Let's talk about a subject I was determined to do differently than my mother. When it came time to talk about the facts of life, my parents assumed I had been told by "someone".  When it came time to discuss menstruation, my mother definitely assumed I learned it all in my fifth grade "girls night."  I believe it was easier for her to live in that fantasy world than actually bring up the subject with me. 

So, on my special day she handed me one of those palm-sized Hallmark calendars and told me that I should circle the day I get "it" and then circle the day "it" leaves. Oh, I was also congratulated for getting "it," in front of my whole family because I gave my Dad his best birthday present ever. 

Now, isn't that what all young girls want to hear and have their siblings over hear? That you got your period on Daddy's birthday -- hooray for you! 

Flash forward to my daughter's birth. Some time in the first year of her life, I knew that when it came time to explain menstruation to her, I wanted to slowly work up to the information. I wanted to keep the lines of communication open and all those other things my generation was going to do when we raised our children. I did not want to just pat her on the shoulder and say, "Sweetie Pie, there's something I want to talk about with you." 

Being a Mothers Center member helped greatly in my communications skills.  I slowly oriented Alisha to the world of menstruation. Although she was not thrilled at the idea of bleeding five days a month, she had a pretty good idea of what to expect. Alisha was also very comfortable with the Mothers’ Center, having joined me for a few conferences. Being in a "group" together was comfortable for both of us. 

So, when the National Association of Mothers’ Centers announced its first Mother/Daughter weekend, I jumped at the chance to participate. Alisha did not hesitate either. Although I had no clue about the content, I just "knew" it was going to be a great experience for us both. 

Interestingly, one of the conference workshops involved moms discussing menstruation with other moms. The two facilitators showed us fun and informative books on the topic, and we shared the ways in which we were "informed" about our periods when we were young. 

Some of the stories group members shared were sad, others were funny, and unfortunately, most had a lot in common. Many women were never informed.  Period.  One woman told a story that struck a funny bone. She had several daughters and her approach was this: inform the firstborn daughter, and then leave it to her to teach the next child, who in turn teaches the next one, and so on. 

The system worked so well, the woman said it was a long time before she actually found out that one of her daughters had begun to menstruate. Her "each one, teach one" philosophy worked well in her household.  Did she mind missing that special moment? Not really. As long as each one was informed, she did not mind. 

Not me. 

Actually, I was afraid of Alisha either getting her period while she visited her grandmother in Florida, or while she was away at summer camp. It was a very emotional issue for me, though I never mentioned it directly. 

What if she freaked out? What if she had questions that I had not answered? What if she did not use the pads properly? On the other hand, what if she wanted to celebrate her maturing self?  I wanted to be there. I wanted to be there in the same way I wanted to be there when she rolled over for the first time, got her first tooth, said her first words, took her first steps, and hopped aboard that kindergarten bus and waved goodbye to me. 

Back to the NAMC Mother Daughter Conference. I learned a lot and it was helpful to talk about my feelings. Later that night, when all the activities were over, I decided to drive home and sleep in my own bed, rather than in the hotel in which the conference was being held. I planned to drive the 20 minutes back to the workshop first thing the next morning.  Alisha opted to stay in the hotel with the other girls attending the conference. 

Early the following morning, my phone rang. Sure as I woke up that morning breathing, my sweet baby began her period. Just a few short hours after I'd left, too. How could I not have known?  My intuition that I pride myself on, was obviously lost or on vacation. 

By the time I arrived at the conference center, wonderful, magical and mystical things were happening. I was greeted outside by several girls who were bubbling with excitement over the early morning doings. The girls were busy roaming the grounds collecting rocks and branches. Something having to do with Alisha, they confided. 

When I saw her for the first time, I hugged her and worked hard to fight back my tears. The strength in her body was temporarily sapped as she sank into my arms.  After a few tender moments and words with each other, Alisha began to explain how her extended family had helped with her initial flow.  None of the young girls had pads, so they borrowed a large-sized pad from one of the adult women. Alisha motioned to me that the pad went from "here all the way to there." Her hands began at her pubic bone and swept halfway up her buttocks.  A bit of an exaggeration, I'm sure, but I got the picture. 

The previous night, one of the girls had helped her in the bathroom. When she came out, fresh and changed, the girls began to share their stories. In a warm, dorm-like atmosphere at 1 a.m., Alisha heard their experiences. Where and who they were with when they got their first periods. I like to think of it as the puberty version of "The Big Chill." 

The whole experience softened the embarrassment she was feeling.  Much later, Alisha told me how helpful this community of young women was in bringing a sense of normalcy to the monthly cycles. This was simply a part of the normal rhythm of life, one that needn't be hidden behind closed doors. 

Later that day, as the conference was winding down, and we were saying our good byes, the girls enacted a special ceremony for Alisha. I do not remember exactly what they said. The girls had found a very pretty, head-sized stone, and signed their names on it, complete with personal messages of good luck and congratulations on it. 

They had gathered branches and wished her well on her way to womanhood. As a result of this whole experience, Alisha speaks freely about her periods.  She has never referred to it in the derogatory terms I grew up hearing.  She never has a "visitor," nor does her "friend" come over. "Aunt Susan" does not make house calls. 

The beauty of this whole experience is that we have wonderful memories of her first period.  They are a far cry from anything I had planned on, hoped for or dreamed about.  It has always been difficult for me to let go of my dreams, so there is a tad bit of sorrow that things did not turn out exactly the way "the mother" in me had fantasized. Once I move myself out of that box, though, I must say, I could not have dreamed of a scenario as beautiful and loving and warm and tender as the experience Alisha had. 

Lori J. Isenstadt is a certified childbirth educator and a childbirth assistant, who is also studying to be a midwife.  Although she grew up on Long Island, living in Massapequa and in Hauppauge, she and her family have made their home in Perora, Arizona since 1998.  Lori and her husband Alan are the parents of:  Alisha, 16, Jesse, 14 and Carly, 11.  She began her 13-year Mothers Center experience in Stonybrook, later “moving” to the Merrick/Bellmore Center.    Lori welcomes your comments:  email: feedback@liwomen.com  
Attention: Lori