At BritMums Live 2015, I had the chance to meet Carol Smiley, who was there with her new range of women’s pants called Diary Doll, especially designed for those unfortunate accidents and mishaps we all have in womanhood.
Standing chatting to Carol about periods and all things girly that should have a big TMI stamp on them, I made a confession about my first experience using tampons.
My periods started age 8. Yes, I was shockingly young. I did my best to understand. Pads were chunky and not folded up in little packs. It constantly felt like I was wearing a nappy and sometimes looked like it too. These were the days in the 80’s that neon leggings were on trend.
I learned about my cycle, I was 27 days like clockwork. I had a diary and I worked out with a special code when I was due. My Mum taught me well.
When I was 11 I was due to go on holiday with my grandparents and cousins. I was mortified. My period fell right in the middle of the holiday while I was away. I cried because I wanted to be in the pool or on the beach. Not sat in the chalet with comfy clothes on and a hot water bottle in the middle of June. It was then that my Mum bravely sat me down and explained more about the birds and the bees, and also about tampons. She showed me hers which were kept in the bathroom cupboard and she told me to practice with them and get used to using them.
I was so happy that I could still go swimming. That I would not have to carry bulky pads about with me and be embarrassed if my cousins saw them.
So, 11 year old me tries a tampon. Goes in easy enough. Mum tells me to walk about a bit and get used to it. It feels funny, it is uncomfortable but if it means a stress and worry free holiday I can live with it.
I sit back down on the loo and decide to remove it. I pull the blue string. It doesn’t budge.
I pull harder and it hurts.
I shout for my Mum who tells me that everything is fine and I just tells me that I’m not pulling hard enough and I should give it a good tug.
Nope. It hurts, I am now crying and getting scared.
My Mum starts to wonder what’s happening and goes off to get my Dad who stands outside the bathroom door trying to give me words of encouragement.
At this moment my Mum’s friend turns up and is briefed about the current situation. She decides that she can help me, but she just has to get a good look at what is going on. I am now mortified and go into full blown hysterics about the thought of my mum’s hairdresser looking at my vajayjay.
My Dad is the sensible one and decides he will take me to the hospital. Crying and snotting over everyone I am driven to the local accident and emergency department where a lovely nurse tries to help me. My Dad is sat outside waiting for me while the nurse explains that my hymen has not broken and that it has gone over the tampon and is holding it in. She has to make a tiny cut which will be painless but I will need to wear a pad for a while and not use tampons till I have healed up.
Through all the stress of this going on and me being so upset, mother nature wad good to me and my period started early, the week before my holiday. I was so happy! I developed a phobia of tampons until in was in my late twenties. After I had Nathan I realised that something like that was most certainly not going to happen again!
The things you tell Carol Smiley!
Originally posted on A Mum Inspired