#Pregnant with Ovarian Cysts

[ferticity]

Getting pregnant with ovarian cysts is possible, although it may present challenges. The impact on fertility depends on the cysts' type, size, and location.

[dracolizardlars]

Had the realisation that despite my hatred and fear of medical procedures, specifically the concept of major surgery being horrifying to me (something I have put a lot of thought into due to contemplating whether I want top surgery), if someone offered me a full hysterectomy tomorrow I would take it in a fucking heartbeat. That's how bad my hatred / dysphoria around menstruation and the possibility of pregnancy is. I want that entire organ system gone so much that it overrides my fear of surgery.

[dubaiblogs]

This article will help clarify the relationship of ovarian cysts with pregnancy, the symptoms during pregnancy, and possible risks, including if a cyst can cause a miscarriage. Read More! Can I get pregnant with ovarian cyst?

[ilium-ilia]

calyptra thalictri

simon "ghost" riley x fem!reader | "single mom" au | masterlist

metamorphosis

tw: medical talk, pregnancy, abortion mention, non-con, smut, piv, oral, breeding kink, somno, sedatives

You wonder if Mary of Nazareth felt like this when she was told she would have God’s son. When Gabriel came down to the heavens to give such sour news, was she as scared as you are now, trembling, hardly able to stand on your own two feet? Did she feel as violated as you do? 

Three pairs of parallel lines haunt you from the bin in the bathroom. They stare at you each time you enter to wash your hands or pathetically pray that there is blood to soak your underwear. You were certain the first time was a fluke. A false positive so cruelly given to you simply to see if you would keel over from the heart palpitations it plagues you with. So you take a second one, hopes high but mind reeling. It only rubs salt in the wound. 

By the third test, you sob. Crumbled on the floor, clutching your knees to your chest as if you were a school girl sniffling in the stalls again. Alone—terrifyingly alone and without guidance. 

You spend your night wallowing in bed, unable to sleep. Trembling fingers plug search after search into your online browser, looking for an explanation to your miracle pregnancy. You’re faced with the idea of miscarriages, of ovarian cysts, or possible cancer. Psychosomatic disorders, memory loss after violent sexual assault. 

The pink flesh in your brain splits. Cleaved clean in half, you’re presented with two terrible realizations—that something terrible happened to you—something that your mind purged in order to protect yourself—or you are simply crazy. You are lying to yourself to save face. So you don’t have to admit that you made a stupid choice, and are now suffering the consequences. 

In the morning, you call your gynecologist. The soonest she can get you in is in five weeks. 

Though you try hard not to, you cry on the phone to the receptionist. You babble about how you don’t know what to do, that you need help, that you can’t wait that long. Taking pity on you, she tells you that she’ll add you to the waiting list, and that you’ll be seen as soon as possible when there’s an opening. 

It takes them four weeks to call you to tell you that there’s been a cancellation. Four excruciating long weeks. Each time your friends invite you out to drink, they stare at you with narrowed eyes when you decline with restless hands. Countless nights are spent sleepless, or with Ghost pinning your body beneath his, allowing you no rest in the day or night. You think about abortion. You think about raising a child on your own. You think about wasting away in a cancer center with no one to hold your hand. 

Dropping everything, you rush to the clinic with sweaty palms and greet the receptionist with a smile that screams please do not congratulate me. She gives you two pages of paperwork to fill out, but your hands shake too bad for your writing to be legible. 

It takes them twenty minutes to take you back to the exam room. The clinical assistant asks you questions, but each syllable sounds fuzzy on your eardrums. What are you here for today? When was your last period? Are you taking any medications? What makes you think you’re pregnant? She takes your blood pressure and notes that it’s a little high, and leaves the room to let you sit in silence. 

Another fifteen minutes pass before the clinical assistant returns and says your doctor wants to do an ultrasound. She leads you down the hallway and into a darkened room with an exam table and a woman sitting in front of a machine that whirs enough heat to make the room suffocating. She looks up at you from over her glasses, hands you a gown, then leaves you to undress. When the technician returns, she wastes no time getting to work. 

Her small talk makes your teeth ache. Maw grinding teeth into brittle dust, you answer her questions with short, sharp responses. You are not here to receive the joyous news of a child, or the prospect of becoming a mother—you are simply here to get answers. To look at your options. You grit your teeth throughout the entire scan as the sonographer presses the wand deep into your pelvis. Her eyes look dully at the monitor before her as she taps away at her keyboard; she reveals nothing. No pity for a tumor, nor excitement over a foetus. 

