The Hormone Strikes Back
Not long ago, my partner and I were discussing what to make for dinner. I suggested Spaghetti, no he didn’t feel like that. To which I replied “well if your not happy, make your own then”. Rather dramatic and so out of line. Did I mention I just stopped taking the pill after 16 years? Although you still get a little P.M.T. on the pill, I forgot about all the lovely monthly symptoms we (I mean myself AND my partner) have to deal with.
There are good and bad times when coming off the pill. The good is feeling like you’re getting your body back, almost cleansing it. And if you’re like me, and preparing it for something life changing and exciting, a baby, you tell yourself it will be worth it in the end. The bad, I think giving up that hormone controlling friend has unleashed a wild rabid beast. My moods change dramatically, and I find myself getting cranky and snapping at the smallest thing (like anything my b/f does). I work with children and after a raving 5 minute lecture on who knows what, I had the 4 year old telling me, “it’s not that bad, you just need to be more calm.” Well if a 4 year old is telling me to calm down it must be bad.
Some of the up sides include the return of your libido. I think I remember having that. If I knew stopping the pill would turn me into a sex crazed nympho (maybe not quite but definitely an improvement) then I would have gone off it sooner. Of course there is the down side of having to use condoms if you don’t want to hear the pitter patter of little feet just yet. I forgot how annoying and rubbery theses things are, but at least you can make the man in charge of buying them, after all its their turn after all the years of paying for and taking a pill everyday. You can of course try the withdrawal method. It does take precision timing and co ordination and as I was once told, a man always dribbles before he shoots. Enough said.
Another down side was waking up one day to look in the mirror and notice a pimple the size of Mount Everest on my chin. I rarely get pimples and haven’t seen one that big since I was a hormonal fuelled 16 year old. One good thing, my b/f said it made me look younger (that was the right thing to say). Again the always complimentary 4 year old told me I had a “big sore on my face”. The cravings for anything sugary doesn’t help this either. I found myself scoffing marshmallows by the dozen (and this was just a sneaky peak before dessert) and blaming it on my b/f, gee they do get the raw end of the deal don’t they? Although one thing he is enjoying is my ever swelling breasts. Come ovulation time and my nipples look like a flying saucer has landed on them, well they certainly feel that big. The problem is he can look but not touch. Any attempt to touch is met with a ferocious response. They do get so sore, even looking at them hurts. Maybe around that time I should hang a Do Not Disturb sign around my neck.
Ok, so far there seems to be a lot of negative sides to claiming my body back. But in the end it has to be better for my health, maybe not my sanity (or my boyfriend’s). Once the hormone shift has settled I may feel human again. I know I’m complaining already and I just went off the pill, wait till you’re pregnant I hear you all say. Well, you will all definitely be hearing about that journey when it happens!
Coming up next article, “Preparing for Pregnancy”. Now that should be interesting.
Posted in Life, Women's Issues on August 8th, 2010 by Blog Admin | | 1 Comments
Mum’s The Word
Motherhood has always been a great desire of mine. I can’t remember a time I didn’t want to have children. I grew up surrounding myself with children, I chose a career in childcare, and my life wouldn’t be fulfilled if I didn’t have any of my own. I haven’t had any as of yet, mainly due to circumstances within my life. But now that I am in a serious relationship it is something my partner and I have talked about and are hoping to do in the near future. Actually saying it out loud, even putting it to paper suddenly makes it real and scary.
I’ve been in childcare for around 18 years, the last 10 spent nannying for various families. This doesn’t make me an expert on children, but I’d like to think it gives me a head start. After all I have had my current charge since he was born 2 years ago, so he feels like mine only I get to go home at night. I still get to experience the ups and downs of raising children. The erratic sleeping patterns, the sometimes stressful times when the child is ill (I got used to being frequently covered in vomit or poo), tantrums, and the times they make you feel overwhelmed with happiness. Future motherhood has got me asking myself, will I be a good mother? Do I have what it takes to raise a child in today’s world? It made me think about my own values, morals and how I’d like to bring up a child. Of course I realized so much of this I learnt from my own parents, and my upbringing.
