Sometimes it’s Hard to be a Woman

Spoiler Alert: The following post is about my ladybusiness* and might have mention of my ladyparts. If you don’t want to get to know me that well, I understand. No offense taken.

I almost didn’t want to write this post, but two things made me change my mind. 1) The knowledge of how very few opportunities I might have to use the words ladybusiness and ladyparts. 2) My understanding of just how exemplary my inability to properly do my ladybusiness is of my klutziness.

I have another medical disorder some of you may not know about. It is PCOS (Poly Cystic Ovarian Syndrome). It is basically a hormonal imbalance and has many various presentations. In me, how it presents is I am hirsute (which means I am hairy) and I have amenorrhea (which is not the religious version of a venereal disease). I am so hairy that I have to pluck my “stray eyebrows,” which some might call a goatee, regularly (it’s quite embarrassing**).

Amenorrhea means I don’t get my monthly ladybusiness. In fact, my ladybusiness, is more like a lazy entrepreneur. It runs like crazy once or twice a year on its own schedule (and makes no money).

Recently I read The Red Tent (buy it, read it, know it). It made me want to be more regular and to cycle with the moon – ah, romance.***

I did some research (by which I mean Googled “How do I force my period naturally” – yes I recognize the irony of that search) and read several articles about herbs and roots and etc. that are purported to create blood flow. They are called emmenagogues – which sounds like where Webster goes to pray.

One emmenagogue is asafetida. We had some in the cupboard (because it is also used for seasoning Indian food. Parsley is also an emmenagogue, this makes me a little skeptical about emmenagogues becuase and if they really work wouldn’t pregnant ladies be told not to eat parsley, or Indian foods?), so I finished it. Then I went online and ordered some more: for values of “some more” that equal enough to last me through menopause (if I don’t meno can I pause?) and have enough left over to probably start Andrew on a cycle or two.

A few days later my nipples started getting sore.**** I was kind of excited. Hey! This stuff works.

A week later my nipples still hurt. A lot. All the time. One of my friends gave me a hug and I felt like my breasts exploded.

A week later I was over the idea of wanting my ladybusiness because my body’s version of it was “Your nipples are going to hurt for a month. There will be no actual ladybusiness – just hurty nipples.”

A week later my nipples hurt. Also my breasts started to grow. I must admit, I kind of liked the breast enhancement. Andrew would have liked it also had my nipples not hurt so much that the closest he was allowed was admiring me spilling out of my too-small bras.

Andrew left for his trip. My nipples hurt. I could hardly sleep because I am not comfortable sleeping on my back and rolling over was not an option.

I woke up Thursday morning and realized that overnight I had gained 20 pounds and none of my pants fit. WTF! My nipples hurt and my beautiful huge breasts had now started to get kind of hard. I went to work – though I had to fill my gas tank 7 times on the way, for the extra weight my bike was carrying. Walking from the parking garage to the building I work in I kept looking over my shoulder to see if someone was following me only to learn each time that it was just my huge butt.

I felt disgusting. Around noon, I received an email from Macy’s asking if I would like to replace the Underdog balloon in this year’s Thanksgiving Day Parade.

By the end of the work day I was despondent. And exhausted. And huge. I went to my Crossfit trainer and took a rain check on our training session. I went to an improv class. Then I went home and cried. At this point all I could do was commend every woman who goes through this every month. If I had to do this every month I would be a F&ing B too.

That night my ladybusiness started. I was so happy. The next morning most of the 20 pounds I had gained were gone and my breasts were less hard and less painful. Then, all I had to deal with were cramps. Those aren’t so bad for me. A little ibuprofen goes a long way.

PCOS is pretty horrible on many levels. My sisters both have it too and have some really horrible issues with it. It is often treated with diabetes medicine and thought to be a marker for disposition to diabetes. For me, I am used to a lot of the issues with it – but sometimes I feel a little less ladylike or womanly because of it.

Unfortunately, my breasts are now back down to their original perfect size instead of their secondary perfect size.

I think I am going to try this again. I hope it was the asafetida that helped me get going. I think if I have my ladybusiness regularly it will be less complicated – and maybe could get off ladyunemployment.

*Apparently ladybusiness is not recognized by Microsoft Word –  or my body.

**Way deep down inside (and at every level) I am hoping I will not actually publish this blog.

*** Yes, I realize that every year I stay in the Portland area I become more woo-woo.

**** I warned you there would be ladybusiness and ladyparts involved here.

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