I am a woman. Period.

I told this story to some friends today, and they thought it would be good for my blog. Warning. I am going to be talking about menstruation.. That is such an ugly word. Menstruation. I remember the maturation program I attended in 5th grade. All the girls and their mothers were invited. I was so excited. Anything having to do with puberty intrigued me. After that program, I became increasingly interested in the changes that were supposed to be happening to my body. I checked my armpits each morning to see if there was a hair. I looked through my friend's mom's bathroom garbage can to see evidence of feminine products. (This was my friend's idea - I didn't think of scourging through her mom's garbage can on my own.) I wanted to use phrases like "on the rag" and "I have cramps". Starting in the 6th grade, every so often I would steal one of my sister's maxi pads and wear it to school - just in case. I would wake up with "a feeling" that today would be the day. So I'd stick a pad to my underwear and run to the bathroom every chance I got to see if my gut feeling was correct. It never was. By eighth grade I was getting a little bored of it all. I had no armpit hair, only a scarce amount of pubic hair, and no period. Of course, I had plenty of pubescent acne - but none of the good stuff. None of the stuff that I was convinced would make me a true, mature woman. One night, about the second week of eighth grade, I decided to take the matter to a higher power. I prayed that night that I would start my period. I begged. I told God that I was "ready to be a woman". I pleaded with him to entrust me with the responsibilities of a woman. The next day was a rough one. I felt sick all day long. After lunch, while sitting in computer class, my stomach started to turn. I ran out the door and to the nurse's office. I got there just in time to throw up all over my shoes, and then I promptly passed out. I woke up in my mom's minivan. I had no idea what was going on. My mom told me that I had gotten sick and passed out. She also told me, that I was probably going to start my period. (How did she know that?) I was so excited - and so sick. I hoped my mom was right, and that this was finally happening to me. I got home and ran to the bathroom to check my underwear. I was a woman! Thank you God! I spent the next 24 hours, and 24 hours every 28 days for the next 10 years of my life throwing up and passing out. Now, at 32, I chose my birth control specifically for period management. I'm sick of shaving my armpits. My pubic hair has lost its appeal, and I seriously consider letting some stranger rip it out by the root with hot wax. Looking back, I'm thinking maybe I should have prayed for something else that night.