So I'm bored. I don't want to be at work and it's a very slow day. Who am I kidding? I never want to be at work. I love what I do but I feel that my true calling is at home. More on that another day. :)
I was thinking...I don't think I've ever given a background story to my whole ttc adventure. It's a long one so I'm going to break it up into parts. I warn you now...this may get graphic with way too much information so if you are shy or squimish I recommend you close your eyes. And if you aren't into long drawn out posts...run! Run now because I have about 18.5 years of info that you really could care less about coming your way.
OK...ready? Remember, I warned you!
My problems started right off the bat. I'm not kidding, right from the beginning. It was November 2, 1992. I had softball try-outs that day so I woke up bright and early. When I went to the bathroom I noticed that I had started my first period. Seriously? On softball try-out day? This is ridiculous! I was ticked. And I was only 9 years old. (Yes, I remember the exact date, it was traumatizing!) I had fortunately learned about this from Girl Scouts and some silly cartoon movie my dad made me watch. I say fortunately because as I've mentioned before my mother abandoned me at 6 years old...so the alternative was learning from my dad. I'll take Girl Scouts and a movie any day thankyouverymuch!
Anyhoo...I knew right away something was strange. From day one I had cramps and super heavy bleeding. From everything I learned your first period was supposed to be "practice." I also recall being taught that a period is anywhere from 3-7 days. Now I realize looking back that some of the things I were taught were incorrect, but some of it definitely made me realize that something was up. My periods were way more than 7 days, they were anywhere from 10-15 days. Even in my 9 year old little brain I knew this wasn't right. But did I tell anyone? NO! I was far too humiliated. Not only did I not tell anyone about my issues, I didn't even tell anyone that I had actually started my period. Instead I would just steal pads from my aunt while I was at my grandmothers house. I was too shy and too embarrassed. Remember, other than Girl Scouts and a video my dad rented, I had never had this conversation with my family. Oh wait! My aunt did buy me a book called What's Happening To My Body: Book For Girls. But like I said, I had never actually talked to anyone about this.
That Christmas my cover was blown. I had been flushing pads down the toilet as to conceal any evidence when I apparently didn't check to make sure the little paper things that cover the sticky part made it down. My aunt went in the bathroom right after me on Christmas Day and discovered the secret. She confronted me and I tried to lie but there was nothing I could do, I was caught. So you would think after being outed I would come clean about my issues wouldn't you? Nope. I still didn't tell anyone about the horrible pain and excessive bleeding.
My aunt even bought me a calendar to track my period. She sat down with me to fill out the most recent one. After marking 3 days she said "that's it right?" Um no I said. I made her keep going but had her stop at 5 because I was embarrassed. Recently I found out that her period has been only 3 days long her entire life and she has never so much as even had the slightest cramp. To which I replied "YOU SUCK!"
This went on for 8 years. I suffered in silence and figured that this had to go away eventually. When I was 17 I decided I couldn't take it anymore. I told my dad's girlfriend about my issues and she said she would make me a doctor's appointment. I never heard another word about it again. Then 3 weeks later my dad told me that he was taking me to the doctor. I had forgotten about my conversation with his girlfriend and asked why. He said to me "Aren't you having some sort of girl problem." Ummmm ok. I could not believe he was going to take me to see a gyn! I figured his gf would do it. I protested but lost.
When I got back to the exam room the nurse gave me the gown and instructions. I was shaking. I sat on the table and when the doctor walked in to my horror it was a man. Are you kidding me? My dad's gf made an appointment for a 17 year old terrified, modest girl to go to a male gyn? I was flipping out! I didn't know what to do so I just decided to take my mind to a happy place and pray it would be over quickly.
Fortunately the doctor didn't do a full exam with that duckbill thing. He said that since I wasn't sexually active it wasn't necessary. All I could say was THANK YOU JESUS! Although looking back, with the symptoms I was having he should have done a more thorough exam.
He said that he could help me by prescribing me the pill. I was like ummmm ok. (I should also note that I was not raised Catholic and had no idea about the pill, the ethical issues and the harm it does.) The doctor said he would talk to my dad so that he understood that I was not taking it because I was sexually active but because it would help to regulate me and numb the pain. I was thankful for this. I was afraid my dad would think that I was lying about the issues to get a Rx for the pill.
I started taking them right away and immediately noticed a difference. However, at the same time the migraines I had been having since I was very young were progressively getting worse. It took me years to put two and two together.
To be continued...
