Blogging my period: Day 8

CONTENT WARNING: PERIODS. Obv. There Will Be Blood. And possibly other things that you might not particularly want to read about. In which case, my advice is: don't read it. And if you do read it, and come across something you don't like, don't come crying to me about how you read something you didn't want to read even though I very clearly warned you you would read about if you continued reading.

Oh yes, blog. Almost forgot. I've been doing actual work for the first time in two months today, so it kind of slipped my mind. Also, my period is boring today. I'm pretty sure that there are plenty of people who think it's boring every day, but today it is especially dull. I am bleeding a bit. It is neither especially heavy nor especially light. Although, now I come to think of it, it is very dark, and I'm not entirely sure it's always this dark. Hmm. Weird. Probably just another episode in the never-ending saga of Thou Shalt Not Get To Know Thine Own Periods Ha Ha Ha.

I have spent too long at this computer today and it appears to have sent me a little bit mad. Sorry, I'll do better tomorrow. Probably.

Blogging my period: Day 7

CONTENT WARNING: PERIODS. Obv. There Will Be Blood. And possibly other things that you might not particularly want to read about. In which case, my advice is: don't read it. And if you do read it, and come across something you don't like, don't come crying to me about how you read something you didn't want to read even though I very clearly warned you you would read about if you continued reading.

Day 3 of my period is here. This used to be a source of woe, but for reasons unknown, it's no longer a horrible heavy day. So just a relatively normal day, except I have to change my Mooncup every now and then.

I love my Mooncup. I first heard about them during my addicted-to-Babycentre days. You can discuss anything and everything on a parenting forum and nobody bats an eyelid, including your method for collecting your menses, should you wish. And they wished. Freed from the shackles of normal conversational propriety, people sang the praises of the Mooncup until I was more than a little intrigued. I was already involved in a hate-hate affair with tampons, due to the fact that I needed three different types to get through the week, and even then they weren't really up to the job on some days. I was also getting queasy about the amount of stuff I was sending to landfill, given that I had two children in disposable nappies, in addition to the tampon-mountain I was getting through each month. Plus, I'm a cheapskate and someone told me it would save me money.

So, I bought one, trying not to feel irrationally insulted about the fact that, as someone who has both over thirty and had given birth vaginally (twice), I in no way qualified for the smaller size. And I was instantly (or almost instantly, once I'd cut the stupid stalk off and got used to the weird suction sound) a convert. Yes, it's a bit of a faff sometimes, especially if you need to empty it and you're not in easy reach of a toilet with a sink next to it (you can take a bottle of water into the toilet with you, but to be honest I find it easier to just go and find somewhere that has a sink). Yes, it gets messy if you're bleeding quite heavily. Yes, sometimes it won't open up properly and you end up taking it out and putting it back in about twenty times while wanting to cry. And yes, it's annoying and awkward when your children burst in on you when you're trying to change it and cry "MAMMY! What are you doing to your BUM!?!". But despite all of that, I would still never go back. Mooncups don't smell as awful as tampons and towels can. They don't feel as awful as tampons and towels can when they're totally full. You don't have to try and shoehorn them into a bin that's so full that the little flap thing doesn't work anymore. You don't have to worry about all that crap sitting in a pile somewhere until the end of time. It's brilliant at the end of your period, when you're hardly bleeding at all, but don't want to wear a towel or pantyliner, or a tampon that will be an absolute bitch when it comes out because it's too dry. And if you're weird like me, it's actually kind of interesting seeing the exact volume of blood you're losing. They even have little markers on to tell you (which is how I definitely knew that my periods were officially heavier than normal, rather than thinking they were but also worrying that perhaps I was just overreacting).

So, if you've been thinking about trying a Mooncup, but feeling unsure, DO IT! They're ace, and then you can feel all smug about you're saving the planet and your pennies. And here's a tip - Zizzi's have toilets with sinks. And really good calamari :)

Blogging my period: Day 6

CONTENT WARNING: PERIODS. Obv. There Will Be Blood. And possibly other things that you might not particularly want to read about. In which case, my advice is: don't read it. And if you do read it, and come across something you don't like, don't come crying to me about how you read something you didn't want to read even though I very clearly warned you you would read about if you continued reading.

Ah, Day 2. The day I look forward to all month.

EXTRA CONTENT WARNING: If you're already feeling a little bit iffy about this blog, and have already had a few 'Ooh, TMI' moments, then I strongly suggest you stop reading right now.

