Almost five years ago, as my due date came, passed and gave me the middle finger, I waited and seethed and glared at this unwavering bump in my lap.

Yeah, yeah, yeah, I was supposed to be centered and peaceful, enjoying these last hours of freedom before the baby bomb. But it was hard to be calm as om when I was hobbling to the toilet every 45 seconds, burping up dinner from days past in a sour fog, and woefully over-tired from the aforementioned sleep-interrupting bathroom breaks.

After ten months and 9 days, I was ready. Sure, I’d skimmed most of the “important” baby books and nearly fell asleep in the Baby CPR Class but I was still ready.

Ready and waiting for the tell-tale “as seen on TV” sign that baby has it’s bags packed and jaunty hat on just so, and is ready to explode out of your vagina – the water break.

My water broke as we sat late Sunday night watching an episode of Dexter (a clear sign of the gore to come). I stood slowly as warmth flooded down my thighs and excitedly locked eyes with my husband, “It’s HAPPENING.”

Being the practical woman that I am, I went and stood in the bathtub to curb the mess, while bags and pillows were gathered to go to the hospital. I then graduated to the toilet, kicked off my wet maternity jeans (with an extra good riddance punt) and let the remaining fluid collect in the toilet bowl.

Minutes later as we hopped into the back of a cab, I realized the wet in my crotch was still drooling out and pooling right into the open pores of the cushioned cab seat. The contractions hadn’t started so I had nothing to distract my brain from thinking, “This is SUCH a dick move.”

This cab was now sullied and sweet with my baby’s pre-entrance essence.

When we got to the hospital, I scurried out of the cab as quickly as I could and immediately sat in one of those ancient hospital wheelchairs.

Did I need it? No.

Did I like being pushed like a lazy and fancy VIP? Very much so.

Did my water continue to break all over the seat of that wheelchair? Oh, yes.

Over the next few hours I spread my juices all over that hospital. All totaled, I sprayed spurts of my sweet nectar:

  • Through my underwear and pants
  • On the examining bed
  • In and on the examining room toilet
  • All over the hands and wrists of three student nurses

The last gasps of my insides settled onto the seat of the cab that eventually took us home, where I was asked to stay until I was in the deeper throes of labour. Or maybe the hospital just ran out of clean towels. I’m a bit fuzzy on that.

Once back inside, after I peeled my sopping bottoms off, I was surprised I could even blink or swallow. How was there any fluid at all left in my body? I was sure the baby was now sitting in a barren desert of a womb, surrounded by mirages and dust.

Not a single word in any of the books I’d flipped through and spilled a snack on, had mentioned water breaking and then continuing to break until the end of time.

But then there’s the thing. There is so much you will never read or discover about having a baby or becoming a parent until it actually is happening to you, and you’re avoiding eye contact with the taxi driver in the rear view mirror. All you can do when it comes to your pregnancy surprise is just roll with it, take deep breaths and pay cash so they can never track you down for the deep cleaning bill.


Brooke Takhar is a Vancouver-based mama to one goon and busy body to all. She loves the Internet, glittery nail polish, over-sharing and teaching her kid outdated dance moves. If you really love her, you'll fight in public.


  1. Me too. Me…too. It seemed like such a good idea at the time for my midwife to break my bag of waters for me, but she forgot to mention that I wouldn’t stop gushing until the baby was born. IT WAS EVERYWHERE! All over the birth ball. My flip flops. The floor. The bed. The bathroom. It’s a wonder that no one actually slipped and fell in the puddles. Someone needs to write a pregnancy book with a full chapter on this.

  2. You are vulgar, disgusting human being, and I love you. Lol.

    You have Such a way with words and whatever that vag juice is called. Kudos to you, ma’am. You didn’t even mention how disappointed you must have been to be sent home sans baby.

    • Ask my husband how happy he was carting my leaking ass, two pillows and a heavy overnight bag to the hospital THRICE. (Hint: SUPER THRILLED)

  3. Dear Brooke, My water with my second broke at 32 weeks and continued to break and explode and flow for another week until they induced me. This water will never end until that fetus evacuates your loins as it is actually their urine and keeps being produced. That being said…tip the driver well 🙂

  4. You were a human sprinkler, really, squeeging your waters all over the planet. You saved us from drought, now that I think about it!

    Oh, and this business is the basis for me to love you forever:

    Did I need it? No.
    Did I like being pushed like a lazy and fancy VIP? Very much so.

  5. Laughing my ass off. With Adam my water broke and I didn’t give birth to him until… 4 DAYS LATER!!!! I had 4 days of water replenishing and continuing to gush out everywhere. 4 days of full on labor during the night and then as soon as the sun would come up the contractions would disappear. Labour isn’t for the squeamish… is it?

  6. You didn’t disappoint, lady! Haha. I did not have this experience because I was induced at week 42. I do remember that heartburn though. I am surprised they sent you home. I thought that would be a problem, the baby staying in there as the amniotic sac was on its way out? When that happened to my mom in the 70s they went right for emergency c-section. But then again, 70s.

  7. Oh, yes. I shared that joy. And then 24 hours later, they started pumping me full of anti-biotics because apparently the baby is supposed to have come by then. Isn’t labor fun?

  8. My water broke but I don’t recall it being so..abundant. It happened at midnight, and I’d been asleep, so perhaps I just don’t remember. I did get to stay at the hospital once we got there. Maybe my hospital had just gotten a linens delivery or something.

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