When the scans are done, she lets you clean up before leaving you to sit back in the exam room. The walls are adorned with paintings depicting motherhood and children. Each stroke feels like a punch to the gut as you sit with your hands in your lap. This room is a cell, and you are on death row. The weight of it crunches your shoulders until you’re bent forward—broken. Your trial was held without you present—fate decided long ago. 

Your doctor enters the room with a simple knock. Several papers and sonograms sit in her hands as she takes a seat in the rolling stool next to you. She asks how you are, and though you say you’re fine, you can’t rip your eyes away from the items in her grasp. 

“You’re pregnant.” 

There it is. The killing blow. The lethal injection. You’ve been strung up, noose tight around your throat, and you swing in the breeze to be laughed and gawked at. All the blood in your face drains elsewhere, leaving you dizzy and lightheaded. You place a hand on the counter next to you to steady yourself. 

“You’re about nine weeks along, judging by the scan,” she continues. She finally relinquishes them; sets them next to you so you can view the proof for yourself. There it is, floating inside of you; a clump of cells slowly morphing into something that will soon walk and talk. “Everything looks healthy, and there’s nothing to be concerned with at this time-” 

“This can’t be possible.” Your voice fractures. It slices your throat from the inside out as your fingers extend to touch the terribly tangible proof before you. “I-I can’t be… I haven’t…” 

Taking pity on you, her face melts into something softer—something understanding. “There are many options we can look at. We’ll help you through this.” 

As soon as you get home, you toss the sonograms and every pamphlet your doctor gave you onto the kitchen counter and out of your sight. Cupboards fly open as you fix yourself a cup of tea through the blur of tears pooling in your vision. You have been crying nonstop for the last four weeks that you’re impressed you have anything left to give. 

Your nighttime tea doesn’t taste as good this evening. It scalds your tongue, powdery and bitter, but you chug the whole thing despite the burn. You slam your mug down in the sink and promise yourself that you’ll clean it in the morning after you’ve glued yourself back together. You do not want to think—you do not want to suffer through this right now. Over countless years of failed medications and meditations, this has been the only thing that allows you to sleep through the night. 

Well, as long as Ghost doesn’t visit you. 

And he does—he always does. 

A quarter past ten rolls around, and Simon is unlocking the door to your apartment with the same clandestine care he always does. The key slides into the lock as silent as a moth's wings on the wind, and then opens up with a creak in greeting. He stands in the doorway for a moment, toes inching close to the threshold that bars him from you, and listens. Everything is stilly. Not a single sound reverberates along the walls. 

He finds you in the same place he always does—curled up in bed. Your duvet is tucked under your chin as you keep your arms pressed to your torso as if hugging yourself. Avoiding the creaky spaces in the floor, he creeps to the side of the bed before bending down and rubbing the pads of his fingers over the apples of your cheeks. Each inch of your face is silky on his roughened skin; it’s a sensation he wishes he could capture in a bottle and pour out from time to time so he can savor you. 

Despite his touch, you do not stir.

Leaning forward, Simon presses a kiss against your mouth through the fabric of his mask before getting to work. 

Tonight, he decides to let you stay on your side when he fucks you. The mattress dips beneath his knees as he straddles you, thick thighs caging yours. After working your bottoms down your legs, he presses one of your knees towards your stomach. You are nothing more than a ragdoll beneath his touch. Every whim he has, you obey—as if you ever had a choice. 

Pussy now bare and on display, he rubs a warm palm over your rump before working his thumb over your slit. There is no arousal to aid the entering of his fingers, but he presses forward anyway, collecting any stray slick before rubbing it over your cunt. Once he retrieves his cock from his trousers, he does the same to himself before lining his head up with your entrance. 

His eyes flutter shut the moment he sinks into you. Lips parting, he grunts the moment he bottoms out, then rolls his hips as his cockhead kisses the slick surface of your cervix. Even in your sleep, you pulse around him. Faint, fluttering little kicks as if to draw him in—as if to confirm how much you truly want him. When he pulls out, he watches the way your pussy clings to him, how he comes out glistening even in the dim lighting of your bedroom. 

He never drags this out for long, though he wishes he could. Putting work over pleasure, he begins to rut into you with meaningful thrusts as he keeps ahold of your hips. If he had more time—if you weren’t swimming in sedatives—he would start you off on your back. Legs held to the side, he’d bury his face in your cunt before letting anything prod at your pussy. He’d draw out every whimper he could, and leave you a writhing mess before even letting you set eyes on his cock. 

