When the Demon Emerges

I'm warning y'all--this post is intended for female audiences. Only brave males need to read on. As for those with prudish undertones or those who are my family members, be aware this may just qualify as TMI. And with that, my non-emo post shall begin.

Women. We all know that "time of the month" chat. How our bodies will change. What to expect. Special "tools" to get us through this treacherous week every single month. From the time we are about ten years old, we are told to fear this week, consider it war, and clear our minds of any thing we may say or do during this battle. And we buy into it, myself included. Often, we use our periods as an excuse to eat junk food or act bitchy. Frankly, I'm sort of okay with that. What I'm not okay with is the other demon lurking for women in regards to their monthly cycle.

The big ol' O. OVULATION.

Well, most of us ladies are well medicated by the age where hormones and boys are raging. Thus, we never get to really experience what our cycles are like in the real world. I know I sure didn't. I happily swallowed a tiny synthetic hormone pill daily just to make life a little bit easier. I didn't want to claw out everyone's eyes a certain week every month. I didn't need to stay in ball formation in order to avoid intense pain. I didn't cry uncontrollably for no reason. I was just a normal gal secretly winning the hormonal battle. And I was winning that battle for years until my body started another fight deciding birth control was indeed the enemy not the savior.

So I stopped taking it. Miraculously, I felt better. It seemed in line with my whole natural, holistic approach to life. I could add in the minimalism part by saying I had one less thing to spend time and money on. But then, in a surprising turn, my body turned on me again. I had never really experienced a normal menstrual cycle without the aid of drugs while being married. Oh boy, was it life changing. Literally.

In my first month sans meds, little man started gestating. How could this have happened, I pondered? We were always so careful. I never found an answer. Almost two years later and still drug-free, and woops! It happened again. This time, I wanted an answer and I wanted it NOW. Why the hell was I such a Fertile Myrtle? A lot backtracking and memory digging came into play. What could it be?

The answer, my friends, is what I like to call the ovulation demon. You see, when women ovulate naturally, their bodies go into a hormonal frenzy. It's quite animalistic. And that's apparently what I became- an animal on the quest of fulfilling my evolutionary duty. Makin' babies. The Hubs claims it was all my doing. I'm to blame. As much as I like to avoid accepting a shred of evidence, he's sorta right. Don't blame me, blame my hormones. They made me do it. If they had a gun, they would've been pointing it at my head (or rather at the nether regions). Here I sit with two kids silently sleeping and alive thanks to some terrorist lady hormones.

Terrorists, these ovulation hormones surely are. Monthly, the battle continues. They throw hormone bombs. I retaliate with cookies and Cheezits. They shoot the hormones out of a rocket launcher. I stock up on condoms at Costco. When they attack full-force with thousands of molecular men infiltrating my brain, The Hubs just so happens to pick up extra work or stay late or not feel well. To keep fighting this intrusion (since the Hormone Terrorists don't take "I'm too tired" for an answer), food of any sort is ingested at magnificent speeds and amounts. Even though we're a terror threat of orange, I have great hope that the threat will dissipate and move on.


For now, I will fight the good fight. Sex ed. classes will be cursed under my breath for the lack of real information these kids need. I'm sure girls can figure out where to stick cotton things when they start flowing like the Colorado River. Plus, if they've gotten to that time of the month, chances are great that there's no baby in the ute. Wouldn't it be better to teach our youth the warnings signs of the Hormone Terrorists of Ovulation country, so they can prepare for attack? Isn't it better to be prepared than to falsify a sense of preparation with medications and shots and devices? All I'm saying is let's not get into the whole hiding information thing. Our country is already good enough at that, so why follow in their footsteps? Use whatever guise you want, whether it's trying to avoid synthetic hormones or minimizing your budget, let's get the truth out there.

The demon is alive and well. What will you tell your daughters or nieces or granddaughters?

I think it's time to start Ovulation Awareness? Who's with me?


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