Warning: If you think discussions on menstruation is disgusting, then this is not the blog post for you!
I vaguely remember my mother making menstruation out to be a good thing, but I distinctly remember angrily yelling at her “I GOT THAT THING YOU WANTED ME TO GET!” when I got it. Of course I was upset: I had gotten my first period at ten years old during school when I had the only male homeroom teacher in the building. The fourth grade already sucked with me being made fun of by most of the class for liking Hanson and now I had my period. Praise the mighty sun god Ra that I didn’t wear white pants that day. I ended up being one of two girls that I knew of who had gotten their period a year before we were taught about puberty in class.
Twenty three years later, like most women, I don’t look forward to my period, but it’s the most effective way in informing me that I went another month without getting pregnant. There’s a weird moment of relief when I see my bloody uterine lining has ruined or further stained another pair of underwear before I feel the painful sensation like I’m being stabbed in the ovaries with a pick ax.
Being a woman with anxiety issues and a menstrual cycle regulated with hormonal birth control who doesn’t want children ever, a missed period is fucking terrifying. As a missed period doesn’t always equal pregnancy, it leaves my anxiety infected brain to overthink the reasons as to why my period is late. “Well, fuck if I know!” my brain will think. The further I go past the date I was supposed to start my period the more likely I am to buy pregnancy tests to be reassured with a single red line that I’m not pregnant. There’s likely a correlation between my increased anxiety during a pregnancy scare and the rising prices in stock for companies that make pregnancy tests. During my last big pregnancy scare in 2016, I panic bought and used three or four pregnancy tests and went to my women’s clinic for the RN’s expertise on why I was having no period or positive test results.
It shouldn’t have been surprising that I was late this month considering all the stress I’ve been having due to the situation with Covid-19, but the panic still set in. After a week, I broke out and pissed on the pregnancy test I have in the bathroom cabinet for such situations. Negative. By the laws of nature, a negative pregnancy test means I’m almost guaranteed to trigger my period by the end of the day. Sure enough, my period started within the last couple hours of my work shift.
But yay! I’m not pregnant!