I Love My Menstrual Cup

I still remember my hatred of sanitary towels. It began aged 13, having to conceal them in my schoolbag. We were lucky in that my mother worked out our favourite brands and provided an unlimited supply. I would hate the feeling of blood pooling on them when I was trying to learn in class, the fear of leaving any marks on chairs, the rustling the wrappers would make in the school toilets. The huge inconvenience, the vulnerability of it.

The smell, pungent like rusty iron. I still felt like a little girl and this dreaded monthly ritual made me feel dirty. The heavy cramps that would sometimes take my breath away. Changing for PE and hoping nobody would notice the wings of the towel.

I moved onto tampons as soon I was able which helped, those dainty 'teen' size ones that unfortunately had the skill of bouncing out if you dropped your bag. My disgust of my body meant I would swathe my hands in toilet roll to insert them. Easily hidden up sleeves and easily disposed of.

It made me feel so sophisticated, even if the reality was sometimes cringe-worthy. The struggle to get the first ever one in. The panic when you thought you had lost the string. The way towards the end of the week they would become dry and stiff and hard to use. They weren't infallible. I still dreaded the ominous trickling that sometimes occurred.

Periods lasted at least 7 days, regular as clockwork. I would look in the mirror and see a stranger. Pale and wan, Like my life was running out of me. Still I was expected to climb the hill to school, to sit and concentrate, to ignore the wetness between my thighs or try not to clock watch so I would not miss the 8 hour warning of toxic shock risk. The chafing, the irritability of itchy bleached cotton. The summer and the heat. Knowing you had to figure out to use a tampon so you could go swimming with your friends. Dreading every month.

I didn't have a period for two years, from when I was pregnant to when Judah was over a year old. It was amazing. Freeing. The absence of hormonal peaks and troughs. Not worrying about ruining underwear, or having to wear it to bed as a barrier. I thoroughly enjoyed the break and peace I found in the interim. It made time seem slower without this regular routine, somehow.

In the meantime, I spent of maternity leave learning. Not just about how to care for a baby, but about everything. Natural birth, natural parenting. Changing the way I began to see the world and my place in it. Learning about alternatives to almost everything. The thought of using tampons again after Judah made me feel slightly ill for some reason. I saw the Mooncup on the shelf at Boots and thought for twenty quid it was worth a try. It could even end up being an investment! It came in two sizes so I picked the one for women who had had a vaginal birth.

It sat in a drawer until 15 months postpartum. I was so excited to use it. It was very much trial and error in getting it positioned right and trimming the stem to make it comfortable. I had a lot of leaks on that first cycle as I adjusted. What amazed me was how quickly my squeamishness evaporated. You had to fold it up to insert it, and pinch the base to break the suction when removing. I couldn't believe how easy and wonderful it was. Getting it out was sometimes tricky but I used my birth motto (relax the jaw to release the pelvic floor) and that was sufficient in getting the cup to descend. 

My cramps disappeared, my mood improved. No longer caught off-guard, I could put it in on the day I was expecting my period and pre-empt any accidents. No risk of toxic shock, it had a huge capacity and only needed changing twice a day. No more remembering to take sanitary items everywhere with me. Feeling like my body and I were a team again. Feeling like I was doing my bit to help the planet.

Since my first postpartum period they have become slightly heavier, and I do find that on the first couple of days I use cloth pads as back up for my trusty Mooncup. Cloth pads are wonderful things, miles away from the scratchy towels of my teenagehood.

I think every woman should at least consider reusable sanitary protection, not only for the financial and environmental implications but also for wellbeing. You can try cups, cloth pads, sponges. We don't know exactly what chemicals are in disposable items but there is some evidence to suggest they cause painful cramps and thrush in women. Not to mention the general disgust we have for women's bodies which is evident in the secretive, disposable nature of these items. My cup forced me to get acquainted with myself and I've never been happier for it.

I honestly love it so much and can say it has changed my life.

Why I Love Being A Woman

before we get started, this is all about my experience of womanhood and what it means to be. by no means do I believe this is everybody's experience - if you had to write a list I'm sure yours would be different and wonderful too. There are many ways to be a woman and however you choose to express that is right for you.

It can be easy to get overwhelmed with negativity - living as a woman in a patriarchal society that still discriminates and condemns has its struggles. It is a myth that women who are in touch with their spiritual side are all love, light and blessings. You might find that these women are actually well-acquainted with their darker side, have accepted it and embraced it, even though society tells them they must put a smile on their face and pretend it doesn't exist.

