Prom Queen

I don’t think I’ve ever posted the official diagnosis of what’s going on with my embattled self. It’s called PROM, or pPROM. Preterm Premature Rupture of Membranes. (AKA: The Thing That Happens To Pregnant Women That Really Fucking Sucks A Whole Lot And That Is Scarier Than Anything You Could Ever Imagine, or TTTHTPWTRFSAWLATISTAYCEI. PROM is way easier to remember, though.)

Whenever the nurses leave the computer monitor on in my room and I can sneak a peek at the other patients (never any names, just room numbers, how dilated they are, who their doctor is and what status their membranes are in) I search in vain for other PROM patients. There are SROMs (spontaneous rupture – that’s at full term, I think) and AROMs (assisted rupture) but never any other PROMs. That’s good for the other pregnant people in the world.

Once there was a BBOW and I had to look it up on google because I didn’t know what it was. Bulging Bag of Waters in case you’re interested. That’s not a good one to have when you’re 18 weeks like she was. Though at a different time a nurse told me a great story about a woman who had BBOW at 19 weeks, was checked into the hospital and basically hung upside down like a bat for ELEVEN WEEKS until her baby was born perfectly healthy. Apparently, this BBOW lady had some gigantor boobs that practically smothered her the entire time she was upside down. So, yeah, at least my boobs aren’t trying to suffocate me through all of this.

I was just sitting here wondering, other than being killed by boobs, what other situation would be yucky enough to make me happy to be in my situation. Being forced to run a marathon in China would qualify, I think. But more aptly, I started wondering which was worse, this PROM or my high school prom.

PROM – minute-by-minute life and death uncertainty
prom – minute-by-minute boy catastrophes

PROM – gigantic blood-type cross and screen bracelet strapped on wrist
prom – gigantic perfume-sprayed white flower strapped on wrist

PROM – stuck in bed with a view of a rooftop pipe thing
prom – stuck in Mazda with a view of the driver’s hash pipe thing

PROM – encouraged to  dull my senses with sleeping pills and screechy uterine monitoring devices
prom – encouraged to dull my senses with pot and screechy Mariah Carey slow dances

PROM – healthcare costs astronomical
prom – hair care costs astronomical

PROM – unpredictable gushing of various body fluids
prom – unpredictable gushing of various body fluids

PROM – gown is air-conditioned in the back
prom – gown was tight and hot

As you can see, it’s really a toss up. I’m going to have to go with PROM for being shittier. Though at least now I can wear comfortable clothes and I don’t have to fuss with a strapless push up bra.

27 weeks 3 days. That’s where we are today. Sunday night was another "oh shit, is it time?" night, with contractions 3-6 minutes apart for hours and hours. But we made it through.

Even a Mazda and a hash pipe couldn’t make this chaos more insane.

13 thoughts on “Prom Queen

  1. This was all the more hilarious because you switched the symptoms a few times accidentally. I am glad to see they are letting you smoke pot in the hospital though.


  2. So yea your situation is earily similar to my pProm nightmare in late April of this year. I was 28 weeks when it happened and made it to almost 32 weeks. I’ve been meaning to email you with encouragement but i’ve been a bit busy with a 3 month old (1 month adjusted age) maybe ill get around to it tonight. sending positive vibes your way.


  3. Have people been taking lots of pictures of you to the point where you wanted to strangle them? I remember that too. Oh and the awful food is most likely similar. I like your ability to make use of this time and write down these comparisons – maybe your next book idea perhaps?!


  4. Brilliant. You are friggin’ hilarious. Good lord. I know I don’t know you very well but — you’re my hero! Seriously!
    Hang tight Li’l Bean!! πŸ™‚


  5. I love that you can maintain your sense of humor through all of this. I send you “one more day” thoughts every day!!


  6. Ooh…you smoked pot when you were at PSHS? You were a baaaaaaaddddd girl, Kari!
    Laughing hysterically at this post. I hope you laughed a tiny bit while writing it πŸ™‚


  7. Shoot, Debbie, I was an east side girl. It was expected.
    No no no. I neither confirm nor deny any of the activities I had in senior high.


  8. You’re hysterical. And I mean that in the best of ways.
    You’ve made it such an incredibly long way!…go you! And quit looking at that monitor, it’s like institutional googling! Much love and strength to you!


  9. wow. humor in the face of scariness! you are amazing Kari! just wanted you to know that i’m still here…sending out good thoughts. i see a book in your future! “pPROM horrors and humors”


  10. The only possible payback for what hell this kid is putting you through is to share YOUR whole PROM experience with his girlfriend on their prom night 17 years from now … Hang in there, Kari, I’m checking your website more than TMZ these days. Sending prayers and love.


  11. Kari, you ARE so so funny. I now feel bad that I took a bunch of healthy-ish stuff to the hospital for you. I should have thrown in a little pot or at least a brownie with it. πŸ˜‰ Stay strong mama, I don’t know you very well except from the AM list but I think about you everyday. You are so amazingly strong and so damn funny!
    Muchos Besos y Carinos,


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