, about anything but that stupid wand taunting my full bladder.

Finally she nicely told me I could go to the bathroom. And I sat there for about five minutes, letting it all out. The next time I see Rachel and Ross or some other couple calmly and excitedly awaiting the pictures of their progeny, I’ll at least know the true story. There is NO WAY a woman can grin that big when she has to pee that badly. No way.