The problem about suppressing those darker feelings, that darker nature of woman, is that when feelings become suppressed they manifest in other ways. As women, how we suffer! Menstrual cramps, migraines, irritable bowel - I used to frequently suffer with all these things and I am inclined to believe a lot of it was to do with the anxiety and tension I was holding in my body. Even now when I am pushing myself too hard, a migraine gets sent to force me to bed.

All these things aside - I love being a woman. I wouldn't choose to be anything else. I have no concept of being anything else. The immense benefits I gain from womanhood, although they don't erase my weaker position in society, they give me inner satisfaction. I used to see my body as something alien and unpredictable that kept letting me down, but now I see it as a living organism with cycles and patterns I was too busy to notice before.

Why I love being a woman...

I love my ability to grow a child and give birth. Far from being a static, decorative object, my body is incredible. It can produce a child from the minutest of cells and keep that child alive after birth until they are ready to wean. The power and strength I discovered in my body during labour is one of the biggest revelations of my life. I wouldn't swap this gift for anything.

I love the bond with other women. When I was younger I was indoctrinated into the idea that women are only rivals for love and possessions. I used to prefer the simple, light company of my male friends that didn't make any emotional demands on me and seemed uncomplicated. Every encounter with another woman was awkward as we sized each other up and mentally decided who was superior. I used to think that women were frivolous and jealous beings that I didn't have the time for. The bonds that were broken over men. As I grew I began to crave a deeper kind of friendship and I have met some amazing women who really challenged my idea of what it means to be a woman and supported and nourished my growth. I consider these women sisters and best friends. It is a bond like no other.

I love my relationship with my mother. As I became a mother myself I only truly began to appreciate the immense sacrifice and love that goes into having a child.. I think the bond between mother and daughter is so special and I hope I can experience it again for myself one day.

I love the connection women have with the spiritual. I am in tune with nature's cycles, the small shifts in the universe and generally operate on a different level. I love exploring the pagan side of womanhood and the meaning of the Goddess and it has been a journey of wonderful self-discovery. I love that women evolve and change through Maiden, Mother and Crone and our nature is never stagnant.

I love breastfeeding. It fills me with joy to be able to sustain a child with only my body. I love the hunger in a baby's face for the milk and the fervour with which they latch on and drink their fill. The oxytocin courses through my body, causing my shoulders to relax and me to sigh. The slow glug of the baby as they drink, when they are finished and they have one red cheek and milk running down their cheek. It is the most beautiful thing.

I love the connection with nature. Before I had my son, I felt like I was the only person with an animal body trying to pass as a human. I couldn't believe that this body, with hair and sweat and monthly bleeding, had any correlation with anybody else's. This was until I discovered the lie about womanhood to hide us from our true natures. Women are SUPPOSED to be closer to nature and all that that entails  - that is the source of our true power. But we have been convinced otherwise, convinced that our role is to be soft and perfect or else we have somehow 'failed' at being a woman. 

I love following the cycles of the moon. The 'mens' in menstrual means moon. If you track your cycle you should start to notice a pattern. The theory is that there are two separate moon cycles:
- the mother cycle. This is when you ovulate with the full moon and bleed with the new moon. This is nature's basic blueprint and is optimum for conceiving children.
- the wisewoman cycle. This is when you ovulate with the new moon and bleed with the full moon. This is said to be the cycle of wisewomen and witches.
It is important to remember that your cycle can fluctuate between the two cycles depending on your state of mind and what stage you are at in your life. 

I love the contrast I feel with my men. I believe that there is a difference between men and women and one that can be embraced. I feel like many men and I are opposites; they are the solid mountain and I am the stream that runs fast or slow, creating the undercurrent of our relationship. There is a visceral pleasure I feel when they hold me and I can feel that heart beating to what I know is a different rhythm. 

I love the pleasure it brings me to decorate my body, not as society dictates but how I feel most beautiful. The tattoos that fit the curves of my body and the earrings that swoop down my neck. The delicate rings curving around my nose and the way they glitter in the sunlight. All these things give me pleasure in my body and appearance for all the right reasons.

I love my bond with my son. I love that I birthed him, held him and nourished him in his early days and in moments of distress it is my arms he wants to find. I will love him like no other and will never let him be in doubt of that.