When my periods came back after having Child No. 2, they were HEAVY. Before the eight-years of chemically controlled ones, and the brief spells just before and after Child No. 1, they were fairly heavy at times, but nothing like as bad as this. On the second and third days of my periods, I would bleed A LOT. Seriously. Super tampons were done after about two hours. Eventually I switched to a Mooncup. That was no match for it either, but at least a leaking Mooncup doesn't feel quite as disgusting as a leaking tampon (does anything feel as disgusting as a leaking tampon?). If ever I saw an advert for sanitary protection featuring women in white trousers leaping about, I felt a very strong urge to hurl something at it; I was worried about walking too fast, never mind rollerskating in cycling shorts. At night, I'd wear my Mooncup, plus a sanitary towel, plus an extra pair of pants to hold it all in place, then my thickest pyjama bottoms, and even then I couldn't be sure I wouldn't wake up to stained sheets (you all think I'm really weird now, don't you?). It was, in short, minging, and I was, in short, fucking miserable.

I knew I could solve this by going back on the Pill, but after too long on Microgynon, which made all my feelings die, and a brief spell on the mini-pill, which made me bleed for a month, I was absolutely convinced that I didn't want to mess with my hormones anymore. In desperation, I asked for advice on a Facebook group I belonged to, and was told to get myself along to the doctors because there were things I could take.

And oh, hallelujah and hurrah, there was. The lovely doctor prescribed me tranexamic acid, which, according to Wikipedia, is "a synthetic analog of the amino acid lysine. It serves as an antifibrinolytic by reversibly binding four to five lysine receptor sites on plasminogen or plasmin". Well, I will have to take their word for it on that, but whatever the hell it is, it works. These wonderful, magical tablets have turned my miserable, horrible, depressing, messy-as-fuck periods into hardly-at-all miserable, not-really-that horrible, only-a-bit messy ones. And while that might not seem like it's much of an improvement, to me it is EVERYTHING. My flow is still very heavy on Day 2 (it was on day 3 until fairly recently actually, I don't know why that's changed but I'm not about to question it), but as long as I take the maximum dose I'm allowed, it's manageable now. I don't have to plan my whole day around toilets (well, other than the normal kind of planning that has to happen when you have two children and a tiny bladder). I don't have to be scared of making sudden movements, or sitting in one place too long, or any of the other things that might not be entirely rational worries, but would always get into my brain anyway.  Day 2 is never going to be a day I greet with anything other than 'ugh'. I'm never going to want to go swimming that day, and I doubt I'll ever wear anything other than black on my bottom half. I still can't quite get rid of all my ridiculous night-precautions, despite the fact I that I know they're not really necessary. But I no longer spend two days of every month feeling like the most disgusting creature to have ever walked the face of the earth. Last year, I even went on a hen weekend on one of my heavy days, where I shared a bathroom with ten other women and went to Go Ape, which I never could have done a couple of years ago.

So my advice to anyone who is having problems with their periods is go and seek help, and don't give up until you get some. I was lucky that my doctor just believed me and prescribed something, but I know not everyone is that fortunate. But definitely don't suffer in silence. I never would have found a solution to my problem if I hadn't talked about it. Oh, and if anyone knows of a way to make tranexamic acid at home, in a coffee mug or something, please do let me know, so that next time there's a national shortage and I haven't ordered my prescription in time I don't have to burst into tears in the middle of a crowded pharmacy. Thanks.

Blogging my period: Day 5

CONTENT WARNING: PERIODS. Obv. There Will Be Blood. And possibly other things that you might not particularly want to read about. In which case, my advice is: don't read it. And if you do read it, and come across something you don't like, don't come crying to me about how you read something you didn't want to read even though I very clearly warned you you would read about if you continued reading.

Well, the wait is over. It has graced me with its presence. On Day 5 of my period blog, I actually now have a period to blog about. Hurrah.

I woke up this morning with a banging headache and a dull ache across my abdomen (I like the word abdomen. Life does not afford me with enough occasions to use it). Thankfully my husband was around to get the kids up, dressed and out to school, so I got to lie in bed while my head kept hurting, and the dull ache turned into a plain old ache, which turned into pain, which turned into ow pain ow pain ow pain ow. It felt, as it always does, like someone had smashed their fist through my belly button, grabbed hold of whatever they could find in there, and then twisted. Hard. After a couple of hours of this, two ibuprofen and an episode of Gossip Girl, both the pain in my head and the one in my uterus subsided, and I was able to get on with my day. I cleaned my house. It was epic.

Bit anti-climactic, innit? It doesn't really support the case I wanted to make, which is that period pain can be an absolute bitch. So, to demonstrate that more effectively, here is the charming tale of My Worst Period Pain Ever.

