The Birth of Terrance | Part 1: The Unexpected Pregnancy

A Labor of Constipation

The Kimberly Diaries - Archive 003

It started innocently enough. A little bloating. A little pressure. A few uncomfortable

moments. Nothing that suggested my life was about to become a medical drama.

But as the days turned into weeks, something began to grow.

My stomach.

And grow.

And GROW.

Eventually, I stood in front of the mirror, held my belly, and realized something horrifying.

I LOOKED SIX MONTHS PREGNANT.

Now, I’ve been pregnant before. I know what six months looks like on my little frame.

And apparently, I was expecting again.

Only this time, there was no positive pregnancy test.

No ultrasound announcement.

No gender reveal.

Just a whole lot of poop refusing to leave the premises.

Naturally, I named him Terrance.

The Contractions Begin

Every cramp became a contraction.

Every gurgle became a sign of impending labor.

Every trip to the bathroom became another disappointing visit to the delivery room.

I’d sit there, hopeful.

This could be it.

This could finally be the moment.

But Terrance had other plans.

He wasn’t ready.

He was comfortable.

He had apparently signed a long-term lease.

And then came the pressure.

You know the kind.

The kind that makes you think something is RIGHT THERE.

Suddenly, I realized…

THE BABY IS CROWNING!

Somebody call labor and delivery!

WE HAVE A CODE BROWN!

A High-Risk Delivery

By this point, I’d tried everything short of sending Terrance an official eviction notice.

Laxatives. More laxatives. Encouragement. Negotiations.

Nothing seemed to convince this child that his lease had expired.

Even the medical professionals were getting involved.

There were scans.

There were appointments.

There were consultations.

And still, Terrance remained firmly committed to his current residence.

No baby shower had been planned.

No nursery had been decorated.

And frankly, at this point, I wasn’t sure whether I needed an obstetrician, a

gastroenterologist, or a landlord.

The Waiting Game

As I write this, Terrance has not yet made his grand entrance into the world.

Mother is uncomfortable.

The contractions are unpredictable.

The delivery date remains unknown.

But hope is alive.

And when that glorious day finally arrives, there will be no balloons, no cigars, and absolutely no gender reveal. Just one exhausted woman emerging from the bathroom, whispering…

“It’s a boy.”

⸻

TO BE CONTINUED…

The Birth of Terrance: A Labor of Constipation

Part 2 ➡

Coming Soon: The Eviction of Terrance

No more womb at the inn.

Disclaimer: Terrance is not an actual baby. This is a humorous account of a very real and very frustrating digestive situation. No children were harmed in the making of this story. My dignity, however, remains under investigation.