2/When the flooding begins
The photo for this post is me in Tofino a few years ago and you would never know from this photo what was going on below the surface. We moved to Vancouver months before the pandemic and ended up not seeing much outside our neighbourhood for a time. This was our first real exploration of British Columbia and more than anything, I really wanted to surf.
I was coming off of several intense years of caretaking and home learning. I was burnt out and had lost track of want brought me joy. I wanted to rediscover adventure, to feel alive, to have fun! Surfing seemed just like the thing. Except I had my period; my awful, crampy, heavy perimenopausal period. Actually, the word ‘heavy’ does not really do justice to the Niagara Falls experience I was having that always kept me at a stone’s throw from the nearest restroom. I could hardly go for a 10 minute walk without the horror of a deluge; how in the world was I going to manage a wet suit? Well, it is probably no surprise but there was no surfing that trip. And I was angry about it. I felt thwarted. I felt betrayed by my body. I felt it was immensely unfair that just as my world should be opening up to some pleasure, I was held back.
A few months later, I ended up having an iron infusion because I was so anemic. Here is the irony of flooding — the more you bleed, the more anemic you become; the more anemic you become, the more you bleed.
Here is what you need to know about flooding (aka menorrhagia):
It is common, but it is not normal. Do not accept it.
Know that normal flow is 2 Tbs over your whole period. Calculate your volume.
Talk to your doctor and specify the difference between your volume and what is considered normal.
Drink extra fluids with electrolytes to compensate for the blood loss.
While you are at it, check your vitamin D levels because low levels are associated with menstrual disorder.