He would wait until you begged for him, then he’d force you to keep eye contact as he makes you take every inch. Eyes widening, back arching, he would refuse to hold himself back. After all, he’d have to give you what you begged for. Nails scratching, cock pumping, sweat dripping, teeth digging, jaw clenching, mouth parting—reverently, he’d take you and he wouldn’t stop. 

And he won’t stop. 

Not until you give him what he needs. 

When Simon comes, his forehead crashes against your shoulder as the muscles in his taut core begin to shudder. He ensures that he stays sheathed deep inside of you so that nothing goes to waste; that he has the highest chance of success. Once he’s softened inside of you, he pulls out, returns your bottoms to their rightful place, then leaves you tucked into bed without so much as a kiss goodbye. 

Sighing, he rubs at his face through his mask as he wanders back to the exit, body too warm beneath his jumper and jeans to be comfortable. His skin itches. Mites tingle and burrow into his skin with each step he takes. The air feels different in your flat than it usually does—thick with some lachrymose cordolium that whispers from the baseboards. 

He doesn’t understand why that is until something on the counter reflects the dim glow of the stove light into his eye. Detouring into the kitchen, he approaches your counter where he finds a plethora of pamphlets, discharge papers, and sonograms haphazardly bunched into a pile. 

Snatching one of the sonograms, Simon quickly raises it to the light and then freezes. There it is. A tiny, muddled creature in the mix of amniotic fluid. Beneath his mask, he grins as he beholds the very first image of his child—the baby he’s so desperately been wanting from you. Something swells inside of him. Pride; ardor. These last countless months have finally given him the fruit he’d sown long ago.

Enraptured by the picture, Simon almost doesn’t notice one of the pamphlets on the counter as he turns to leave. Still, he catches the title out of the corner of his eye: Abortion - Your Options and Right to Choose. 

His throat constricts. Whatever mirth he held on the tip of his tongue vanishes the moment he sees that. Indignation broils deep in his stomach at the thought of you ever considering doing such a thing to him—to his child. Deciding to choose for you, Simon carefully places the sonogram in the pocket of his jumper before snatching the pamphlet off the counter and marching off through the door. 

Once he’s locked it behind him, he begins to shred the paper to pieces before tossing it in the recycling bin on the corner of the street, leaving it far out of reach.

[eileennatural]

girls who stopped taking their birth control bc they're literally too dumb to remember now experiencing the consequences

[covid-safer-hotties]

Also preserved in our archive

by Lydia Wilkins

“Come back to me when you start wanting children,” my gynecologist said. I had asked about the implications on fertility, thanks to my Poly-Cystic Ovarian Syndrome (PCOS) diagnosis — and was dismissed once again. It enveloped me with such despair.

For over two years I was shunted between varying medical offices, from primary care to an STI clinic. Among many disabling symptoms, I was experiencing hair loss and excessive hair growth along my jawline since my SARS-C0V-2 infection. After developing Long COVID in March 2022, doctors considered me a “medical curiosity” and tested me endlessly, leading to wrong diagnosis after wrong diagnosis. I was prescribed medication after medication, but nothing seemed to help.

Eventually, I added another diagnosis to my chart when I was diagnosed with PCOS by a gynecologist. The hormonal condition is lifelong, presenting with symptoms such as excessive hair, hair loss, fatigue, and irregular periods. The World Health Organization recognizes PCOS as a leading cause of infertility; you are also at risk of other conditions such as diabetes. The gynecologist additionally said there was a possibility that I have endometriosis, in which tissue from the uterus grows in places where it should not be. Endometriosis is recognized for extreme levels of life-impacting pain and is also associated with infertility.

The impact of Long COVID on sexual health is still not fully known, but there are serious signs of sexual and reproductive health being impacted. To be a disabled woman who has to advocate for herself, with the research, in the face of medical indifference is beyond exhausting. At every stage, I have correctly diagnosed myself, while specialists would play “catch-up.”

Why are medical experts and public health officials not sounding the alarm, to warn the public about the impact of Long COVID on fertility?

Like COVID-19 which leaves inflammation in its wake, PCOS is also thought to be an inflammation-related condition. PCOS is primarily a hormonal condition that impacts an estimated one in ten women and may put you at higher risk of severe COVID-19, according to research. PCOS can also make it more difficult to get pregnant, or, like endometriosis, increase complications during pregnancy.

