A Surprisingly Sane Blog

I know you’re just dying to hear about my vagina today, right?  You can thank one of my readers who left me a comment (ha ha, S… good point) regarding the fact that I’m *awfully secretive* for someone who isn’t afraid to tell every last detail about her vagina.

So before I take you on my next vaginalogue, I want to explain something about being “secretive”.  See, some things are very time and case sensitive, and if the wrong person read this particular “secret” that I mentioned yesterday… well, it could cause some problems.  It’s like birthing prematurely.  If that baby busts out a little too soon, it can have health issues.  Sometimes, all it needs is a couple days more.  This particular secret is kind of like that.  Plus, I don’t want to jinx anyone, so I’m just waiting patiently to find out what happens.  However, I’m not kidding when I say I really hate having to keep things from all of you.

Okay, so back to my vagina.

If you happened to be one of the lucky readers who missed all my previous posts about my private parts, you simply must go back and read all about the issues I’ve dealt with post-birthing-a-behemoth-sized-baby.

You can read all about the three, yes… not one or two, but three… types of prolapse I suffered from after April’s homebirth here.  In addition to making it nearly impossible for me to poop and pee, it caused all sorts of sexual trauma for me, which you can read about here.  Luckily, we found an amazing pelvic floor rehabilitation physical therapist who was able to whip my vadge back into pretty good shape.  You can read about what physical therapy involving one’s vagina is like here.  Then finally, I learned that my vagina was actually nothing to be ashamed of and that it’s perfect just the way it is, which you can read about here.

But believe it or not, there is more about my vagina oh yes that you haven’t heard.  If vaginas could write a book, mine would be a multi-millionaire.

You ready for it?

Well, here it goes.  Eleven years ago, long before I ever had any experience with the opposite sex in any way, shape, or form, I had a severe gland infection that got out of control and led to surgery on yes, my private parts.  Basically, what happened was that a gland called the Skene’s gland somehow managed to get blocked, swelled up to the size of a watermelon (no, not really), and exploded.  I was very, very ill for a few months dealing with the infection, and I ended up in surgery to remove said gland.

Well, after the surgery and the few-month healing period, I finally felt better.  I’ve had a little trouble with the same gland on the other side, but it luckily hasn’t gotten to the point the other side has (yet).  After April’s birth it did swell up pretty badly and I thought I might have to have it removed, but it ended up being okay.

So add all this to the first-birth tearing and poor healing, the prolapse, the sexual issues I’ve dealt with and everything else, and you can see why I just LOVE to talk about my vagina.  There’s just so much to say. *sarcastic snort*

I wish I could say my “woe is my twat” stories end there, but they don’t.  Yesterday morning, I noticed that I had another swollen cyst-like thing on the same side as where I had my surgery.  It hurts, and I kind of want to cry because I’m concerned it may be the Bartholin gland acting up.  The surgery to fix that is a bit more intense than just removing it because that’s not a gland you want to lose.  I’m sure it will pass *fingers crossed*, but in the meantime, it’s uncomfortable.

*sigh*

Will the pubic-area problems ever end?  And am I the only one who struggles with all these issues?  I know life isn’t fair, but this just sucks.  I’ve never even had an STD to blame.  If I did, at least I could say there was a reason all of this happens to me.  But no, I’ve been a pretty good legs-closed-tight sort of girl for the most part.

But there is a bright side, at least.  James.

You wanna know why I have the best husband in the world?  Because last night after I told him about it, he wanted to take a look.  And despite the fact that he was taking a peek between my legs at the swollen lump tucked away where the sun doesn’t shine, he looked at me longingly with those gorgeous hazel eyes of his and told me in a hushed voice that I am the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.  And he really, truly meant it.

Send warm wishes my way that this swollen gland calms down.  It kind of hurts to sit, walk, and do anything at all, so I’m more than a little nervous about flying to Seattle this afternoon.

Great, huh.

Current Mood: Alarmed