One thing I realised is I want to be around to see my children grow up. Whilst we were growing up and still in school I always remember my Mum being home. When I got home from school she was always there and if she worked it was at night and my Dad stayed home. I saw so many of my friends whose mums worked full time and hardly got to spend quality time with them. Looking back now I appreciate it, we may have had to do without the latest gadgets, toys and clothes because we were on a budget, but we always had our Mum. Although I know it’s hard these days to afford a parent to stay home, I hope to spend as much time as possible with my children. If it means missing out on extravagances I don’t care, it’s far more important to see your child grow up than take an overseas trip. I know my parents missed out on a lot of things but they are doing it all now we are grown up.
My mum grew up in a strict household, her father having been a WW2 veteran was a very hard man. Although sometimes she was tough on us I now appreciate it, having grown up a very responsible adult (well most of the time). At work I can see my mum in the way I discipline the children. I am very big on manners, we were always taught to speak when spoken to, even just to say hello. Say please and thank you, little things I know, but people notice a well mannered child. I even make the 2 year old sit at the table whilst his sister is finishing her dinner. We ate as a family every night and you didn’t leave the table till you were all finished. This is time to sit and talk about your day, have a laugh and chill for 15 minutes!
My mum was pregnant and married at 18. Gee I didn’t even have sex till I was 19, so I obviously learnt from her mistakes (ok, I love my brother but he was unexpected)! I think that’s why she was strict, I had curfews, wasn’t always allowed to go to party’s underage etc. But once I turned 18 I had my freedom to do as I pleased. Still I told mum what I was doing, my siblings say I was the golden child, but really I just showed mum the respect she deserved. I wanted to finish school, study and have a good career. Marriage and motherhood were definitely on my agenda for later in life. I hope I can instill some of these values in my children. I want them to feel like they can talk to me, be honest and hopefully I will set a good example for them.
Your relationship with your mum changes over time. I feel like she is my friend as well as my mum. I’m sure when you have children it changes again. I see the love and devotion she gives to her grandchildren and can’t wait to share that with my own. The most important thing my mum taught me is love and support. I went through the trauma of suddenly losing my husband 8 years ago. The first thing I did was go home to where it was familiar, comfortable and secure. My parents supported me financially by giving me a home till I got sorted. But mostly emotionally, they also lost a son in law but never wavered in their love and support for me. I remember waking from a bad dream one night and hopping in bed with mum like when I was little. I just needed the closeness and comfort. How easy that is to give. I think that experience taught me what is important in life and why your relationship with your mum is so important and shapes the person you will end up being.
I could go on and on and on. I hope you are all lucky enough to have a mum like mine. I truly hope I will be a good mother; I have no doubt if I use what I learnt, I will do just fine.
Happy Mothers Day
Posted in Family and Relationships, Women's Issues on May 9th, 2010 by Blog Admin | | 0 Comments
A Tale about Bart
Firstly before you start reading this post please read the following disclaimer: this post contains frequent use of the word vagina, and many other terms for this particular area such as vajayjay, vulva and any other V words I can think of. So if the thought of this makes you squeamish or offended, then DO NOT read this blog!
Let you tell me my story. Part 1, The Diagnosis.
To cut the details short, I got a cyst in the vajayjay area, to be specific a Bartholin Cyst (lets call it Bart) which developed when the Bartholin Gland (yes ladies we have two of those), got blocked and I ended up with a infected lump the size of a golf ball in my vulva area (got to love that word, sounds so pornographic). Try explaining this tastefully to people, especially my new boyfriend and his family whom I was on a weekend away with when this occurred. Lucky for me we were in Wine Country so I spent most of the weekend half tanked trying to block out the pain. It also meant everyone thought I was walking funny because I was drunk, not because I had what felt like a bowling ball between my legs. Ok slight exaggeration for those of you who have given birth and actually experienced this, but it hurt.
Now on to Part 2, The Hospital Visit.
