Thursday, April 4, 2013

Sunday Bloody Sunday



This is what happened on Easter. It is full of things that will make you say "TMI," probably out loud. If frank discussions of lady plumbing mishaps annoy or disgust you, go live your important life and leave me be. We both know however, that your important life probably involves "Scrubs" reruns.

1. I'm taking a fertility drug called Clomid. It has many side effects. Some of them, like babies, are good. Others are not so good. So far the not-so-good ones are the ones I have.

2. Clomid makes me feel emotions. Emotions that only women know about, and usually during the pre-menstrual times. Emotions like "red-hot pissed," "enraged for no reason," "really sad for no reason," and "suddenly weeping."

3. I only have to take Clomid five days a month. And, ladies and gentlemen, five days a month is enough.

4. I take Clomid the week of and just after my period. So now here's how my month breaks down. Days 1-4: On my period. (Sucks.) Days 5-7: On Clomid and on my period. (SUCKS.) Days 8-9: On Clomid. (Sucks.) Days 10-20: The "fertile period," where I have sex a lot, worry if I'm ovulating or not, go to the doctor to have my progesterone checked, and begin to wonder if I'm knocked up. (Mostly sucks.). Days 21-28: Wonder if I'm knocked up. Take pregnancy tests. Dread my period. Also PMS. (SUCKS.) Repeat!

5. Easter was my third day of Clomid. I got up and I was so tired. But I put on something cute and we went to Mass and I saw Brett Favre.

6. I was kneeling. I had just taken Communion. I was praying and looking at the stained glass. I started looking at people. I saw this tall guy with broad shoulders in a light blue polo and I thought, "Damn, that's a big dude. He looks like a football player." Then I saw his face. It looked vaguely familiar.

7. Brett Favre looked at me. He was probably thinking, "You rude bitch. I'm trying to worship the Lord and you're staring." But I was just mildly smiling at him, and thinking, "He looks kind of familiar." His hair was very gray and his face was not shaved. Then just as he passed out of my field of vision, I said to myself, "That's Brett Fav-ruh." I watched him head for the side exit, dip his fingers in the holy water font, and disappear into the narthex. (Yes, he left before "the Mass is ended.")

8. I'm not what you'd call terribly knowledgeable about the sporting games, so I wouldn't have known who Brett Favre was at all if it weren't for There's Something About Mary.

9. It's sacrilege to say this around these parts, but I wouldn't know Drew Brees if he sat on my face.

10. Anyway after Mass my husband had this great idea: Cracker Barrel.

11. On the way in, I had a sudden panicky feeling and made my husband walk behind me and look at my buttal area to make sure there was no blood. There wasn't.

12. So I enjoyed my coffee and salad. (I know salad isn't breakfast. But I wanted a salad.) And then when we had eaten and were leaving, I told my husband to wait for me in ye olde country shoppe while I went to the bathroom.

13. In the bathroom, my crotch was full of blood. And there were four giant dark spots on the buttal area of my light brown skirt.

14. I texted my husband: "Abort mission. Meet me outside. Bled on m'self."

15. He met me outside. I got in the truck and cried. Because I thought this was over. I thought the ovarian drilling was gonna make everything cool. And now I am bleeding on myself in a Cracker Barrel.

16. I asked my husband if he tipped the waitress well and he said yes. Which is good because she probably had to clean up my vaginal blood.

17. We went home and I laid down and experienced lots of the Clomid emotions all at once: "enraged for no reason," "really sad for no reason," and "suddenly weeping," to name a few. My poor husband was mystified.

18. Then I had to (a) find something cute to wear since my cute Easter outfit was in the wash, and (b) make my famous loaded mashed potatoes and get re-dressed all in about 45 minutes, which caused me to experience another Clomid emotion (Clomotion?): "red-hot pissed."

19. I fought with my husband. I got red-hot pissed about iced tea. It was really dumb. That poor man. Then we went to Easter at his folks'. And it was good. There was ham. And the crazy bloodiness tapered off. And the next two days of Clomid were not that bad.

20. This pill better work. It makes me suddenly have cramps so violent I have to grip the kitchen counter. It makes me want to do nothing but sleep. Except at night, when I can't sleep because I'm nervous and have a headache. It makes me bleed. It makes me cry. It better for the love of God make me ovulate.

21. When I get pregnant, I'm going to punch in the face anyone who dares lecture me about the nobility of suffering. You can take your drug-free home birth and put it in your butt super hard. By the time I am knocked up I will have suffered for that baby. I have bled on myself inside the Capitol of the Hearty Country Breakfast after looking at Brett Favre. Sleepless nights, tears, pain, pills, doctor visits, ultrasounds, blood draws. About 200 hours spent online looking for tricks and explanations. Herbs and teas and OTC "miracles." Holes drilled in my ovaries.

22. I got nothin' else to prove.

23. There is no moral to this story. I had my period like a hoss on Easter Sunday while taking fertility drugs that make me crazy. That's it.

24. There is a happy ending: I had a nice Easter. I missed my family a lot. I wasn't able to go see them. But I spent the day with some of my new family, and ate some delicious food, including my loaded mashed potatoes, which fucking rule.

25. I also saw a beautiful baby get baptized. That was lovely. Hopefully by next Easter I'll be the one up there hoping my baby doesn't puke on the priest or hose down his christening gown.

3 comments:

  1. Hello Kristen, One I wanted to say, this was awesome! I can identify in an opposite way. I was on birth control (never again) that made me have all the same issues, and I have bleed on myself in public more than once. A few times while in High School, and others noticed before I did. Two, hang in there, my sister had issues and she finally did get pregnant and her next kids were all conceived without treatment, because her first pregnancy balanced her out. So your first might be hard, but God willing it will be a breeze after that. And the epidural is the way to go! You will suffer in all sorts of ways, take is easy where you can you will have earned it.

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  2. You are hilarious! Hang in there, once you have one, another will come again right away. I had my kids at 32, 33, 34 and 35. Now, I'm so afraid that I will get pregnant, that my husband is not allowed to look at me.

    PS- Can you tell us how to make the potatoes?

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  3. You are downright hilarious, Kristen! So raw, real, and refreshing! I love how you subsume Catholic and crazy, not letting the ruse of piety hold you back from being genuinely yourself. Very true saying you don't want anyone to lecture you on the "nobility of suffering," which is so something I could see happening from some well-intentioned yet utterly clueless peeps.You remind me a lot of my sister Celeste, who's an absolute clown and is my maid-of-honor in my wedding! Keep 'em comin'. And here's to hoping you get preggers soon and can lay off the emo-inducing Clomid!:)

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