Dear Hormones,
So I’ve been thinking about having this real and honest spill with you for a few years now, but truthfully, I was a little concerned about your reaction. I’ve always figured you would take it the wrong way, get offended, and retaliate by sending me on an uncalled for rage, perhaps against the dishwasher for not getting all the food particles off after a full cycle.
And that’s just not fair to her. We all know it’s my fault in the end for filling her insides beyond capacity with days old, unsoaked casserole dishes.
I think back fondly of the days I first became aware of your existence. I reminisce on our love/hate relationship from my teenage years.
You brought me unwelcome new friends like acne, but you also brought new feelings to my little body, like the butterflies in my stomach when I watched Patrick Swayze in Dirty Dancing.
But honestly, I always thought it was rather cruel to develop new emotions within me of interest and nervousness around the cute boy in my math class, but then confuse me with a plethora of unwelcome body changes that were already embarrassing to me, never mind what little Billy thought.
It’s like inspire me to want to wear make-up to look nice for my new crush, but bombard my face with zits.
And just when I thought I was comfortable wearing a bra, you went ahead and scared me like crazy. Even though Mom warned me, I really thought I was bleeding to death and would require EMS. And figuring out some of those feminine products, how-to and which one, was a torture in itself.
Between the pain and body hair we developed a mutual respect though, didn’t we?
As I journeyed through my twenties you seemed to take a step back. I know you likely felt neglected and unwanted as I used chemical contraceptives to keep you at bay. It wasn’t personal, really.
But thanks for hiding in the shadows, waiting in the wings until I needed you again.
Then in my thirties I thought it would be really “magical” to get pregnant, and while it was an amazing experience growing a little human I’ll admit, I don’t think I really knew your true colors until those 9 months of insanity.
Just the thought of your bipolar tendencies displayed during my pregnancy leave me wanting to curl into the fetal position, rocking back and forth with my hands over my ears repeating, “no, no, no.”
When else can you cause everything in my body to go haywire, and cause such asinine symptoms as heartburn, nausea, fatigue, muscle aches that make me feel 150 years old, gingivitis, skin changes like increased acne, moles, rashes, and pigmentation, varicose veins, swelling, headaches, strange dreams, weird cravings, hair growth (wanted and not wanted alike), dizziness, gas, absent-mindedness or forgetfulness, clumsiness, increased shoe size, joint pain, a strange line going down my belly, dry skin, and emotional instability, just to name a few of course.
We got through all that because of the gain. I kept telling myself it was only 40 weeks, and then I get a precious, little baby. Hooray.
Well, not to be taken for granted, in postpartum days you really pulled out all the stops. The roller coaster ride of emotional ups and downs was staggering. Coupled with sleepless nights, unrealistic expectations for self body image, and the shock of caring totally for another tiny person, the resurgence and imbalance of your levels drove many of us women under the covers with the blues, or even worse. Add in some lactation hormones and it was even more crowded in our unstable new mommy minds.
But we hung in there with the hopes of better days. After all our male OBGYN told us things should balance out soon at our 6 week check-up. And he should know personally, right?!
But you never let it be like it was! Do you?
And that’s where I’m at with you Hormones. I’m a little fed up. I’m a little exhausted. I’m a little bothered by your insistence on making me feel like I’m slowly losing my mind.
I can understand crying at something sad, but why must I cry at funny things? Or really cute things? Or stuff that makes me mad? Or for no reason what so ever?!
Why did I not like sweets so much in my twenties (you know, when I was really skinny and always smiling), but now I crave them endlessly (even while my hips and generous mommy tummy tell me no way)?
Why can’t it be like the good ole days Hormones, when you used to stay out of my business and just come by to visit for a few days once a month or so?
Now you never leave.
And as if that isn’t bad enough, I’m hearing from my older friends that I have even more tumultuous experiences ahead. Like after all we’ve done for each other, when I start ushering the kids to their own destinies and am thinking of starting my twenties over again in my fifties, you’ll suddenly pack your bags and leave. Your departure will leave me so shaken and unsettled that I’ll experience insomnia, depression, and hot flashes.
After all we’ve been through?! Is it true that I’ll have to replace you?
Just the thought leaves me wanting to weep. Well, that’s not surprising to you, is it? After all I cry a lot.
So I suppose after all these years we still have a love/hate relationship.
You’ve brought me crying spells and screaming fits, but you’ve also brought me love, fertility, rest, and a life full of happiness.
So even though I’m kinda mad at you (which is all your fault by the way), I can handle your mood swings in light of all the life you’ve brought my way.
I know we can keep this relationship going, you and I, and maybe you’ll even consider taking it easy on me later in life.
Until then, if I may request, can I please stop breaking down into a sobbing mess over all the commercials featuring babies, soldiers coming home, or moms experiencing their children’s milestones?
Thanks in advance,
A Woman
P.S.
I was wondering also if I could have my memory back? I haven’t seen it since my first child was conceived.