It That Shall Not Be Named

Gather 'round and lean in close, ladies, because things are about to get weird, intimate, graphic, and super awkward. I can't help it, it's kinda my thing.

Ladies, what in the shit is wrong with us? There are new moms out there, happy and basking in their pregnancy glow and heads full of long, luscious pregnancy hair that have no clue about my topic today, and it should be our job to warn them, but we fucking don't.

 

Disclaimer for any menfolk who may have wandered in. You poor unfortunate souls. I’m about to talk about something that women don’t have, or get, like periods, morning breath, farting, or pooping.

Speaking of poor unfortunate souls, they have a lot in common with my topic. Remember those sad, weird creatures that cling to the sides of Ursula's dark under lair? 

Well, these also cling to the sides of your dark lair.

Hemorrhoids!

Hemorrhoids. It that shall not be named. You have them. You do! At some point during our pregnancy, Oprah paid us an unwanted visit with a bag full of them, like the Santa Claus of gross: “You get hemorrhoids, you get hemorrhoids, and YOU get hemorrhoids!”

They're a thing that is a thing, that every mom knows is a thing, but pretends to not have and pretends to not know that each other has, because nobody wants to admit that it’s a thing! It's time to come the fuck on and get over ourselves. Expecting moms need to be warned.

Hemorrhoids are like some shitty little pregnancy souvenir you pick out next to a bunch of other crap you don’t need. Sphincter bubble gum, right next to the mucus plugs and pickled cankles. Little skin trolls who plunder your butthole and decide to take up residence. The true butthole pirates. 

According to WebMD, “Hemorrhoids are swollen veins in the lowest part of your rectum and anus,” and they are something us ladies often experience during pregnancy because of the added weight and strain on our nether regions, and also from pushing a Wolverine watermelon out of our vagina during delivery. They can end there, or they can carry on to be the gift that never stops giving. An itchy, uncomfortable butthole nubbin. Couldn’t it at least be helpful when it/they pay us a visit? We could get them fitted for hooks or prosthetics so they could do laundry, wash dishes, pop pacifiers back into the mouths of babes, or entertain our children.

The struggle is real, but don’t worry, ladies, there’s a remedy for hemorrhoids! Also according to WebMD, they can be “gently” pushed back into place if they don’t retreat on their own. You know, the ol' "boop 'n' tuck". Have fun “gently” fingering your butt!

There are also preventative measures you can take to possibly avoid hemorrhoids, a list of shit that makes you sad, like exercise, eat fiber, and drink a ton of water. “Just be healthy!” the go-to advice healthcare experts doll out when they want to say, “Yeah, you’re fuckin’ screwed” but can’t. 

 

I don’t know how to end this post. I can only hope that my lack of shame has at least entertained you and made you feel a little less alone in your butthole misery.

This is the one time I’m hoping a post of mine doesn’t go viral. Please don’t make me the hemorrhoid lady. I do not want to be that kind of champion.