Symptoms  + General

Week 15: My nausea hadn’t completely subsided, but was a lot better. I definitely have to gag when I brush my teeth and scraping my tongue is a total pain, but I’m no longer puking several times a week. Always a plus.

Week 16: Finally! I felt great week 16. My nausea was on its way out, I was into my second trimester and I was so relieved. I should’ve known better. It seems like every time I step back, chill out and think hey – maybe everything is okay, something goes wrong.

I was still in the phase of needing to get up thirty-seven times a night to go pee. No biggie and nothing I couldn’t handle. It really didn’t even bother me. Until I couldn’t pee.

Yeah, you read that right. One night I got up, ready to burst and I COULD NOT PEE.

Let me tell you what’s way more uncomfortable than getting up to pee a million times a night: HAVING TO PEE REALLY BAD AND NOT BEING ABLE TO. It was the oddest, uncomfortable, awkward feelings. My bladder was completely full, it just felt like my urethra was completely blocked.

So I took to the internet.

It was still 6 am and I didn’t want to text my midwives that early, so I started reading. I found out that majority of the women this had happened to, which was hardly any, had something called an incarcerated uterus and not being able to pee was what tipped them off.

Some of these women said they’d suffered miscarriages, had pregnancy complications, even had to have the uterus surgically altered into the correct position. And all of them said they had to push their doctors to see them and investigate because an incarcerated uterus is so rare that no one ever really thinks the mom is anything but overreacting.

Luckily, my midwives aren’t like that. When I told my midwife, she consulted another midwife in the practice who said the only time she’d ever encountered a pregnant woman not being able to pee, was when her uterus was incarcerated. Rare as it may be, it does happen. She got me in for an ultrasound the next day.

That day, I was a crying, hysterical mess (AGAIN). I knew my uterus was incarcerated, I just knew it. And I knew it posed a threat to the pregnancy. I was terrified.

By the time the appointment rolled around the next day, I was so nervous I just wanted to puke. For like, eight hours because my appointment wasn’t until 2 pm. When I arrived and was sent back to get the ultrasound, in typical fashion that I’m not unfamiliar with, the sonographer said,

“Um, so what are you here for exactly?” Despite the fact that I had written out the reason on the chart she was reading.

I explained my pee issues and how this is indicative of an incarcerated uterus.

“Yeah, in my twenty years of doing this, I’ve never seen that.” She clearly thought I was overreacting.

So she puts the cold jelly on my stomach, which I always question the ingredients of in my head (parabens?!) and puts the stick to my stomach.

“I need to go get the doctor.”

That’s never a good sign, is it? I felt both vindicated in that I wasn’t overreacting and terrified that she basically just confirmed that my uterus was incarcerated.

So the doctor comes in and I like him immediately, despite the fact that the last male OB I saw gave me the most painful internal exam of my life. He was just one of those likable people; funny, cordial and competent. He explained the rarity of an incarcerated uterus and my options.

Basically, we had to try to flip that sucker then and there. If I wanted one, I could have an epidural. I declined the epidural and went into mama mode. Nothing was going to harm my baby; if we had to get my uterus in the correct position – that’s just what we’d have to do.

First, he tried with his fingers. This was not fun. Then he tried with the ultrasound stick, which was also not fun but didn’t hurt as bad. I was breathing through it and squeezing my husband’s hands as hard as I could. The doctor was amazing. Constantly checking on me, explaining what he was doing, what was happening and telling me I was a good sport.

After that didn’t work, he tried to explain in the most gentle and polite way possible that I needed to get on my knees with my butt up in the air for them to try in that position. Yes, I had to get on all fours and stick my ass up in the air so that my doctor could try to manually move my uterus into the correct position.

At this point, the sonographer, who originally thought I was overreacting, was really nice. She was constantly checking on me and calling me “sweetie” which made me feel better. It was actually less painful than on my back. They tried to push it into position with the sonogram stick, and while it moved when they applied pressure, it moved right back into the wrong position.

After about an hour, they decided I’d had enough.

The doctor explained that the situation wasn’t horrible. The good news was that when they applied pressure, my uterus would move. Usually, with an incarcerated uterus, it won’t move at all. He had faith that mine would move and instructed me to do the knee to chest position several times a day.

If it didn’t move…he explained that they’d need to give me an epidural to go in and make sure it not only moves but also stays in the correct position. This terrified me.

He said to come back in a week to check, and if it hadn’t moved by then, he’d give me one more week.

Week 17: Since going to the OB and finding out my uterus was incarcerated, I spent the next week doing everything I could to flip it. This included:

  • yoga
  • inversions for as long as I could stand them (as if the baby was breech)
  • knee to chest (and ass up in the air) position for at least thirty minutes at a time
  • prenatal massage
  • chiropractic appointments
  • seeing a Gyrotonic instructor (I’m still not even sure what this is, but I did it)

I was incredibly stressed this week.My uterus moving into the correct position was all I wanted. I didn’t even want an epidural for the birth – and now they may have to give me one to manually go into my vagina and flip my uterus? It was kind of a nightmare and I was freaking the eff out.

Both my OB and midwives were helpful, telling me they had every confidence that my uterus would move. I wasn’t so sure. I went for my second appointment a week later and was so nervous I thought I’d puke. Not from morning sickness, just from stress. My go-to reaction is vomiting – fun huh?

It was a new ultrasound tech this time and I explained our ordeal. She warmed up the jelly for me, put it all over my stomach and said: “Looks normal to me.”

I tried to stop myself from crying like a psycho.

Who cries when they’re told their uterus looks normal? ME!

She got the doctor, who took a look and exclaimed, “You’re cured!” That’s when I first realized I loved my new OB.

He gave me an early anatomy scan, as the baby is measuring ahead anyway. Everything looks good and my little nugget is healthy as can be!

Cravings + Food

Week 15: Nothing. Totally normal. Not giving in to eating more sugary foods because then I know I’ll crave them more!

16: See above.

17: Maybe more carbs and sweets than usual.


Week 15: BEYOND EXCITED AND NOT AT ALL NERVOUS. No sarcasm, I’m totally serious. We found out the sex via early blood work that also detected any genetic or hereditary abnormalities – so we found out what we’re having and that our baby is healthy!

At this point, it’s hard to contain my excitement and how freaking thankful I am that our baby is healthy. I’m planning the nursery, picking out baby clothes and imagining life with this lil’ babe. I can’t wait!

Week 16: Well, this week I’m dealing with an incarcerated uterus. So I’m stressed, worried, anxious.

17: After my uterus moved into the correct position and we did the early anatomy scan and everything looked good, I am the following:

  • relieved
  • elated
  • thankful
  • excited
  • happy
  • not insanely anxious for once


Week 15: Going to my full body conditioning class twice a week, then usually yoga or spin or whatever other class.

16: Was told to stop working out immediately.

17: Still a little nervous to work out, giving it some time.

Weight Gain

Week 15: none

16: Two pounds

17: Three pounds


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