I was 17 years old, and at sixth form college. I'd just had lunch, and I was cramping like hell. I was meant to be going to a lesson, but decided I really couldn't take it any longer and I needed to go home. I headed towards the bus stop. Halfway across the car park, the pain intensified even further, I started feeling dizzy, my vision started to swim, and before I could do anything about it, I vomited on the ground. All I wanted to do was to crumple up into a heap on the floor, but then I looked at the gravel, the broken glass, and the regurgitated chips and thought better of it. Somehow I staggered back into college and into the toilets. I sat on the floor, shaking, crying and wondering what the hell I was going to do now (I didn't have a mobile phone then. No-one did, apart from about three people in our college who worked loads of hours in McDonald's and so could afford those little Nokias that everyone seemed to start off with. Actual aerials on them and everything, remember those days?). And then, in one of those sweet, sweet coincidences that only ever seem to happen in films, my next-door neighbour walked in, and I begged her to drive me home. She'd only popped in to go to the loo before her next lesson, which she really should have been at, but at the time I couldn't care about anything other than how much pain I was in. She took me home like the angel she is, where I spent the next few hours sitting on my own bathroom floor (I find bathroom floors incredibly comforting places to be when I'm ill for some reason, and at least the one at home was warmer and cleaner than the one at college), wrapped in towels to keep warm, and curling my knees up to my chest, hoping that that would make it stop.

I'm lucky. It had never been that bad before that day, and it's never been that bad again since (touches ALL the wood). Mostly my pains are like the ones today - yeah, I'm intensely uncomfortable for a couple of hours, but with some 39p painkillers and a bit of time, that's it. Some people - some of you lot reading this, in fact - deal or have dealt with pain like this for multiple days, every month, for years and years. All I can say is that you women are fucking NAILS. It's been 17 years since that day, and I still remember it vividly, it still ranks up there as one of the most painful and horrible physical experiences I've ever had (and I have given birth twice and epilate my underarms, so I'm no stranger to pain). Apparently period pain can be as bad as a heart attack, and yet it's still not taken seriously by much of the medical profession. I doubt me wittering on on my little blog can do anything to change that, but maybe by sharing our stories, we can remind each other that there are people out there willing to listen, sympathise and care.

Blogging my period: Day 4

WHERE ARE YOU, YOU BASTARD??????????

Blogging my period: Day 3

CONTENT WARNING: PERIODS. Obv. There Will Be Blood. And possibly other things that you might not particularly want to read about. In which case, my advice is: don't read it. And if you do read it, and come across something you don't like, don't come crying to me about how you read something you didn't want to read even though I very clearly warned you you would read about if you continued reading.

Still on Period Watch. I actually thought it might be coming last night, not long after I wrote yesterday's post, as I had a bit more of a show, but then there's been nothing since then. I also thought I was starting to get some pain, which is usually a sure sign that's it's properly on its way, but I think it was just because I ate a brioche just before I went to bed. It's pretty annoying, this waiting phase. I wish there was some regularity about it too - sometimes it's half a day, sometimes it's days and days. I'm pretty sure this didn't used to happen. Before I had children, I was on the pill for years, so my periods were very regular, but even before that, and after I had my children and refused to go on hormonal contraceptives ever again because they made me crazy (a story for another day), I don't remember my periods starting like this. It was just like one minute I wasn't bleeding, and the next minute I was. Clear-cut and simple, albeit really massively inconvenient if you weren't expecting it and were somewhere like the queue for a ride at Alton Towers at the time, and you ended up clenching and hoping until you could find a loo and some change for the tampon machine. I think this whole few days of something-and-nothingness has actually only started in the last couple of years, which just goes to show that even after two decades of menstruating, you're still not allowed to relax and know completely what's going on. Bah.

Still, I don't want to cry, kill anyone, or sleep for a million years today, so on balance I think I'm winning.

Blogging my period: Day 2

CONTENT WARNING: PERIODS. Obv. There Will Be Blood. And possibly other things that you might not particularly want to read about. In which case, my advice is: don't read it. And if you do read it, and come across something you don't like, don't come crying to me about how you read something you didn't want to read even though I very clearly warned you you would read about if you continued reading.

Me right now.

This has literally just started in the last five minutes. I opened Blogger ready to write about how I'd stopped wanting to set the world on fire for being so infuriating, and then my mind drifted to a couple of things that have happened today that have been a bit disheartening, then my shoulders started feeling really heavy and my eyes started feeling tired and now I want to go and make a pile out of every duvet in the house and crawl into it. Except I can't, because my children are inconveniently asleep under theirs. So I'll sit here and tell you lot all about it instead.

