As much as I love the idea of pushing a small human out of my lady bits, I sometimes wonder if 40+ years of periods is worth it. I started the Monthly Trip to Hell when I was ten years old. In the summer. Before most of my friends. As you can imagine, I was thrilled (bold and indented for emphasis). For one week every month for nearly the rest of my adult life I would be uncomfortable, unhappy, and in pain - what ten year old wouldn't feel thoroughly optimistic about that?
{completely realistic advertising. Good job, Tampax. Good job}
Sure, it's a small price to pay for the love and joy that a child brings into your life, but it also happens to SUCK. Big time. I mean, unless laying in bed with a heating pad on your abdomen, cold washcloth on your forehead, assortment of midol, motrin, ibuprofen, and pamprin on your bedside table, and buying a box of pads the size of a pillow sounds like your idea of a rip roaring good time. If so, I don't think we'll be good friends.
But seriously, is it worth it? Cramps so bad that it feels like your inner organs are trying to climb out of your body just to avoid the wrath of your uterus (fun fact: one day I couldn't find the heating pad, so I plugged my laptop in to charge and set it on my abdomen until it got hot). Migraines that suck what's left of the fun out of your life. Pimples the size of Arkansas. Welcome to my life.
I suppose one day if I ever have children (which I'm not planning on), I'll be nursing a baby and enjoying my break from periods and sigh with a smile, thinking "Boy, was it worth it!" But that day is not today.
Rant over. 8 years down, 32+ years to go.
xoxo
Eliza
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