A Cautionary Tale

We need to talk about something.  Boys, once again I'm going to be oversharing so take this time to scatter if you're uncomfortable. 

We need to talk about post-pregnancy PMS and periods.  (I like to call it AF, short for Aunt Flo, so now you know what my short-hand means.)  We need to talk about the fact that no one warned me that my post-baby PMS and AFs would turn me into a raging B.  We need to talk about the fact that I'm boiling mad over some insignificant little disagreement (not even a fight) that I just got into with someone at work and am now gulping down my Diet Pepsi with shaking hands to stop myself from busting a cap in someone's behind.  (When you read this, the not-even-altercation will have happened yesterday, but I'm writing this right after it happened to capture and bottle the full emotion of everything.)

Ok, let me calm down here.  I need to breathe.  I'm just so sick of being caught off-guard every stinkin month by this horribleness.  But by now, it's my fault.  Fool me once...  I was actually looking forward to my post-baby AFs.  I have endometriosis, and all doctors I've ever talked to have told me that my godawful pre-baby AFs would only get better with pregnancy because pregnancy is the only known "cure" for endo.  I'm not going to get into detail here because the details of my pre-L AFs are so disgusting that even I shudder to recall them.  

So there I was bopping along all bloated and pregnant, actually looking forward to getting AF again post-L.  And then once L made his debut, I was REALLY looking forward to getting AF because that would mean I wasn't pregnant again.  And then AF came and man, I thought I was a jerk before, but she really showed me a thing or two about being mean.  

The cramps were unbearable, and as for my mood....Well, let's just say it was "All pissy all the time."  I was so mean to D that I couldn't even stand myself.  Literally every single thing he did made me want to kick a puppy.  He'd ask, "How was your day?" and I'd be all like, "HOW WAS MY DAY?  WHERE THE HECK DO YOU GET OFF ASKING ME THAT WHEN YOU SHOULD VERY WELL KNOW THAT MY DAY WAS CRAP?"  Picture the Hulk being like, "Don't get me angry.  You won't like me when I'm angry" and then getting all big and green.

I thought it was maybe just the first AF getting the kinks all ironed out, but then it started happening every time.  And now every month it's like a time bomb waiting to go off.  Right now I'm sitting here on Day 3 of AF, and my cramps are still alive and well.  I'm so bloated that I'm using a rubber band to keep my pants together, like I did when I was 8 weeks pregnant.  And don't even think of messing with me because right now, I consider my hands deadly weapons.  Like when I encounter stupid people with their stupid questions or just general stupidness (pretty much every 7 minutes or so), I get really mean.  And my voice gets really evil.  And I turn into a raging B.

So my question is, why did no one warn me about this?  Women currently gestating your first child, take note.  Heed my warning.  Use me as your cautionary tale.  You will want to stock up on Midol big-time.  And even that won't really help the "irritability" (a very mild, nice word for my mood, if you ask me).  But you know what does help an absolutely foul mood?  Drinking with your brother.  I sincerely hope one of these follows the birth of your child at some stage in the game.  (Man, Saturday night was fun.  I should post about it some time.  Let's just say that 3 drinks in 15 minutes = me walking around to my family giggling, "I'm drunk!")               

Ok deep breath.  I guess I should just consider the alternative.  No PMS or AF means that L is expecting a little brother or sister.  And that would knock me on my butt at this stage in the game.  Except that by saying this I've just tempted God to be like "See, don't joke about things like that!"  Except if I was pregnant, I could look forward to 9 months of no AF....An interesting solution to the problem.  Oh man, really?  Am I really sitting here thinking about having another baby?  Don't tell Dan.