While many new moms proudly flaunt their stretch marks as badges of honor, I found myself dealing with an entirely different challenge: pregnancy hemorrhoids. Yes, those uncomfortable, bulbous nuisances that appeared without warning during my second pregnancy.
As friends celebrated their body changes, I was left grappling with my own embarrassing predicament. It’s not exactly a topic of conversation at playdates—“Hey, do you have any tips for managing hemorrhoids?”
The discomfort began at eight weeks into my pregnancy. I was blissfully unaware, thinking hemorrhoids were just an unfortunate fate for those well into their golden years. But one day, the discomfort became undeniable. I knew I had to investigate.
Armed with a large mirror, I took a deep breath and braced myself. What I saw was nothing short of a horror show—lumps and bumps surrounding my backside. Panic set in. “Honey! Google hemorrhoids right now!” I urged my partner, Mark.
“Absolutely not,” he replied, looking horrified.
Frantic, I grabbed my phone and embarked on an online quest for relief, discovering that my salvation lay in a tube of hemorrhoid cream. The catch? It meant a trip to the grocery store or local pharmacy, which instantly ignited my sense of dread.
I had just gotten over the embarrassment of buying super-absorbent pads, but this felt like a whole new level of humiliation. With two kids and two decades of periods behind me, I thought I’d conquered any shopping awkwardness. But nothing could prepare me for the “anal aisle” of the store.
Surrounded by enemas, laxatives, and other rectal remedies, I felt like I was in the wrong part of a supermarket. The only other shopper was a sweet elderly lady with two gallons of prune juice.
When it came time to check out, I had to face the music. I concealed the tube of Preparation H in my hand, trying to look casual. “Please, just give me a female cashier,” I thought desperately. Instead, I was greeted by a teenage boy with a face full of acne—perfect.
As I placed the tube on the conveyor belt, a hot firefighter strolled by, further amplifying my anxiety. He smiled, I smiled back, and then I sunk my gaze down, wishing for the earth to swallow me whole.
“Did you find everything you needed?” the teen cashier asked, sending my heart racing. I wanted to shout, “Just put it in a bag already!”
With a death glare, I muttered a barely coherent response before grabbing my bag and fleeing through the automatic doors.
Back home, I eagerly tore open the box, only to discover that I needed wipes first. Did we have baby wipes? I settled for the dried-out ones in my kid’s bathroom. Then came the moment of truth: the applicator. No way was I using that. I bent down in front of the mirror, opting for a Q-tip instead—classy, right?
After two weeks of diligent use, I still had hemorrhoids. Off to the doctor I went for a confirmation. “Yes, you have hemorrhoids,” she said, while a wave of relief washed over me. “I’ll call in a prescription for something stronger.”
Why hadn’t I just come to the doctor sooner? I could’ve skipped the embarrassment of the grocery store completely! Well, unless the doctor was cute—then I might have had to rethink my strategy.
If you’re looking for more insights on pregnancy and related topics, check out this excellent resource on pregnancy or consider exploring at-home insemination kits for a complete journey in parenthood at Make a Mom. And for more tips on this subject, visit our contact page.
In summary, while the experience of buying hemorrhoid cream is a cringe-worthy rite of passage for many expectant mothers, it ultimately leads to necessary relief. Embrace the journey, and remember that you’re not alone in facing these unique challenges.