My 12 y/o daughter had her first period this week. When she told me she had "started" I immediately went back, in my mind, to the day I had my first period. I was 13. I remember being afraid to tell my mother. I guess I was embarassed. My mom handed me some pads and that was pretty much it. I remember feeling alone, scared, and disappointed that my mom didn't recognize what an important day it was for me.
My thoughts quickly returned to the present. My daughter sitting next to me in the front seat of the car, just out of school for the day, and telling me that she has started her period. I smiled at her, and told her congratulations. I patted her thigh, and asked her if she was feeling OK? Mind you, the whole time I'm congratulating her, and patting her leg, I'm also choking back tears. My baby girl is growing up, and I'm not so sure that I'm ready.
We stop at the drug store and pick out several boxes and bags of panty liners. Blues ones, pink ones, some with wings, some without.....short ones, long ones.....some for "light days" and some for "heavy days." As we shop she relives the moment she discovered she had "started", and how she went to to the school nurse, ect. ect. I listened and I asked questions. I complimented her on how she handled herself with such grace and confidence. She smiled at me and gave me a hug.
It was a good day and hopefully many years from now, when my daughters daughter is growing up, my daughter will reflect, and remember with a smile, the day she had her first period.
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