When I Wrap You

When I wrap you, I become hands-free. Whether this is holding a hand, texting a friend on my phone, or sipping a cup of tea as we stroll through the park together, admiring the autumn leaves. When you were nursing a lot as a little baby and I would get unbelievably hungry, it was really handy to be able to eat and hold you at the same time. I can still remember dropping bits of my sandwich on your head and hoping nobody had noticed. Now I use those hands for tickling you as we play games on the walk home or for putting your wellies back on for the millionth time. It was easy for me to spend time with your siblings so they would not resent you, having my hands to help with homework or climb over rocks or swing around, or simply cuddle. It has made things so easy. You fit right in. I love you.

When I wrap you, it's quick and easy. You are as deft and capable as a little monkey, you have been trained so well. I remember those early days when I would sweat and cry and worry I would drop you but something told me I needed to get it right. As my brain struggled to understand this new skill I was trying to learn and I would be frustrated with me, and you, I cried. Now you perch on my hip and manoeuvre yourself with confidence and my hands are so quick I don't even think. We learned that together. I love you.

When I wrap you, we get each other's body temperature. This is harder in summer when we stick to each other and the fabric makes me sweat. It's wonderful in winter as I don't have to worry about you, snuggled in and warm. Remember when you were in the womb and we shared everything? This gentle transition to becoming a separate person feels natural and right. I hope you enjoyed the warm water when I carried you inside, just like you enjoy cuddling in now when you're tired. Remember when you were a little baby and you would sleep in the wrap for hours? I would smell your sweet head and that milky breath and get a rush of oxytocin to help me heal from your birth. I love you.

When I wrap you, people look at us strangely. Sometimes they smile. You love the attention. They said you'd be clingy if I never put you down but do you know, it's worked the other way? From your safe little haven you can smile and talk to strangers and not worry about them coming too close. They can't when you are beside me. When you're up high like that you become more like a person than a child and it makes my heart sing to see you included in the world. A part of these conversations, observing these gestures, you learn so much! Your language is growing at an incredible rate. How did I produce such a child? You amaze me. I love you.

When I wrap you, I don't have to worry about you crying. When you were just born and I was a scared new mum, I would frantically rock you in your pram to get you to stop crying. If only I had known you just wanted to be near me. If I know that need is fulfilled I can relax and enjoy you, as we go about the world together. It reassures me to know we have had that close body contact, that emotional need that ensures our wellbeing. Together we make each other stronger. I'm sorry that I didn't work it out sooner. I love you.

When I wrap you, we can explore the world together. The places we go, I sometimes think, what if you are the first baby to have been there? Across a rocky beach to an island, up a hill, in a fortress. My legs burn and ache as we climb but it feels liberating, it feels incredible. The experiences we have shared together will stay in my memory forever, your wide eyes as they take in everything you've seen. We immerse ourselves in nature and the wonders the world has to offer. This I am able to give you. I love you.

When I wrap you, I am practising an ancient art that was nearly lost to women. Using garments or cloth to fasten their babies to their bodies, bending to their work or travelling long distances. Whether in beautiful, purpose-woven fabric or an old bit of sack, the purpose the same. Those little ones held safe and secure against their mothers' strong bodies, observing and learning. You are not a burden, I want you here close to me. It is easier when we are together than apart. Go through the world with me. I love you.

When I wrap you, in some ways it is no different from the first time. Your weight never changes, I grow in strength daily. The same fabrics have held and supported your growing body and although the times are fewer now, they will be there to hold you. The soft, worn and stained patterns hold the memories of our life together and the weight of my love for you. I have tried to show you the best way I can. I love you.

When I wrap you, it is for convenience. You walk everywhere now, my strong independent soul, the carrier waiting for its golden opportunity. Those soft words, 'Mummy, wrap' or the indignant, 'No, mummy, walk' - how furious you are when I get it wrong! These times of closeness are fewer and far between and I will soon have to come up with more inventive ways of mothering you, but this way has always worked. I love you.

When I wrap you, I know it's changed my life. Who would have thought that I would teach people how to do this? It has become a skill, a passion, a way to help other mothers bond with their babies.  You have helped and taught me. Thank you. I love you.

When I wrap you, it is defiant. The support and encouragement I longed for was never given. The surprise when they realised how well it works. I kept going because I am stubborn by nature, I can see you are too. So the opposition was in fact a gift, it spurred me to learn and stick with it. When you are older you may be embarrassed by your difficult mother who always has to do things her own way. But remember, little one, it worked in your favour once. I will remember you smiling and chatting and reaching those tiny arms around my neck and bringing your head to the side for a kiss. What waves we have made together. I love you.