I’ve long been a water nut. Not always, but especially once I started Weight Watchers many years ago (and stopped, and started again, but that’s another post) and saw the miracle of lost water weight, I was a convert. Water seems to be the cure for whatever ails ye. I noticed how much better I felt when I got my two quarts per day. Headaches fade away, rings fit better. The sun would shine and birds would chirp. I began to notice the alternate differences, too. If I had less water, suddenly I felt sluggish, and had to coax my wedding ring on and off my finger.

I knew pregnancy would throw things off just a little, but I figured if I just upped my intake a bit, I could keep on top of things. Sure, my rings stopped fitting around 12 weeks, but they were already snug due to extra weight I had put on pre-pregnancy, so that was to be expected. I kept drinking my 2-3 quarts per day, and all seemed well.

And then it got warm. My feet started to swell somewhat alarmingly, though a good night’s sleep and upping my minimum water intake to 3 quarts seemed to help. The last couple of weeks, even that hasn’t been enough. The best I can get out of my feet at the moment is “only slightly puffy.” And I used to have pretty nice feet! Alas, now they range from pillowy to sausage-like. Charming. But my seemingly good water intake has no noticeable effect. I mean, I suppose it might be keeping the worst of it at bay, but it certainly doesn’t bring things back to normal.

Last night was yet another wake-up call on hydration. Around 6:30pm, just sitting around watching TV, I noticed a contraction. Not painful, not particularly different from the occasional ones I’ve had for several weeks now. But then it happened again. I checked the time. I got probably six in about 45 minutes. As instructed, I dutifully contacted the on-call doctor. She asked how much water I’d had that day (2.5 quarts so far, thank you), and if I’d been particularly active (not in the least). As to be expected, I was instructed to lie down and drink as much water as I could. She also made sure to remind me to empty my bladder often. Since the great irony is that two causes for contractions are dehydration and a full bladder.

I was mildly skeptical, since after already consuming nearly 3 quarts of water, I couldn’t possibly be dehydrated. But she said that, if I came in, the first thing they’d do was hook me up to IV fluids. And since I’m really not a fan of unnecessary needles in my arm, I figured I’d follow orders at home. If the contractions didn’t peter out in an hour and a half, I was to call back.

Sure enough, one hour, half a gallon of water, and about nine trips to the bathroom later, the contractions had faded.

This was a wake-up call on several levels. For one, I was suddenly faced with the reality that things can change awfully quickly. Though I doubt I would have delivered the babies last night, there was suddenly a very real possibility of being placed on restrictions or drugs to postpone labor. Of course, that possibility had always been out there, but it suddenly felt real. It also alerted me to just how much water I should be drinking. It seems incredible. I can hardly keep up, just one refill of the Nalgene after another. And I thought I was peeing a lot before…

But hey, whatever it takes, right? Anything to keep these babies on the inside just a few more weeks. Even if it means I spend 1/3 of the day drinking water and another 1/3 on the toilet. If you see my eyes floating in their sockets, you’ll know I’m doing well.

Time for another refill.