I turn up to the emergency ward early in the morning after 3 days of pain, when they ask me what the problem was, I told then I felt like I was about to give birth to a giant cyst and needed it removed NOW. Of course they told me to take a seat and wait, but it wouldn’t be long. Take a seat, what the hell do they mean take a seat, I had a growth in my vagina and I could NOT SIT ( there is a lot of capital use, this is when I was yelling). About an hour later I got called in, my patient boyfriend remains in the waiting area with all the sick and injured, I decided to spare him with what was to come. A lovely nurse gets me to sit in a room when of course, in walks a young very good looking English Doctor. NO why me, why couldn’t it be someone like Quincy MD or an old kind looking female doctor. After I got over my initial panic I told him the problem and off he goes to get the nurse and a few instruments, this concerns me but I wait patiently, by this stage in agony. He arrives back with a pretty young nurse (of course) and a dolphin torch. What the! I know they are waterproof and can float but I really didn’t see the need for one at this time. They must have noticed the look of horror on my face and explained it was because the lamp was broken. Phew. Now as they start prodding around (I’m trying not to yell out by this point), they start to flirt. Yes that’s right, flirt. Batting eyelashes, giggles and British Doc discussing how in Oz we have lots of big things, such as the Big Banana, the Big Prawn. Yes this is over my vagina, I did help out and volunteer that we do indeed have a Big Pineapple, after a bit of debate, and yes you can get Pineapple on a stick but if they didn’t hurry up that stick would be appearing in a very different place. All this after it took the nurse 3 attempt’s to get the needle in to take blood.
By now I just wanted drugs, anything to numb my mind and the pain. After waiting what seemed like hours they then informed me, yes I did need an operation to have Bart drained, but no they couldn’t do it there as they didn’t have an ob-gyn (that’s obstetrics, gynecology for those who like me were clueless) area. Too bad if you need to have a baby at that hospital. A little bit more waiting for paper work, I then had to break it to my boyfriend after 4 hours of waiting, that we had to go to another hospital 50 minutes away. Like a trooper he didn’t complain, and off we went, him driving, as by this stage I was a little relaxed on pain killers and thinking about Pineapple on a stick. Thankfully they were expecting me at the next hospital so I only had to wait a little while, maybe Id be out of here soon. My hope faded when I saw the Doctors who told I did indeed need an operation but I would have to come back in the morning as it was too late now. Lucky for them I was a bit doped up otherwise I think I would have screamed blue murder. To make matters worse I had to fast that night and I hadn’t eaten all day, this day couldn’t get any worse.
Part Three, Hospital Number 2, The Op.
I arrive very early and ready to be knocked out as soon as possible with a general anesthetic, I don’t have to wait long, hooray I’m at the top of the list. As far as I know all goes well and I come to in the recovery room, feeling very dopey and then in enormous pain. God maybe I did give birth! Anesthetic makes me want to vomit and cry all at the same time, so when I saw my boyfriend standing there I was so relieved. Even though later when I caught a look at myself in the mirror I was horrified at how crap I looked. But of course he was smart enough to tell me I looked fine. Id had morphine, so I was feeling mighty fine, and slurred the whole way home, not really making a lot of sense. As soon as I got home I dared to have a look, the golf ball was gone and in it’s place were a few ugly stitches. We decided to look it up on the net to check out what exactly what they did down there. Not a good idea, just looking at the diagrams made me squirm and want to cross my legs. And my boyfriend was distressed to read that sex is out of the question for a least 4 weeks. Was he kidding there was nothing going anywhere near there for a very long time. At least not until I could sit down again without having to use a ring pillow. Now I just had to patiently wait for it to heal and my brain to forget the trauma Id just gone through.
I hope you enjoyed my very long story, and to all the women out there who have given birth I salute you.
Note, for very obvious reasons I have chosen not to include a visual image to head my post, thanks for your understanding.
Posted in Women's Issues on December 15th, 2009 by Blog Admin | | 1 Comments
The Things We Do for Fashion!
