Like a Red Sea.

Men folk, just skip this one. I love you dearly but I don’t think you want to know. Some of you ladies might want to run too.


I tried to warn you. TMI:

Look, it always the same.

When was the last time you had your period?

A year (two) (three) ago.

What day exactly?

I don’t know, that was a long while ago.

Well we need to know because…

My uterus shriveled up and died. It has a vancancy sign. It’s hoarding it’s eggs, it’s anti sperm, it doesn’t remember how to ovulate. I do not have a period. I do not take birth control. I am not pregnant. It is medically impossible. TRUST ME.

Ma’am I need you to pee in this cup. We’re going to do a pregnancy test. (I know they test other things in urine)

*sigh*

I’ve spent thousands of dollars on specialists, drugs, MRIs, and little men with cold scauplas to decide what’s wrong with me. 

The last period I had was April 2014. I know this because my hormones were still high enough from childbirth for one to occur normally. (The stars aligned, etc for me to even have a child. The odds against me were overruled by divine intervention. I think God just enjoys hearing Doctors say, “You can’t.” So he can say, “Bah! Watch this!”)

Prior to that, it had been 5 years since Aunt Flo visited. Before that I menstruated a measly 7 years. Compared to the rest of the world, I’m still a teenager.

I do not ovulate. I have enough eggs stored up to make thousands of people parents. (Seriously) It is not natural.  But it is what it is.

I admit, not buying pads, not having mood swings, not searching the land for rare steaks to injest, was extremely appealing. I mean no one wants to do this for 7 to 12 days. 

So truly, when I say being visited by the red tide, for the first time in 3 years, wasn’t exactly a welcome, expected event.

First, I had zits. 

Deep facial zits. I couldn’t make them stop.

Then I lost my appetite. I just couldn’t eat. Didn’t want to. My stomach hurt and I felt lazy as heck.

And then, much to my bemusement, I had a sign. I laughed and thought, “Yeah right, maybe I should visit my doctor in June though.”

And it came.

 Can I tell you I didn’t miss cramps? Bloating? The want to not move from under my blanket fort that I erected on my bed? (I am FREEZING. )I want to eat all the cows. 

And there is so.much.blood.

I know it’s stupid but I forgot. 

I told my husband:


He didn’t really appreciate the jest. But I mean seriously, going to the emergency room or urgent care because I’ve gotten my red wings this month? It’s seems so ridiculous!

However, this is distinctly odd. I will have to see if it returns next month… like normal people’s do. Will shark week be every month or a once every three years when a planet is retrospective and such?

Until then, I ride the crimson wave and remember the joys of womanhood.

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