Do you remember the first girl in your circle to get her period? I certainly do. Ms. M.S. was never the most charming kid, but once she got her period she lorded it over all of us. She was perpetually feeling "too PMS-y" or "just a little tired" or "so emotional."
Then there was my friend whose mother made a big deal of the event. Fancy breakfast, new clothes to celebrate "growing up," mother-daughter trip to the drug store.
And then there was me. By far the bustiest girl around (I was larger than the ever-popular Pamel.a Anderson even at 95 lbs). Attracting non-stop attention from seniors and construction workers alike and ... nada. Well, I mean there was my first super-traumatic period. During a sleepover with a friend, of course, when I was 11. And it lasted for weeks and weeks and weeks. And instead of a mother-daughter talk and a little zippered bag in my backpack, I got a trip to a world famous RE (thanks to my sister's diagnosis and subsequent surgeries starting when she was 14, so the very year I got my period) who diagnosed me with severe PCOs and anemia and had a "little chat" about why I shouldn't really plan on having a family when I grew up. I was 11.
Needless to say I wasn't super excited for my period to come back. And it didn't. From age 11 to 29 I would not have a single uninduced bleeding episode. I was that girl. The one who never carried any supplies. The one who would just "skip" her withdrawal bleeding while working at a 2 month summer camp. No inconvenienced beach trips, no embarrassing accidents. 18 years.
Then we did fertility treatments and had the fusspot. And when she was about 18 months old I got natural period #2, and with speedy dash through our local fertility clinic for some drugs, we landed up with ... the dumpling. Not until after I'd bleed through a white skirt on a 4 hour Amtrak trip to my little sister's college graduation, gracefully patched things together with one of the fusspot's diapers, and exited the train with a sweatshirt wrapped around my waist and a desperate plea to my mother that we need to get to a drug store now.
The dumpling turned 16 months old this week. And I got my period today. I always expected that this would be a most joyous surprise should it happen. Should I be one of those lucky few whose infertility is dramatically improved by carrying a baby to term (and also possibly nursing. I have a second diagnosis in addition to PCOs, and it's quite possible that nursing helps. I am for the record still pumping at 16 months and nursing on demand with a co-sleeping baby), everything would be easier. Yes, we still used a fertility clinic for the dumpling but things are radically different when you wander in with a cycle, as opposed to when you wander in and note full and absolute amenorrhoea for over a decade (as with the fusspot).
I am relieved, thankful, excited. Also more than a bit nervous to even mention it to my darling husband (who is still at work as the clock approaches 1 am and has a 7 am train in the morning, so I think the conversation will be deferred a bit). As always, I am emotionally ready to try this whole roller coaster again. As always, it would be an absolutely terrible time career-wise, extraordinarily stressful on our relationship, and I would hardly categorize myself as physically ready (i.e. still anemic, still rocking the is-she-or-isn't-she-belly look). So I guess the joy is a bit tempered, but by gosh, sometimes it's nice to just feel normal. Tomorrow I'll pack pads into the diaper bag, and guys, I've never had a chance to do that before.
Then there was my friend whose mother made a big deal of the event. Fancy breakfast, new clothes to celebrate "growing up," mother-daughter trip to the drug store.
And then there was me. By far the bustiest girl around (I was larger than the ever-popular Pamel.a Anderson even at 95 lbs). Attracting non-stop attention from seniors and construction workers alike and ... nada. Well, I mean there was my first super-traumatic period. During a sleepover with a friend, of course, when I was 11. And it lasted for weeks and weeks and weeks. And instead of a mother-daughter talk and a little zippered bag in my backpack, I got a trip to a world famous RE (thanks to my sister's diagnosis and subsequent surgeries starting when she was 14, so the very year I got my period) who diagnosed me with severe PCOs and anemia and had a "little chat" about why I shouldn't really plan on having a family when I grew up. I was 11.
Needless to say I wasn't super excited for my period to come back. And it didn't. From age 11 to 29 I would not have a single uninduced bleeding episode. I was that girl. The one who never carried any supplies. The one who would just "skip" her withdrawal bleeding while working at a 2 month summer camp. No inconvenienced beach trips, no embarrassing accidents. 18 years.
Then we did fertility treatments and had the fusspot. And when she was about 18 months old I got natural period #2, and with speedy dash through our local fertility clinic for some drugs, we landed up with ... the dumpling. Not until after I'd bleed through a white skirt on a 4 hour Amtrak trip to my little sister's college graduation, gracefully patched things together with one of the fusspot's diapers, and exited the train with a sweatshirt wrapped around my waist and a desperate plea to my mother that we need to get to a drug store now.
The dumpling turned 16 months old this week. And I got my period today. I always expected that this would be a most joyous surprise should it happen. Should I be one of those lucky few whose infertility is dramatically improved by carrying a baby to term (and also possibly nursing. I have a second diagnosis in addition to PCOs, and it's quite possible that nursing helps. I am for the record still pumping at 16 months and nursing on demand with a co-sleeping baby), everything would be easier. Yes, we still used a fertility clinic for the dumpling but things are radically different when you wander in with a cycle, as opposed to when you wander in and note full and absolute amenorrhoea for over a decade (as with the fusspot).
I am relieved, thankful, excited. Also more than a bit nervous to even mention it to my darling husband (who is still at work as the clock approaches 1 am and has a 7 am train in the morning, so I think the conversation will be deferred a bit). As always, I am emotionally ready to try this whole roller coaster again. As always, it would be an absolutely terrible time career-wise, extraordinarily stressful on our relationship, and I would hardly categorize myself as physically ready (i.e. still anemic, still rocking the is-she-or-isn't-she-belly look). So I guess the joy is a bit tempered, but by gosh, sometimes it's nice to just feel normal. Tomorrow I'll pack pads into the diaper bag, and guys, I've never had a chance to do that before.
2 comments:
Although I never had periods, I was always worried it would show up completely unexpectedly... so I wore liners and carried pads and tampons. Preparing each day for the possibility of a period that would never come.
I feel so very lucky because my period came back when Michael was a year old and has been going, regularly, ever since (and I'm still nursing Michael... but I'm also on metformin). DH and I have had a lot of conversations about #2 and treatments. It does make a huge difference when you have a cycle, as opposed to none. I have A LOT of optimism that we will be able to conceive without help next time, and if we aren't able to, I think I'll be really crushed if I have to go back to the RE.
Only you and your husband know if it's the right time to add on to the family. It's a big deal and I hope you find yourselves on the same page about it.
Welcome back to the period club :) timing could always be worse, right?
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