The Meaning of Life

My name is Kanani and I have been bleeding for almost six weeks straight. Yes, you read that right. No need to adjust your screen, do not touch that dial. First, I am really talking about menstrual bleeding as a topic of a blog. Second, it is true: I have actually been bleeding for a month and a half. Please do not be overly concerned-- menstruation is a natural, normal thing that no one need be ashamed of so I can write about it and you can read about it no matter your gender, and yes, I've already been to the doctor (two, actually).

The constant and relentless bleeding isn't the only coal in the Christmas stocking here. It isn't the only factor, the only constant erosion of what I might consider my normal life. It's also the heaviness of flow. Having an abnormally heavy menstrual flow has been par for the course for most of my post-pubescent life, but this new upgrade is a bug that needs fixing, post haste.

My body has been about the business of creating life for a long time. I've even had two kids. Guess how many times I've publicly written about this. Go on, I'll wait. Yeah, zero times. But here are some things that weigh heavy on my mind lately: the availability of pads and tampons here in the Occident, in the United States, the land of Wal Marts, Targets, 7-elevens, and neighborhood drugstores; the silence and shame surrounding menstruation; the potential self-imposed isolation.

As it turns out, there are more women like me than I realized. I don't know if it's because I never asked or if people were too shame to be honest, but I actually know a lot of women who have heavy periods. It's so comforting to talk to other women who have the same horror stories as me, who have the same complaints and concerns as me, who share a vocabulary that isn't just denotative, but rich with personal connotations as well. These relationships are what's saved me. They're my support group whether we talk or not because I know that I'm not the only one. I'm not the only one who might be ashamed of the number of times I've gone to the bathroom in an hour or the only one constantly checking for leaks or carrying around a million tampons and pads. I'm not the only one carrying around a set of extra clothes or avoiding wearing light-colored bottoms.

If it wasn't for a network of these women, I might not have heard about the new(ish) ultra absorbency tampons because whenever I go out to look for them, they're very rarely on the store shelves. I have never seen a print or television ad, I have never heard of them on the radio. I haven't even heard a single woman on tv or on the internet mention them. How did I find out? Word of mouth from my sister. What would have happened if not for my sister? That it always sells out should be a message to retailers, shouldn't it? Buy more. Doesn't it suggest that I am not alone, that so many women suffer from heavy periods that the ultra absorbency tampon is a coveted, sell-out treasure? I had to order from Amazon after checking out multiple Target, Walmart, Longs, Times, and Foodland locations several times over several weeks. To be clear, what I'm saying is that over the last couple of months, I've looked at different Walmart stores at different times and come away empty-handed. And this isn't even speaking about the extra long, overnight pads. Good luck with those, friends.

And I think this speaks to a few different factors. First, menstruation is a woman thing. Guys don't have it so they don't care. I'm speaking in a very general sense, so settle down, I know many of you men are concerned, supportive, and unashamed to buy tampons and pads at any store, let alone your girl's stained underwear (because, c'mon, don't we all have our period panties?). Anyway, yeah, girl problem = men don't care. Not only do they not care, menstruation is treated as a dirty and gross thing that we can't talk about. Men can spread their legs on public transportation, say, because they need the crotch space, and they can shift whenever it suits them because they need the alteration, and this has been generally considered (until recently) to be normal. I haven't seen men giggle and blush when they have to take over two seats on the bus so their privates can get some air, and many appear downright cocky when they shift their junk.

Maybe if this was a universal issue, there'd be a deluge of fricken heavy-duty pads and tampons, and they'd be advertised on popular radio stations just as often as the drugs for erectile dysfunction are. Maybe instead of whispering about how bad our cramps are (which we are often ridiculed for), we'd be boasting about how debilitating they are ("Man, my cramps were so bad, I had to fucking take 800 mg Ibuprofen!" exclaims one person. "Shit, that ain't nothin'. My cramps were so bad one time, I was laid up in bed for a week!" brags the other person. They high five and compare pad brands). Women wouldn't be gross or ashamed, and periods wouldn't be ridiculed, trivialized, or dismissed. Maybe I could go to the store on any fucking day and grab the tools I need at a reasonable price.

