Don’t you love surprises?
Nah, me neither.
Today was my first day off of a three day weekend, but I had plenty to do. I’ve been feeling slightly off — headaches, sore chest, pelvic pain, other issues — but I can chalk all those up to a new birth control, change of seasons and stress, what with the rough week behind me, including a big pay cut for all the company’s employees and having a bad “relationship talk” and planning for my upcoming doula workshop. Plus, with Walk for Freedom on Sunday and me trying to sell the shirts (you want one?), naturally I’m stressed.
But today seemed an OK day. I did a great job at urban ballet on Thurdsay night and can really feel the difference as my body quickly returns to some form of fitness. I spent the day with my client and friend J, whose baby I will help deliver in August, as well as her boyfriend, Se, and her two beautiful, funny sons. After lunch at an Indian buffet (the little ones love that palak paneer), we carpooled to St. Augustine to visit her midwife (a doula’s role is to support, after all, and I can use all the contacts I can get) and spent most of the day in a welcoming home, talking babies and ordering raspberry leaves in bulk for comfort tea and watching J’s BF and the midwife’s husband perform an impromptu drum circle while the boys, ages 6 and 3, danced and drummed and the midwife’s young daughter, 8 months, bounced feverishly and nommed my fingers.
But on the way home, I started feeling a twisting cramp that came and went suddenly. J noticed; I just told her I was having a bad day. She understands and supports me; so does her BF. But it was one of those pains where it erases any other intention you have and you feel suddenly and solidly justified in canceling all your plans to go home and curl up like a pill bug. But J and I also take a belly dancing class at one of the local universities and both missed last week’s class, so as soon as we got me back to my car, I went straight to the university to get changed and ready for class while J and company got themselves sorted.
I should have known something was up when I called four people in rapid succession because I somehow couldn’t remember how to get to the university from where I was and left increasingly panicked/angry messages for all my friends. (I got there perfectly, without directions, and half an hour early.) And when I went to the bathroom to change into my dance clothes … SURPRISE! My period.
“Irrational fury” is the only way I can describe my reaction. Thankfully I was alone in the ladies room, but I found myself having to use an o.b. because I was caught off guard and didn’t have my Diva Cup. I’ll talk more about o.b. vs. Diva Cup in another post. But of course I was surprised — I only ended my moon 12 days ago, putting me on a 20-day cycle when I’m used to at least 30 these days!
Hurting, shocked and hating my body, I really threw myself into the class. I felt so good after the first class; at the start of this one, I could barely stand up, so this one didn’t have the same effect. However, I was really “angry zen” about it, so I excelled at the routines and am pleased to be getting some of my previous talent back.
Sigh. If nothing else, at least this explains why it physically hurt too much to do some of the abdominal exercises at ballet on Thursday and why I’ve been feeling so rotten lately. But did it have to happen the same weekend as I’m leading a charity walk?!