You guys, I have been avoiding talking about this. However, the angst-level with the situation has reached critical mass and I have to write about it. Mostly just to get my feelings OUT OF ME. If you don't have favorable feelings on reading about my uterus (I'm looking at you, Dad) then I suggest that you skip this post entirely.
So I've been on birth control since a young age. Mostly because I have that PMSTD? PTSD? The severe period symptoms thing. My body has become accustomed to having itself medically regulated in this way. Except for the two pregnancies interspersed there.
I have been taking oral birth control without event for a long while. (Well I did try that patch when it was all new! and wow! The results were disastrous. I should have noticed that red flag) Sometime after Little Man (perhaps earlier if I'm honest) things changed. I was having severe migraines. To the point I was worried these migraines were causing damage to my squishy think-y parts. I went through a lot of tests, and it was decided that I should up the dosage.
I put myself back onto the lower dosage. (I totally informed the doctor that there was no way in hell I was going to take the other pills- NO WAY) I could not handle the migraines hitting every other day, and the emotional rollercoaster I was being put through was quite possibly ruining my marriage. At this point I read between the lines of the situation; Me and birth control were going to have to part ways. It just wasn't working out. So plans were made. Plans were carried out. (The Husband would die if he knew I was alluding to THINGS here on this blog- so shhhh)
I weaned myself off the birth control, and held on for the ride. I should illustrate:
The Husband- "Can we change the radio station?"
Me- "No, this is my car. Deal with it."
Me "adjusting" to a different hormone level:
The Husband- "Can we change the radio station?"
Me- "I WANT A DIVORCE.... ALSO, I HATE YOU WITH A FIREY, BURNING PASSION."
Yes, it is THAT bad. Sometimes it is an out-of-body-experience.
So back to a while ago. We all braced ourselves for the inevitable hurricane of mood swings. (putting it mildly) They happened. (the car/radio scenario? Actual transcript of the conversation)
Then I started having extra long, extra heavy menstrual cycles... (icky words) that would last for weeks on end. With no relief. The red death would die down for a few days, and start back up again. I hung in there, searching for the light at the end of the tunnel. It had to be coming to an end, right? I was just ADJUSTING!
The Husband pressed me to keep track of the madness. This lead to me at the doctor's office today, a different doctor than the crazy lunatic who upped my dosage. Armed with the proof in hand: I was having a period for THREE WHOLE WEEKS, and was lucky to have one week off, followed by three more weeks of period. I explained that this pace was draining on me. (excuse the pun)
The doc looked at me skeptically and asked how long this had been going on.
Without another hesitation she broke the news that I needed to go back onto birth control. My body is completely unable to regulate itself. It is the college freshman that stays up all night and eats cold, week-old pizza in bed. (no parents! WOOOO!) My body cannot be trusted to handle these "things" on its own.
I begged the doctor to reconsider. I illustrated to her the ball of joy and sunshine I am while transitioning or messing with my delicate hormone balance, and she did not yield. She made it perfectly clear that if I kept going like this that I would end up in the hospital with an acute case of anemia.
My wonderful doctor with the terrible news handed me two months' worth of "the ring" and told me that by two months we would know if it was Chernobyl or... not. (being the eternal pessimist, I am putting my money on nuclear core reactor failure)
You guys, I am scared.
I gave The Husband the bad news, and I heard him wince. (dude never winces)
I know I am not a good mother while in this condition. I would suggest none of us are during this fragile "time of the month." To be frank, I have zero patience while on my period, so I have been yelling at the kids quite a bit more three weeks out of the month. Suddenly and miraculously, for a week my children magically become MANAGEABLE. (Hi, it's not you- it's ME)
In order to keep whatever dignity I have left, I will not even mention how many Oreo cookies and Hostess Strawberry cupcakes I have been shoveling into my mouth during the perma-period. Oh, wait... ooops. Hello, so much weight gain!
I suppose we all just have to batten down the hatches and white-knuckle it through this? Hope the clouds (and the rubble we will be left in) clear... soon-ish?
Please pray for us. That this Nuva Ring is not going to spur on the Mayan Apocalypse?