While many celebrate their stretch marks as badges of honor from pregnancy and childbirth, I found myself grappling with an entirely different issue: hemorrhoids. These painful, swollen lumps around my rectal area were not the battle scars I anticipated.
As friends flaunted their stretch marks, I felt the need to hide my own “battle wounds.” #HemorrhoidProblems #MomLife #RectalChallenges #RealTalk
The discomfort began early in my second pregnancy, around the eight-week mark. Initially, I was oblivious to what was happening. I had assumed hemorrhoids were just an affliction of the elderly. One particularly painful day, I decided it was time to investigate.
Armed with a large mirror in my bathroom, I bravely examined my behind. To my horror, I discovered multiple lumps surrounding my anus. Panic set in as I screamed for my husband, “Quick! Google hemorrhoids! What should I do?!”
“I’m not Googling that,” he replied, understandably hesitant.
I took matters into my own hands, discovering that relief could be found in a tube of hemorrhoid cream. But this meant venturing into a public store—cue the embarrassment. After years of buying feminine hygiene products, I thought I was beyond such awkwardness. However, nothing prepared me for the humiliation of the “anal aisle,” where I was surrounded by laxatives and enemas, and the only other shopper was an elderly woman with prune juice.
The situation escalated further when it was time to buy Preparation H. I tried to discreetly conceal the tube in my hand as I approached the checkout. All I could think was, “Please, let me avoid the teenage cashier who will undoubtedly share this moment with his friends.”
Of course, fate had different plans; the only cashier available was a young boy. Great. I should have grabbed a loaf of bread or some milk to mask my purchase. As the tube of cream inched toward him on the conveyor belt, I considered blurting out, “It’s for my grandma!” but refrained—this would only make me seem more guilty.
Just as I was spiraling into embarrassment, a handsome firefighter strolled into my line. My heart raced as I attempted to look nonchalant. “Did you find everything alright today, ma’am?” the cashier asked, further intensifying my anxiety. I wanted to scream, “Just bag it already!”
After receiving my purchase, I hurried home, eager to find relief. The instructions indicated I needed wipes first. Panic set in again—did we have any baby wipes? I rummaged through my child’s bathroom, resorting to dried-out wipes that I revived with water. Upon opening the hemorrhoid cream, I discovered an applicator, which I promptly decided against using. Instead, I opted for a Q-tip.
After two weeks of dedicated use, my hemorrhoids persisted. A visit to the doctor confirmed my fears; yes, I indeed had hemorrhoids. Thankfully, my physician prescribed a stronger cream that could have spared me the public humiliation entirely. If only I had known that a simple appointment could have saved me from that mortifying encounter at the store.
In the end, I’d take a rectal exam any day over facing the judgment of fellow shoppers. Unless, of course, the doctor happens to be a looker—then my priorities might shift.
For those reading this who are considering home insemination, check out this post about the BabyMaker Home Intracervical Insemination Syringe Kit or explore the 18-piece At-Home Insemination Kit for more options. If you’re looking for more information about pregnancy, Progyny offers excellent resources.
Summary:
This narrative humorously discusses the embarrassment of purchasing hemorrhoid cream amid the challenges of pregnancy. It highlights the stigma surrounding such products and emphasizes the importance of seeking help from medical professionals rather than facing public scrutiny.
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