Come on my eggs are crusty, let’s get this over with!!!

Ok any of you Males reading feel free to skip this post if talk of female plumbing makes you squeamish (and if it does, a pox on you!!) – hey I’m hormonal.

Actually you can ask Tom (and even when I’m not around holding anything sharp) that I’m so not the hormonal type. My SISTER oh yeah that’s another story. She turns into psycho bitch when she’s on the rag, mind you on my worst day on the rag I’m not as bad as her normally, but I digress =oX

When I was creaking my way up to 40 I started sensing a lot of those lovely ‘changes’ I’ve heard about all those years approaching. Yanno, like how every single joint cracks or pops and the grey hairs becoming a wee bit more apparent and not just on your head either. Nice eh? Yeah you young-uns have THAT to look forward to.

Anyway, when I was approaching the big 4-0 I started to find that, as my Mom loved to call it ‘my little visitor’ wasn’t coming on schedule anymore. I mean when I was a teen I was a late bloomer, like 14 and the freakshow of my class according to all my far more mature and superior classmates and back then it was all over the map. Urgh, just had a bad ‘white jeans’ flashback there. I’m right back there again.

The first time I have to admit that I went over the month mark I thought; OH.MY.GOD did my tubes suddenly unknot? Was I going to be one of those women that have almost full grown children who suddenly end up with one of those surprise mid-life babies who’s brothers will be married with kids by the time the youngest was out of grade school? ACK! We are so not in that place. Tom and I want to enjoy the rest of our lives as a couple with OLDER kids. We want to SPEND the kids inheritance if you know what I mean.

After the initial freak out, I knew there was no way. I mean I REMEMBER what it felt like to be pregnant and I didn’t feel that way at all. I felt bloated, I felt achey, I felt.. well I felt like I needed to take a big poop, but pregnant? Nope.

When it finally showed up I did the happy dance. It was like winning some kind of award. YES!! I am menstruating!! I did it! Then the cramps hit. Oh yeah, this is like puberty all over again.

After a few months of “oh hey! here it is again two weeks later this time!” or “Wow two months and no action!” I went to see the doctor. I had visions of all kinds of dire prognosis, I had googled it which is NEVER a good idea. You get all kinds of diagnosis on the ‘net when you google things. Of course that doesn’t mean I won’t keep doing it, I’m just saying..

My doctor hit me with a surprising answer. “I believe you are pre-menopausal”. WTF? I wasn’t even 40! I mean, a lot of women don’t even have their FIRST baby at 35 these days. Wow that would be a wake up call. I always pictured women starting that WAY later in life and yanno, dried up old prunes. I’m not dried up. Not even close dammit. I mean, it wasn’t like I ENJOYED the rag, or that it made me feel young or anything but being told I was pre-menopausal was surprising to say the least.

I asked him how long this stage could last, and he casually told me ‘Oh years maybe’ YEARS?? I’m going to be going through reverse puberty for YEARS?? I didn’t sign up for that! I wanted to be like my Mother. One month she gets half a period and then next.. fffftt… nuffin. gone. Like magic.

So a year later, and here I am, same bullshit. Same celebration when the damn finally bursts. I would be more elated but I feel like my ass is going to fall out through my feet.

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