So this is what it’s come to…
It’s almost as if my body has decided to revolt against me.
Menstruation after motherhood is straight up cruel.
I’m wearing a pair of leopard print, full bottom, granny panties to bed. Sayonara thong back. Why you ask? Oh the reason is ridiculous. After giving birth to 3 beautiful boys, I had a tubal ligation. A procedure I would do again in a heartbeat, because I know we are done having children. But I definitely would have thought twice about this decision if someone had warned me about what having my tubes tied would mean to my body, my menstrual cycle and my energy level.
The baby is 4 months and 3 weeks old. This is now the 6th time I’ve had my period since his birth. Crazy right? And this time, Aunt Flo decided to get here a week before she was scheduled. There is nothing worse than an unwanted and unexpected house guest when you have a family to think about.
Many family members act differently after you have another child. You can have jealous brothers and sisters, wishing that they too where adding children to their mix. Your own parents can either be supportive or think you have lost your damn mind, and usually, your other children are either pleased or disappointed by having a new sibling… but Aunt Flo? Aunt Flo had handled it the worst.
She never just walks in through the front door at lunchtime anymore… Nope, now her flight comes in at midnight or 2 am. You’re groggy and tired and well… bleeding like you’re dying. Aunt Flo can do that to you. Because you’ve known her a long damn time. You’re used to her bullshit. But after kids? Her bullshit has been magnified 10 times over. I really wouldn’t mind the old Aunt Flo, with her old ways. But the fact that she’s waking me up every 2 hours for clean underwear is incorrigible. I mean, the bitch has been in my life for 24 years. I should already know what’s up. Now she is no longer comfortable with the bedding I have, the towels I have, the tampons I have… now, after 24 years of “sisterhood” Aunt Flo needs pads again. Really? What in the sweet fuck is that? Pads? I’m not 12.
Nope, not 12. The 3 children in front of me asking for fruit snacks and Slurpees are a daily reminder of my age. Sadly, Aunt Flo hasn’t gotten the memo. That bitch never checks her inbox. EVER! Honestly, after that last 5 months of the new Aunt Flo, I’m really starting to miss the first time Aunt Flo showed up unannounced.
It was a track meet in the 8th grade and I was 13. I was wearing green short shorts with gold trim (think 80’s) and my stomach hurt horribly. Of course I thought it was nerves. I had just finished a 100 yard dash and I was warming up for my long jumps. I was young. I was gangly. I was boobless. I thought I had years to go until I met Flo. That’s when Aunt Flo decided to sashay into the track meet. Decked out in a flowing red dress, red hat as if she was about to watch the Kentucky Derby, 6 inch stiletto heels and all. I left the track meet in pain and shame, dreading to tell my mother that we’d have to set up a room for my “unannounced visitor”.
I begged Mom not to tell my father. Although we were close I just didn’t think that “my” Aunt Flo was any of “his” business. Of course, he brought me home a dozen white roses and I cried. I didn’t want to have to hang out with Aunt Flo every 28 days. I didn’t want to be a “woman”. I was still just a girl.
Aunt Flo and I have never been besties. I mean, how could we be? Always wondering if she was coming… or going because Hubby had already come. Pregnancies were a lovely and wanted distraction from her monthly visits. But then our final son was born. And I guess Aunt Flo really missed me. Or she is now working with Tampax and the pad companies as a lobbyist… either way, she’s obviously teamed up with Lady Macbeth and they are, at present, playing a high stakes game of Texas Hold-em in my uterus.
Lady Macbeth just took the pot with a straight flush. I need to go lay down.
19 kids and counting? That Duggar woman is starting to seem like the smartest chick on earth.