I don’t remember the time of year, maybe it was mid-fall. I was in the 7th grade (so middle school in the US) and I had the flu. This was one of those flus where you had it so bad that thinking and breathing were almost impossibilities. I had a fever high enough to fry an egg on my head (as my mother put it).
In school I had just read “Little Women.” You know, the classic novel about a family full of sisters by Louisa May Alcott. So since I was home, and sick, my mother thought it would be good for me to watch the film. So I’m sitting on the beige leather couch, sicker than ever, watching the likes of Winona and Kirsten and Susan etc. and I pause the film so I can go to the bathroom.
I stand up and there’s a large red splotch on the couch and a matching one on the seat of my pants.
Having been prepared for my period to come for months, I quickly ran to the bathroom and dealt with the necessities. I am so thankful that my mother was with me that day or else I may have panicked (being sick). When all was cleaned up we sat back down to finish the film, laughed at the irony of the situation and all was well.
But there’s more… the real kicker. The next day my grandmother was to come over and take care of me. She walked in the door. Took one look at me and said, “Well, now we know you can have children.”
I find my story a bit lighthearted and I’ve heard of and read some pretty awful first times. At the age of twelve, I wasn’t thinking of having children, and I hope that as time progresses the next generation of women will have an easier batch of first times.
That’s all.
submitted by: avesilves