My Uterus is Falling Out

***Sing the title of this post to London Bridge. You're welcome***

I hate my period. No, I loathe my period. And maybe it's anti feminist of me, or I'm not embracing the natural female state, or whatever hippies like to say about it, but I cannot stand it. I hated it even more when I was younger, because it seemed so pointless to me. Now that I'm a member of the sexually active community, the only silver lining (red lining? awkward, sorry) is knowing that I'm not pregnant. Except for a few drunken encounters every now than then, I usually always use protection. But there's still always that what if in the back of your mind. What if I'm the 1% of people who aren't compatible with birth control pills? What if the condom has a teeny tiny, miniscule little shred in it that we don't notice? What if, what if, what if? So when mother nature rolls around every month, there is this immense weight taken off my shoulders. Yay! No baby! But it is almost immediately replaced with the weight of "Great. Now I have to bleed out of my vagina for the next five days."

This used to be the most terrifying sight when I was younger. Buying feminine products was always the most gut wrenching experience. When I first got my period, I used pads. That's how Mom did it, that's how Gradma did it, and that's how I was going to do it. That first year was hell. I would send my mother in to buy them for me and wait, cowering in the car, but one day she got fed up and told me that as a young lady I had to be responsible for buying my own pads. I was so angry. I slinked into the pharmacy and practically turned it into Mission Impossible style recon work. What if I run into someone I know? What if I accidentally knock something over and then everyone is staring at me? As these typical teenage thoughts are running through my mind, I walk past the tampons. Hmmm... Tampons. The mythical creature I was never allowed to use because they cause TSS. Well I was so pissed off at my mother I went ahead and bought them. and haven't looked back since. I know this is personal preference, but I'm a pretty active person and tampons truly changed my life. That doesn't take away from how awful periods can be, though, especially if you're irregular.

I once had my period for seven weeks. Do you know what it's like to bleed out of your vagina for seven weeks? I bitch if it's seven days, but I will gladly take that over seven freaking weeks. I had to go in the hospital every couple of days to get blood transufsions because I was losing so much. I met with countless specialists, and no one could explain it. I wasn't in any pain, but it just wouldn't stop because sometimes Mother Nature likes to be a real bitch and do things her own way for no convceivable explantaion. After that I started taking birth control, and it was absolute magic. Every 28 days like clockwork between 10 and 11 am, I would get my period. It was incredible. Not to mention the added perk of not having to worry about getting pregnant. But then I had to go on medication for some other stuff and I couldn't take birth control anymore so I was back to my old ways. How did I cope with it? Well, I took some advice from Donna Meagle:

I give myself a free pass for those 5-7 days that my uterus is crying the tears of the unborn. Chocolate. Ice cream. Clothes. Shoes. Massages. Hair treatments. Mani/pedis. I turn into a total brat and validate my misery with material things. And you know what? It feels damn good. I swear half my paycheck goes out the window in that time frame but it is so worth it. The problem is that I look like a homeless person half the time, but hey, if celebs can rock the lazy/hungover look in front of the paps all the time, so can I, sister.

My current predicament is quite frustrating. I had to take steriods for my vocal chords a while back, and my cycle is all sorts of messed up right now. I was three weeks late and then I had it for like twelve days. So now that I've made you all privy to my vagina's habits, I'll get to the point. The endocrine and reproductive systems are fickle little motherfuckers. Our bodies are constantly changing and reacting to what we expose them to, so just because we want or expect things to work a certain day, Mother Nature will, more often than not, have other plans for us. That being said, I would still rather deal with a shedding uterus than surprise erections-- no shade on my men, you know I love you.

xx,

Gemma