Second, this shame leads to self-imposed quarantine and likely contributes to the misconception that women don't bleed heavily. When I am at the peak of my flow, I can't go to the beach, or go hiking, or ride a bike, or even work out at the gym. I've turned down going to a foam-rolling class and have avoided yoga class because it feels like wringing out a wet rag. I have stayed home from work and school because I was too afraid to stray too far from a clean bathroom. In fact, if I go out, I need to know there will be clean public restrooms I can use, so this limits my options to, say, malls, but not theaters because to stand up and walk to the bathroom every half hour would look suspicious. But I don't want to tell you that I can't do something with you because I'm bleeding too heavily. Sometimes I'm too shame to say so, and other times it's so I don't make you uncomfortable. And if we're not talking about it, then how do we know what other women are experiencing?

So let me share with you a very shortened version of my own story. My family has a history of bleeding issues, though I won't go into detail because those aren't my stories to tell. I have always bled heavily, but this time, I've been bleeding for five and a half weeks. This kind of bleeding leads to what I'll call physical/real pains and emotional/psychological discomfort, too. You gotta watch Key & Peele's "Menstruation Orientation" skit. Though they're men, they somehow convey the tiresome, wearisome, dreary task of changing pads and tampons day after day, every month, for years. Try doing that every day for a month and a half. It fucking sucks. And I'm swearing because it fucking sucks. When you bleed, and most especially when you lead heavily, you don't just decide to go to bed and go to bed. You have to stop in the bathroom first and get your shit situated. The same before you decide to bathe. Or leave the house. It's something you must consider before going to work or going on a date or going out to drink with friends. It's exhausting.

And now I'm anemic. I don't just avoid the gym when I'm bleeding because I'm afraid to leak, I avoid it because I'm easily fatigued. Walking up the street to Lucy's game tires me because I'm short of breath. I am constantly light-headed and worry about toppling over whenever I stand up. And have you seen me lately? I'm so fucking pale! I haven't even talked about the cramps, bloating, and back aches. These are all also very exhausting.

Because of all of this, I went to my Ob/gyn. He says an IUD will help. He says he'll do an ultrasound. I went to see my internist today, too. She supports his course of action and did further blood work. I am thankful that I can receive quality health care. I'm thankful that I have the luxury of also using essential oils to help ease my pain, discomfort, and anxiety. I am thankful for having a support group who listen to my story and understand. I am thankful for a husband who understands that I'd rather rely on food than drugs for nutrients and has the skill and desire to prepare foods to meet my dietary needs. I'm thankful that though I'm shame about some things, I'm not too shame to keep quiet about everything.

Which leads me to this blog.

Friends sometimes stop me to talk about a blog I've written, and often they say they enjoyed what they read because they could relate. And I say that I write what I write for that very reason: to unite us. To share our stories so we don't feel so alone, so weird, so abnormal. I do it to challenge the BAU mentality, whatever that may be, and to broaden the conversation to encompass more than the party line message. If you made it this far, then maybe you weren't grossed out by this message. Maybe you can see yourself or your wife or your girlfriend or daughter in it. I love when I'm stopped by my friends and they tell me their stories. I love it! Because as cathartic as it is for me to write, as much as I write just for the pure enjoyment of it, my ultimate goal is to reach an audience and have a conversation with them. It's a fricken trip.

I invite you to share your stories with me, whether that's in the comments below, in private message, in an email, over the phone, or face to face. You don't have to, of course. These are your stories and you choose when and how to share and with whom. I'm just tired of pretending something as huge as this-- something that so greatly affects my life on a regular basis-- doesn't exist or is somehow shameful. We take and share selfies, we humble brag about our kids, tell only the most flattering stories about ourselves. Often, we make each other feel bad or jealous or inferior even if we don't intend to. We hide our imperfections. I'm not judging you for that in this blog. I do it too.

But here's my story. Am I gross? Is this an overshare? I don't really care. Because if the topic of a woman's reproductive system can be a topic of politics in which everyone has a voice, we can certainly start talking about it in real and honest ways. This is what it means to be able to give birth to new life.