Shark Week

Disclaimer: If you don't like hearing about women's health issues, then please stop reading right now.  I mention words like vagina and bleeding in the same sentence below so if you're in any way squeamish, kindly piss off.

Last week I had to visit my GP because I had not had my period for two months.

Yes my friends, two months.

That is some scary ass shit.

I'm currently not on any form of contraception.  The mini pill makes me crazy, (I'm not joking, I literally turn into an even crazier, angrier, obnoxious arsehole and I cannot do that to myself or my family), and I'm still tossing up the mirena.  The last six months have not been fun for me and my poor broken body, so the thought of fooling around more just gives me the heebies.  I just wanted my body to have a break for a bit.  Obviously it didn't get the memo because I hadn't menstruated since the end of August.

Since late September I have done six pregnancy tests.  SIX.

When I had to take a day off work last Monday because I had the beginnings of a hormonal migraine and was so bloated and cramped and couldn't get out of bed properly, I thought finally it was on it's way, but alas, still no period by Tuesday morning. I decided it was time to face the music and made a Doctor's appointment.

After doing yet another pregnancy test at the surgery, my GP referred me for a blood test, just to be absolutely sure that I was not pregnant and in the event that my period had still not arrived, a pelvic ultrasound.  Remember this post here, where I waxed lyrical on my love of pelvic ultrasounds... needless to say, I was fucking thrilled.

At this stage I start freaking out that I am actually pregnant.  That seven pregnancy tests are all wrong and somehow, by some of cosmic joke, I've become pregnant and my life is literally over.  Of course I love my kids, but fuck me, I am so done.  Two is my absolute limit.  I have no room left in my heart, or my car, for more children.  And as I'm such a great birther (sarcasm) I'm not sure my body can handle any more drama in that department.

It's the longest 24 hours of my life.

When the GP finally calls to confirm that I am indeed, not pregnant, I almost weep for joy. She says she's never talked to someone who's so happy to NOT be pregnant and she laughs.  I cackle like the crazy person that I am and she tells me to make the ultrasound appointment.

The next day I get a call as they've had an appointment come up that day at 11. I head out, on a work day, to my appointment assuming I will be an hour tops.

Fun fact, your organs are mobile.  They do not just sit still inside your body.  Your uterus for example, moves around in your body.  Yes.  I know.  My mind was also blown.  It did help being told this whilst I had been laying on an uncomfortable trolley with no pants on whilst a woman has a probe in my vagina.  Yes, I have to have the transvaginal ultrasound because my uterus is being uncooperative and they can't get a clear picture of my endometrium.

Yes. You read that correctly, I had a woman, probe my vagina, for almost 30 minutes and Medicare covered it.  There is not enough wine in the world.

I am yet to hear the results of my ultrasound as my follow up GP appointment is tomorrow.

In true Jessica fashion however, my period arrived with a vengeance yesterday morning and I feel thoroughly disgusting.  My back is aching, I have a headache, and it's like a murder scene every time I go to the toilet.

This morning after changing my tampon every hour I gave up and went back to pads.

I know.  It's fucking gross.

And I'm not saying that periods are gross and being a woman is gross, it just feels messy and unpleasant and I haven't had my period for two whole months so it literally IS like a great white has attacked my nether regions and I feel nasty AF.  Why hasn't the human body evolved so women do not have to suffer through having blood come out of their vagina every month for 35+ years?  Like childbirth, it seems archaic and unnecessary!

Hopefully my visit goes well tomorrow... I will keep you posted!

Fake it till you make it!

Truth

People keep asking me how I'm doing.  I lie to them.  I tell them I'm doing just fine.  I feel heaps better.  I am resting lots.

The truth is that for the last two weeks I've been crippled by anxiety attacks which can last for hours and I feel like the world's worst mother and partner.

I'm not sleeping well.  I wake up several times a night in a ball of sweat and nerves.  My legs feel like lead.

I don't know what bought this on. It has come out of nowhere, it didn't start when I left the hospital, it didn't start when my Mum left, it didn't start when Justin started back at work... I have no idea what is going on and to make matters worse, there doesn't appear to be a particular trigger.

I will be ok, watching TV, reading a story to the kids, prepping dinner, reading a book and all of a sudden I'm overcome with a violent urge to vomit.  I get lightheaded, my legs start aching, heat rushes to my face, heart goes like the clackers and I just want to lay on the ground.

Most times I do just that.

Lay on the ground.

I then obsess about how fat I've become, how I don't look after my kids properly, how my house is a mess, how my partner isn't getting enough attention, how I should be back at work already, how I miss having my family close by, how little money we have in the bank, how we'll never own a home, will we ever get married, why don't I talk to my friends anymore, why am I not doing anything with myself except falling apart on the unmopped floor...

I couldn't do my laying down thing as I walking the Strand this morning with my family so I tried to focus on the water and the sky and all the naturey things.  I did my deep breathing and kept putting one foot in front of the other. I have literally felt on edge all day.

I've been in a few social situations since this started and not had it happen either. So it's not the social/people thing.

When I told my GP he recommended that I speak to someone, which obviously I will do, but also reminded me that I've had a tough time with this operation and it's okay to feel overwhelmed.

Overwhelmed is one thing, crippling anxiety is another.

He gave me a script for some valium.

Which I've found not helpful.

So here I am.  Tomorrow I make an appointment to see a psych and hopefully the beginning of really feeling better.

I could go on about a lot of things here but I won't because I don't want to feel judged or have people worrying about me.  I'm actually ok and working on a plan.  I just needed to get it down and out because that's what I do.

Sharing a Room

Just yesterday, the Mushroom announced that he'd like to sleep in the same room as his sister Molly so they both won't get scared.

He's currently going through some stuff.  Spiders, mice, darkness... you name it, he's scared of it.  He has a night light, mouse spray, spider spray, constant reassurance from us that there is no need to be scared of anything that is one hundredth of his size... (don't make me do Math, my head hurts) but you know what the rationale of a 4 year old is like...

Now I can count on one hand, how many nights Molly has woken up in the last month at night and I can count on one finger how many nights that Mushroom has slept in his own bed in the last 8 months.

WTF

I am opposed.  Vehemently.

Juffin thinks it's a good idea so we can turn one room into a play room and we can get all the f-ing toys out of the lounge room.

Between you and I, we know that the statement above will never happen.

So let's go through my reasons for not wanting to do this:

Mushroom has a night light
Molly is still in a cot
Mushroom still needs someone to sit with him when he goes to bed (Yes.  It's fucking ridicuolous.  Don't even get me started!)
Molly is a light sleeper
Mushroom is a nutcase and wakes multiple times at night and creeps into our bed, if we take him back he becomes hysterical and WILL wake another child who would be SOUNDLY SLEEPING in the same room
Molly is a fantastic sleeper and I literally cannot cope with one child in my bed let alone two.  I'm too fat.

Now I don't care that they're opposite sex, they're kids.  I think it's sweet that he wants to share a room with her.  I just don't think that my girl will enjoy having a room-mate.  She's a very independent little thing and I think she likes her own space. She is still breastfed before bed and literally says, nigh night Mummy when we put her down and she rolls over and goes to sleep.

Oh if the first born would do that!  We'd be in HEAVEN!

I guess we could trial it and if it's shit, go back, but will that stuff the good sleeper up forever?  I like my three hours of unbroken sleep!  I need it!!

What's your advice fellow parents?  What would you do?

Their hair is almost exactly the same colour!