Picture this, at the last minute you are invited to the opening night of Mamma Mia with a red carpet, after party filled with celebrities, maybe C list celebs but still exciting. Of course the first thing to go through my mind is……what will I wear!!!! Ahhhh I have no clothes, as I search frantically through my very full wardrobe for something suitable. Looks like a trip to the shops is in order to find a dress in record time. It’s a little tight but I have a body sculpting slip I can wear to hold everything in, perfect. Looked great, it was a little uncomfortable and hard to sit down in, but after a few champagnes I didn’t really notice.
Well that’s what I thought, until I woke up the following day and found my ribs had been displaced. I felt like I had been through a boxing bout that had lasted 10 rounds and I was the loser. Of course it got me thinking about the things women endure, all for the sake of fashion. Tell me a woman who hasn’t worn a pair of shoes that are too high, a dress thats too tight or worn makeup that stays on for days and resembles spak filler. So here are the most painful and uncomfortable things I think women have to endure all in the name of fashion.
First we have the Nancy Ganz, body sculpting underwear, girdles, granny or suck in undies. What ever you would like to call them, they are basically tight undergarments that hold in all the bits we don’t want to display. Supposedly they give an invisible panty line and shape and tone our bodies. First there is the waist high underwear, which is probably the most unattractive piece of lycra I own, and definitely not something you let your man see you in. The problem with this is they are so big you can’t secretly stash them in your clutch purse before he gets a glimpse. Not that I’ve ever tried to do this. Then there is the full body slip which can be with or without straps and is what I wore under my opening night dress. Not only did it take 15 minutes to get into (and we won’t even talk about getting out of it at the end of the night after a few champers) but it was skin coloured so i basically looked like a large sausage, mmm extremely attractive. Ok it held me in, but every time I sat down it pushed everything upwards so not only did I rearrange my ribcage but pushed my boobs so high up I could barely breath, or see my feet. My girlfriend who came with me had one that just covered the bust and tummy area. Every time she sat down hers rolled up so she had what looked like a spare tyre around her hips. Of course we will wear them again after seeing a photo from that night and both deciding we definitely looked slimmer!
I’ve got one word, heels. Who invented these punishing pieces, and who told women their legs look longer and sexier in them. I realised I was getting old when I went looking for a pair of heels and was astounded at how high they all are. Seriously I have watched women shuffle along because they can barely lift their feet off the ground the heel is so big. If they are strappy, by the end of the night you usually have permanent indentations in your foot. Of course if you squeeze into a heel that doesn’t quite fit you will usually end up with blisters too. They have invented all types of heel shields, party feet gel cushions, even botox for feet to help make it easier and more tolerable to wear heels all the time. But nothing will save you from the unattractive bunions, back aches and bad posture that wearing sky high heels can produce. I think I’ll stick to my flats now.
I know that bra’s are a necessity for most women (some men look like they could use them too). Could they not have been made a little more comfortable. I don’t care what anyone says, even the most expensive bra’s can be annoying. At the end of the day when you get to remove it, you can always hear the sound of relief. What about the Uber or plunge bra as it’s known, uber because it does magic things and it looks like something from outer space. Ok, it does the trick of holding the girls in place when you wear a plunging neckline, but it is so unattractive. Again there is no letting the man see this contraption.
Gee I realise my list is quite long and I have only just started. There are a few things that deserve an honourable mention. Firstly fishnet stockings, I love it when you get home after wearing these out, only to discover the holes are much bigger then at the beginning of the night. I always seem to get a hole in the crotch area too, which does not look good. They also tend to leave netting type marks on your skin, so you look like you contacted some disease while you were out. And who could forget the old Hollywood tape, used to tape you into something you really shouldn’t be wearing if it needs taping up in the first place. But we do like to be adventurous! I remember waking up with the tape stuck to my breast (it had obviously not done its job, and moved during the night) and having to rip it off. Almost like a wax strip, and it left a sticky tape mark visible on my breast for days. Again painful and attractive.
There are plenty more to mention, like bobby pins, false eyelashes, fake nails but I might save them for another time. Girls I hope at least some of you can relate to some of my list. Although I complain, I will keep on doing the things women do, all in the name of fashion.
Posted in Women's Issues on November 11th, 2009 by Blog Admin | | 1 Comments
