I Went to the Hospital Thinking It Was Labor—Guess What It Was?

So, let me set the scene.

It was a Tuesday night, somewhere between The Great Nesting Spree and The I-Can’t-See-My-Toes Anymore phase. I’d been feeling a bit off all day—tight belly, some cramping, a strange pressure that made me waddle extra wide. Around 11 PM, I flopped onto the couch and announced to my partner, “I think it’s happening.”

He shot up like a squirrel on espresso. “The baby?!”

“Maybe,” I said, rubbing my belly dramatically like I was in a movie. “Or maybe… something’s off.”

Cue mild contractions—or so I thought. They weren’t exactly rhythmic, but they felt intense. And let’s be honest: by the third trimester, even a sneeze can feel like a contraction if you haven’t pooped in two days.

Still, I called the hospital. The nurse on the line did the usual:

• “Are they coming every five minutes?”

• “How long do they last?”

• “Can you talk through them?”

“Barely,” I said between grimaces. My partner had already thrown our hospital bags into the trunk. I was trying to breathe calmly, but I’ll admit—I was lowkey excited. This was it! I was finally going to meet my baby!

Cut to us speed-waddling into the maternity unit.

I was admitted. They strapped the monitors on. I lay there, blinking at the ceiling, waiting for the moment they’d say, “You’re 5 centimeters! Let’s get you a birthing tub!”

But after a while, the nurse gave me a strange look.

“You’re not having contractions.”

“Wait, what?”

“There’s nothing showing on the monitor. Your uterus is calm.”

I blinked. “Then what am I feeling?”

She smiled, almost too gently. “Have you, uh… passed any gas lately?”

And that, dear reader, is when it hit me. Like a truck made of tacos and cabbage: It was gas. Very dramatic, trapped, unforgiving third-trimester gas.

I was not in labor. I just needed to fart.

The nurse handed me a cup of water and some ice chips—probably to soothe my deflated ego—and left me to sit with the reality that I had dragged myself to the hospital at midnight because of gas. My partner tried not to laugh. I tried not to cry.

I think we both failed.

The Third Trimester is a Humbling Place

Here’s the thing no one tells you: by the end of pregnancy, your body has zero chill. Everything feels like something. Your ligaments are loose, your organs are squished, and your digestive system is just trying to exist under the pressure of a full-grown watermelon.

And gas? It doesn’t show up quietly. It bubbles up like a villain in a Marvel movie and disguises itself as labor. I’ve since learned this is incredibly common. Some women show up with indigestion so painful it mimics contractions. Others mistake Braxton Hicks for the real deal. And some of us? We just need to pass wind in peace.

So, What Did I Learn From My ‘Gas Trip’?

• Track your symptoms, but don’t panic over every cramp. Sometimes it’s just your uterus stretching or your baby practicing karate.

• It’s okay to not know. You’ve never done this before—how would you know the difference between a contraction and a gas bubble?

• Humility is part of the journey. The moment I laughed about it, I felt better. Okay, maybe not immediately, but a few days later? Hilarious.

• Pack a snack. Because being sent home from the hospital with no baby and no dignity is easier to swallow with a granola bar.

Final Thoughts

If you’re pregnant and paranoid, I promise—you’re not alone. The final weeks are confusing and full of bodily surprises. But even if you take a few “false alarms” to the ER, it’s always better to be safe than sorry. Worst case? You’ll walk out a little embarrassed, a little gassy, and a lot wiser.

And now, every time I feel a twinge, I take a breath, do a little side stretch… and maybe grab a gas-relief tea before I call the labor ward.

Because next time? I’m not going in unless I’m sure it’s not just a burrito pretending to be a baby.