One day my ovaries (well, technically only one of them) decided to revolt against my aging, prove it wrong, defy it with all its mighty might. At first, it wasn't even funny how mighty it proved to be. That tiny shrinking hormonal gland was going through its own mood swings, sending me to the bathroom more often than my small bladder. I'd wake up several times a night to check for any leakage.
For 2 bloody (and I mean it literally) years I had to forgo wearing white, had gone to Costco and invested serious cash into feminine disposables.
Then it stopped - the shrinkage became irreversible and I was considering to set the fire on all of my remaining 'Mommy diapers' and my tampons... I imagined a fun fire in the garden, a glass of wine and warm memories of PMS and cramps and bloating and breast tenderness, as I'd pour the tampons out of their box and say my final goodbyes. I'd even shed a tear...
Well, what do you know, three months into it and the ovary woke up. Off I go to the drug store to replenish my supply. As I prepare for the usual and so very familiar routine, it stops. It comes back in a week for a day. Then 4 months later for 5 days.
I've realized that my ovary isn't playing the die hard/hide-and-seek with nature. It's playing evil mind games with me. It comes unexpectedly: when I am out running very far from home, or when I am in the middle of an important conversation. It hits you with the ever diminishing might (finally!) leaving you somewhere between a pad and a pantyliner. FOR DAYS! Try exercising with this! Tampons won't do anymore, due to the Symptom #7 - Vaginal Dryness.
As always, I find a silver lining in this situation as well - this is the only time when I am hot-flash free! But more often than not, when I wake up in the middle of the night chafing, I reeeeally long for that bonfire...
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