I still have so many questions, such as if there is anything I could do now to mitigate the chronic nature of PCOS. Yet, doctors continually fob off these questions, shrouding me in a patronizing expectation of “having to wait until you start having children,” as if once I am interested in children, I will gain admission to an elite secret club of better care.

The UK campaigning group Long COVID Kids has documented the wider impact of Long COVID on reproductive health — such as changes to menstruation and triggering menopause. The same post also points to a study of the negative impact on ovarian function, along with other triggered conditions such as ovarian cysts.

A Patient-Led Research Collaborative review also found that women with Long Covid had increased rates of reproductive health issues — including, but not limited to, endometriosis, infertility, ovarian cysts, and other conditions. The review also mentioned another condition I am waiting to be tested for, after two years of misdiagnosis — POTS (postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome). Why are these conditions not considered in tandem with each other, to save time and needless testing that causes nothing but distress?

We also know that COVID-19 tends to disrupt menstruation, as well as “fertility potential.” COVID-19 impacts male fertility, too, reducing sperm counts even after mild infections and causing erectile dysfunction. Some people with Long COVID are opting out of having children altogether, because of the strain of delivery and childbearing to the body, or because of the inability to raise or financially support a child.

Before catching COVID-19, I was bouncy, energetic, and socially confident. I had never had any notable health issues; now, my hair falls out in clumps, enough that my hairdresser has adapted to hide the thinning hairline. Excessive hair growth dominates my jawline and eyebrows. There’s also acne, dark spots of skin, and tense bloating warranting “she’s pregnant!” commentary from friends, family, and colleagues. There are few resources on how to cope with such an overwhelming diagnosis and aftermath.

I have been disabled from birth — but attempting to access reproductive healthcare with Long COVID has been a rough learning experience. Thanks to a litany of traumatic experiences when seeking relief from Long COVID, I am now obliged to take a chaperone with me to all medical appointments. Medical professionals speak to my chaperone as if they are the patient — “what can I do to help?”

We are told we have to trust medical professionals — but that trust is a privilege not afforded to disabled people in healthcare settings.

I, in turn, am the “sweetheart” spoken at with “the voice.” Disabled people everywhere know it — slow and childlike, patronizing and loud. I am not afforded dignity or privacy as a result. Other professionals have asked for free disability education instead of discussing my symptoms; it’s an inappropriate presumption, as well as beyond bitterly distressing.

My care was also marked by desexualization, or being reduced to the presumed state of a child. Doctors assumed, “she’s disabled — so she won’t be interested in any of that,” as Lucy Webster documented in her book, The View From Down Here.

Disabled women learn to suppress our anger to achieve any kind of diagnostic result, never “speaking to” the weighted horror. We have dreams, too — but they are tempered by societal commentary, both inside and outside a medical setting. I used to dream of an ordinary life, maybe a life of growing old with a partner, a house, a family in some way. Now, I realize it would be a privilege to not be questioned about these wants or to not be subject to constant commentary.

Women have long been advocating for better reproductive healthcare in the Western world; PCOS has long been misunderstood, with treatment often merely consisting of being told, “just lose weight.” A lack of curiosity has written off reproductive healthcare as only “a woman’s issue” for far too long.

More research on the emerging connection between reproductive health and Long COVID is needed, as is a deliberate culture shift in any caring profession. That can only start with education aimed at ending ingrained stigma. Health is a collective concept — and if we forget that, the pandemic has taught us nothing.

[sparkly-sediment]

Tf2 Mercs Period flow headcanons

Free will strikes again 😈😈

Heavy

The Red terror

Very heavy flow that last 6-7 days. The longest she’s had is 9 days and it took bear meat to recover

The blood is usually dark brown and overall a bit of a delayed flow

Calls it her menstrual cycle only. Heavy isn’t big on midol or pain relief (Russian grit af)

Will always use a warm water bottle tho

Only used scraps of fabric until her 20s. Heavy doesn’t like pads because they feel like diapers and she doesn’t fuck with tampons until she has sex for the first time so she won’t “loose her virginity to stick”

We need more sex education

Ultra tampons for business, free bleed in the period draws for leisure

Sniper

Bush woman

Some hardcore feminist shit. Walk into the woods and menstruate on a stick indigo girls concert transparent

(if you get that i love you)

Sniper normally just free bleeds or like dries out her vagina during bathroom breaks. She smokes weed for cramps and gets bad period diarrhea

Very light, irregular periods. Completely skips some months due to stress and malnutrition (and she looses her appetite on her period!!(

Severe period exhaustion 😮‍💨

Flow is bright red or faint. Might be some blood on the briefs on the first/second morning but then not much happening outside of clots.

