Did you know that, through the divine powers that be, breastfeeding can sometimes cause your period to stop? Like, for realsky. Just stop. Take a big pause. Cut you some slack. It’s sort of awesome.
You can do anything when you’re not on your period!
You can literally wear white jeans any day of the week.
Sex any time. You know, if your kids ever leave you alone long enough to do it.
You can slap on a G-String if you so desire (though I, and my butt, never desire).
Swimming whenever the mood takes you! Without fear of leakage!
No cramps, guys. NO CRAMPS.
You can hold your crazy bitch hormones in check and not spew evil fire out of your mouth every time you open it.
You know, all good stuff.
The sad part of this is, of course, that it does come back…eventually.
Eight months after having my littlest bird, Aunt Flow has sadly returned. And she’s as big a cow as ever. Maybe worse.
It’s safe to say that, though she has been a faithful companion of mine for many a year now, come rain or shine, I have not missed her in the slightest. In fact, when she came back, I got mad at her. I mean, sure, it’s nice to know I’m not pregnant, but really…
So here I thought I would name all the WORST things about the Red She Devil (AKA your period (you got that right?) coming into town:
- Pad wedgies. Or as I like to call them, Pedgies.
- Constant, gnawing, I WILL KILL YOU IN YOUR SLEEP IF YOU DON’T BRING ME A COOKIE RIGHT NOW hunger.
- Hormonal acne. It simultaneously make us look like we have an incurable skin disease & adds a mountain range-like texture to our faces – win-win.
- Sneezes require Pelvic Floor strengthening exercises.
- Your handbag is a Mary Poppinsesque extravaganza of emergency “I just exploded everywhere” supplies (you know, extra pants, pads, chocolate, cone of shame).
- The pain. The God-awful pain.
- Bridget Jones Period pants.
- Changing your sanitary towel in a public bathroom & the noise the wrapper makes, basically signalling to everyone in there that you’ve got company that month. & those gross pad bins.
- Bloating so you look 6 months pregnant and everyone asking how long you’ve got left to go. “About another half a pack of Always pads, thanks Jane – and you?”
- Waking and looking at the bed sheets with dread in the morning.
- Going number 2. I mean, just… sobs
- The crying. So many emotions. So little time.
I’m off to eat my body weight in Lindor.
Let me know if you think of anymore in the comments!
If you enjoyed this and you’re a breastfeeding mama (or have been in the past!) why not send in a “brelfie” (or a breastfeeding selfie to you normal folk out there!) to bob on my breastfeeding picture wall?