¡Ombligo!

Tuesday, June 07, 2005

 

Feeling like I want to cry.

uterus n' ovaries pouch $18


Lately I haven't been feeling like myself and all day today I've been feeling like I want to cry. I almost never cry, I actually laugh when I cry because I feel like an ass crying so I laugh. For the past couple of days I've been in stage one of my cheering up phase and I'm headed toward stage two already.

I'm up on my Synthroid, when I was diagnosed with Graves Disease they told me that if I started to feel depressed, the most likely cause was because of my thyroid so I knew that couldn't be the cause.

And then it hit me, I'm having a bad case of PMS!!!

I've never been the type of woman to celebrate my Menarche, I actually don't know anyone who is but I've heard organizations that do so. I'm quite the opposite as I'm incredibly hemophobic, that's right I'm a big baby when it comes to blood!

My introduction to menstruation was "the talk" my Mom had with me when I was eight. I walked away thinking that menstrual fluid came of of a woman's breasts and that was the reason that women wore bras. I also came to believe that this occurred every day for the rest of a woman's life. My Mom was/is lousy at explaining things!

It wasn't until the next year that I realized it was a monthly thing and that breasts only played a minor part in the entire cycle, by being incredibly swollen and sore.

When my period arrived, my Mom made it a point to tell everyone and I was even sent a red rose by my Aunt that said "Welcome to Womanhood."

I hate receiving red roses, I hate that Aunt and I hate having my period!

The uterus n'ovaries is $18 from Stitch Pixie.

Comments:
What is up with Asian mothers and their inability to communicate regarding menstruation? I had a bloody nose in the bathroom one night, and a few days later my mother gave me a grocery bag full of maxi pads. The "talk" went like this:

Mom: Here. Take these.
Me: Why?
Mom: I saw something. In the bathroom.
Me: Oh, I had a bloody nose!
Mom: Don't lie to me.
Me: Uh, okay. [takes bag]
Mom: Do you know what this means?
Me: That you think I got my period?
Mom: Pay attention! This means, that if a boy tries anything with you, SAY NO! Okay? Okay? SAY OKAY!
Me: Uh, okay.
[end of mother-daughter bonding]
 
Aw Sand, it will be ok.

Seriously, I get PMS so bad that I have to take drugs. I can relate. If you're entering the suicidal zone in PMS time, its a good idea to get some medical intervention! The important thing is to be really conscious of it and be proactive and accountable in all that you say and do. And take care of your eating/sleeping/exercising needs. This is critical.
It will often worsen as you get closer to perimenopause or after having babies. Just be on top of it.

You're not alone in this.
love and hugs,
Laura
 
oh my, did you check out the pixie's 'vulva pouch'?

Geez, I think I need a new pencil case :-)
 
Here's what I went through at my Japanese home. There's an archaic tradition that when a daughter's menstruation begins, the mother cooks a red beans and rice dish. I didn't know this, so when my period came and she cooked this for dinner, I thought she was just making a favorite dish. Dad came home and we had dinner and all the while he was embarassed to sit there. I asked why and that's when I was told the truth. Let's just say I haven't had the same apetite for that dish since.

Her words of wisdom to me were "now don't have sex".

((((Hugs)))) to Sand...I hope you feel better.
 
I should probably clarify that the rice and beans dish is called osekihan and it's a celebratory dish that's served on other occasions which is why I'd had it before. Now I hope the story makes better sense.
 
Sand, I must agree with Keeter-bee's observation that Asian mothers don't know how to talk to their daughters about becoming a woman other than the "don't have sex" warning.

My parents were already divorced by the time I got my period, so I just called my mom when I found out about it, and she came over after work with a giant grocery bag full of pads. Happy Happy Joy Joy!
 
Oh dear. My mom was out of town when I first got my period, so I had to talk to my dad and my grandma. Dad was feeling out of his league but surprisngly cool about it. Grandma... ugh. She had some deep shame about anything of that sort. I didn't get a rose from her. I got pads that were bigger and thicker than the pillow on my bed.

So sorry about the PMS: I hate it when it strikes. Super dark chocolate is my cure. The darker and more bitter, the better. Bonus if there's crunchy espresso beans in the chocolate.
 
That vulva pouch is something else! I love hearing everyone's version of "The Talk!"
 
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