My Baby the Kick Boxer.

Today, I had a 9 a.m. conference call to present concepts to a client—a new client, at that. Now, I'm not usually at my best at that hour. In fact, as a general rule, it's really not a good idea to even speak to me before 9:30 or so. But I knew it was important to make a good impression, so I made an extra effort this morning.  I made sure to get moving as soon as my alarm went off, had a healthy breakfast and got to work with enough time before the meeting to go over my materials. In other words, I was in good shape.

The meeting started, and my confidence level was still high. I jotted notes in the margins to make extra sure I knew exactly what I was going to say. And when the time came to speak, I launched right into my presentation.

And then the kicking started.

Kicks aimed directly at my bladder.

A bladder still full of coffee and juice.

I was about two sentences in to my little speech when the first one connected. Hard. I immediately lost my train of thought, stopping mid-word to catch my breath. I waited for a moment, but that seemed to be it, so I started speaking again.

Then, just as I was getting back into the groove, she started using my bladder as a punching bag again. I don't know what it had done to offend her, but she seemed quite displeased, and was intent on having her revenge. As the assault continued, all thoughts of the materials in front of me disappeared. Instead, the only thing I could think was, "Oh my God, I'm going to pee my pants. Please don't let me pee my pants."

I shuddered, and in a choked voice which I can only hope was too low for the client to hear, said, "Guys, I'm losing it. Someone take over for me."

One of my coworkers swooped in to my rescue, redirecting the conversation so I could get myself together. I breathed deeply and mentally shouted at the baby to Cut. It. Out. NOW. If I could have, I would have stood on my head to dislodge her. Instead, I just rocked in my seat, distracting both me and her.

Within a few minutes she stopped, and when there was a lull in the conversation I charged back in—completing my presentation without any further interruptions from the future kick boxer in my belly. After the meeting, I shamefacedly explained what had happened to the folks in the room. Luckily, they just laughed, and told me next time to just get up and go to the rest room if I needed to.

But I think I'll just hope it doesn't happen again. Once was enough for that particular experience.