Crimson Tide

Ever feel like ripping your ovaries out? Well I have.

Ok, to be honest that isn't a fair thing to say since many women have had their female parts removed and would give anything to have them back. And although I'm not volunteering mine, it'd be nice if having them weren't such a pain in the -- ok just a pain period. (get it, period.)

I've been thinking a lot about PMS and that time of the month (partly thanks to Adela's blog.) It seems that just about every female I know is going through some phase of her "Monthlies" right now. Kinda like when you and your roommates's hormones mess with each other and by the end of the year you're on the same schedule (suddenly not taking out the trash becomes a WW3 conflict.)

As much as I despise when men assume I'm being a bitch or unreasonable simply because it's "that time," there really is some validity to that statement. I don't always notice my personality switching because of hormones, but this month it's been painfully obvious.

My dad told me awhile ago what song he wants to dance to during our father/daughter wedding dance. It's a good choice but I hadn't heard it since he mentioned it. Then Friday I got in the car to go to work, guess what was playing? It's a miracle I didn't run over any small children during my bawling. But I thought "what a sweet song, of course I'll tear up once in awhile." During lunch that day I had an errand to run so I got back in my car and what do you think was playing on the radio? Yup, you got it.

But it doesn't end there. Twice more on Friday I heard that song, and I cried the same amount EVERY freaking time. So not typical behavior for me. By the third time I heard the song my first thought was, "what are the odds that this song just happens to come on every time I get in my car." and my second thought, as I wiped my eyes on my sleeve, was, "I am so PMSing."
The other sure sign that I was PMSing came during grocery shopping. I've always been taught not to shop for food when I'm hungry, well the same should apply to women who are about to "start." Walking by the Halloween candy aisle was pure torture. But I passed it by, only stopping to pick up a York pattie in the shape of a bat.

And the final sign, the "girls." I have no idea why this happens during PMS, but my breasts become painfully sensitive. Taking off my bra is always dicey during this time. A sudden move, or tangled strap can bring me to tears. And if I successfully free myself, I still have to bite my tongue against a gasp of pain when they first support their own weight. They throb in misery if JR even glances at them. Even the slightest touch during this time could bring me to my knees.

Dealing with unruly emotions and uncontrollable cravings during PMS must be a small sample of what being Pregnant is like. In fact one could view the entire menstrual cycle as a mini-pregnancy. Ovulation creates a high sex drive which is followed by weight gain(thank you water retention,) mood swings, sore boobs, food cravings, aches in strange places, and eventually contractions to rid the body of a mass of cells. Because really that's what cramps are, small contractions.

I never used to take pain medication during my crampy days because I felt I should toughen myself up and prepare for labor. Almost the same view I had at the dentist. I once let my dentist drill and fill a cavity without telling him that the Novocaine wasn't working, at all. Let me tell you, that was the worst hour of my life, I can't even describe the pain. But my adolescent reasoning was that it was my fault I had the cavity, so any pain I went through was deserved. Of course now I know that my dental hygiene is just fine and it's really my genetics to blame. So goodbye brave front, hello chemical oblivion.

Some women, and a lot of men, claim that period cramps don't exist. Those women who've never experience the white hot pain of cramps truly think the rest of us are making it up (Sis.) But as I got older they only got worse, and just wishing them away or trying to be bigger then them, doesn't work. I would often become physically ill, cry, and basically writhe around in misery unable to even sleep.

I now always have Midol on hand. And when the joyous day someday arrives and I'm delivering my first baby; I will haul my fat sweaty bloated body out of bed, hunt down, and kill the doctor unless he agrees to inject drugs into my spine. Because if what I feel for two days a month is only a small percentage of the pain I'll feel during labor, it's little wonder married men say they rarely get laid.