I woke up this morning with a headache. When I finally dragged my arse out of bed, I felt a bit creaky and achy, which is always fun. At least I know what it is this month though. I normally I mope around the house going "My head hurts! And I'm so tired! Why am I so tired? I have no idea why I'm tired and my head hurts!", until my husband asks "Really? You really don't know?" and waits for the penny to drop. Good job one of us is keeping track of these things.

Today I also had the tiniest smear of the tiniest speck of the tiniest hint of blood. I'm not sure it's even worthy of the name though, it's just kind of... pink. Ish. A smear of pink-ish. This means my actual period will arrive any time in the next 1 - 5 days. While I suppose it is great to have some kind of early-warning system in place, this is actually pretty freaking annoying, because now I'm properly on High-Alert Menstruation Watch until whenever it decides to grace me with its presence. Which is really distracting because I'll be trying to concentrate on something and losing my train of thought every two minutes wondering if I've come on. And then there is the sanitary protection dilemma - waste pantyliners when I know there could be absolutely nothing for days? Start using my mooncup now just in case, and then get paranoid about Toxic Shock Syndrome, which I don't even know if you can get from mooncups but I'll worry about anyway? Or just live dangerously and use nothing and hope I don't get caught out somewhere outrageously inconvenient, like up a mountain (not that I ever go up mountains) or in a traffic jam? As my plans for the next two days involve not leaving the house (at my kids' request, this is not a period-related thing!), it's not much of a worry this month though. Phew.

By the way, it was quite weird writing this post, and I'm still feeling a little bit uncomfortable about posting it, just because of that tiny mention of that tiny bit of barely-even-blood. Even though this was entirely my idea, and I'm not particularly shy or squeamish about this kind of thing, and the whole point of this is to be more open about our periods, it still feels like a pretty big step to be actually doing it. I'd better get over myself, it's going to get a lot worse than this.....

Blogging my period: Day 1

Inspired by this post on The Pool about how we don't talk enough about periods (and I assume by 'we' the author means 'society', because personally I bang on about mine a fair bit), I have decided to blog my period this month. And, as an extra added bonus treat (playing fast and loose with the definition of 'treat' there), my PMT too, because I'm having it right now and it's/I'm a bitch. You will get a post each day about how my period is going and how I feel about that. Feel free to start a discussion in the comments, either here or on facebook.

CONTENT WARNING: PERIODS. Obv. There Will Be Blood. And possibly other things that you might not particularly want to read about. In which case, my advice is: don't read it. And if you do read it, and come across something you don't like, don't come crying to me about how you read something you didn't want to read even though I very clearly warned you you would read about if you continued reading.

OK, if you're still with me, welcome to Day 1. It's not actually Day 1 of my cycle, just day 1 of me blogging about it. This is actually Day... I dunno. 26? 27? Something like that. I never have any idea what day I'm due on. I never take a note of the day my period starts, at least not a physical one that I might keep somewhere handy and be able to refer back to 3 weeks later, when I'm wondering when the next one is due and resorting to trying to remember the last time I found myself in a situation that was less than ideal for changing a Mooncup and if I can figure out what the date was.

Anyway, I am due on sometime soon, possibly at the weekend, and everything is annoying. My husband is annoying. I mean, he's always annoying, but for most of the month it's just part of his charm. Most of the time, I accept his inability to answer a question with the actual answer instead of some kind of joke, and his apparent blindness when it comes to bits of food in the sink plug as just part of the trade-off for being married to a good, kind man who makes spectacular cups of tea. But today I want to kill him and feed his body to seagulls (he really hates seagulls. One of them mugged him once, and he's never got over it).

My kids are annoying. They are 4 and 6, so of course they're annoying. But today they're really bloody annoying and I'm wondering if you can divorce your children on the grounds that they won't stop arguing with each other or asking you what your favourite part of Hotel Transylvania 2 was (and your favourite part of that part. And your favourite part of your favourite part of your favourite part. Seriously, child. Shut it.).

My house is annoying. It's too small, and there's too much stuff in it, and nothing matches, and my bloody annoying kids and my bloody annoying husband and my bloody annoying self keep leaving crap all over it and why can't I have a house like those people in the magazines, with re-purposed vintage lightbulbs and shit like that?

The headache I had this morning was annoying. I don't know if it was hormone-related or cheap Chardonnay-related, but it was annoying, and made my drive down the A19, where I got stuck behind a wide load all the way from Sunderland to Billingham even more annoying than it needed to be. The sun was also annoying, being all in my eyes and stuff.

There are probably more things that are annoying, but if I write any more I'll get annoyed with myself for doing too much ranting. Also my husband is due home in approximately 7 minutes, and is apparently bearing chocolate, so I'm just going to go and sit on the doormat like a pining spaniel and wait until it he gets here.