Would have fertility issues I feel

Sniper gets anemic on her period and resists taking the supplements Medic recommends. Finally he fights her into taking them and, shocker! She’s not passing out when she stands

Has tasted her period blood clots. Canon I fear

Says on the rag

Demo

MENACE

Demo has a moderate flow but pretty gnarly cramps. The sharp, pulsing kind. Hurts like a bitch!!

Flushes tampons and could give two fucks

She drinks more on her period and has wicked period shits. Possibly the worst asshole cramps in the group, and don’t even get me started on sore nipples

Thick dark red blood. Not hard blood clots but large bloody goops and liquid. Has to shower more often on her period 😔

Super and super plus tampons and the hospital grade pads. Completely unnecessary but Demo gets the biggest most crinkly padding pads of all time!!! Why!!!???!!!

PCOS queen. Thicker body hair, wild anger at times, and cysts!!! When one bursts she finally goes to Medic who immediately gives morphine and some weird blue sludge

Pain was gone but she did wake up with a third kidney

Scout

Type of bitch to get pregnant while pregnant

What a nightmare! PMS like a mother fucker! Scout becomes a snappy little bitch on her period. Terrorizes the base and just crashes out for no reason

If you eat her food so help you God

Really strong cravings and really intense ovulation. Yk how some women really go into heat when they ovulate? Like REALLY lock in? That’s Scout

Fertile and loves chocolate but aggressive

BAWLS ON HER PERIOD and period breakouts

Lighter/moderate flow. More than Sniper but less than Demo

Running really helps her cramps but they usually go to about 5/10 at worst

Her boobs always hurt worse than anything else and she’ll wear a sports bra instead of wrapping them for work

regular tampons and refuses go wear a pad

Medic

I will be using he/him pronouns because period!medic isn’t a gender bend. Medic wanted to feel even closer to his baboons and so he installed the necessary organs to build and birth them

Unwanted and unforeseen side effect 😔

Sturdy but average flow and a very consistent cycle. Bright red with brown spotting towards the end. He keeps a calendar and tracks ovulation

He would have period sex. No question. And, in a sick and wicked manner, would blow them after 😋

horrible to imagine. Anyway, Medic has rougher periods with heavy hormone fluctuations. Intense mood swings, fatigue, and some month deals with painful ovarian cysts

His periods don’t normally have too bad cramps!! He’s just sore in the southern skies and has some lightning sharp stabbing pains in his asshole

Medicates fully and all the way except in the beginning when he monitored the function more closely

Light period acne heavy metalic scent. Feels very tender and hungry

Soldier

Free bleeds and gets blood everywhere

Heavy flow and pretty intense cramps. And, rage. Period rage. Heightened by her pain and immense discomfort and all of her sheets have stains

Dark brown blood and irregular. Can bleed for days and has had 11-12 day periods that completely drain her

Her cramps will leave her bed ridden. If she has to go to battle, there will be NO indication of her pain. She might even be worse to over compensate. But Soldier will run a little slower and land from rocket jumps much more gently

Cries in the locker room and respawn when alone 😭😭😭😭 my shayla

Unless she’s gassed up for battle Soldier is much quieter on his period and sluggish

Eats so much omg decimates that kitchen. The team has to have a meeting because they’ve gone to the store three days in a row, and this is the forth morning everything is gobbled down in the night by a certain greedy little rat

Every time she starts her period she marches into the medbay to LOUDLY announce it. This is the only time she ever mentions the topic of menstruation in relation to herself

Will say fucked up shit tho. Tells Scout blood attracts bears and viciously growls after finding Scout’s tampons

Spy

Eats steak almost nightly when on her period

She refuses to discuss such things with the team and calls it tasteless conversation

INTERNALIZED MISOGYNY and does everything she can to hide her period. Will use kitty perfume to avoid blood smell, tampons only and she hides the wrappers before throwing them out

Heavier flow with low pain. She’ll feel the most discomfort in the cervix area but she doesn’t experience much cramping

Red/brown mix and very spotting days 1-3. Day 3/4-5 is heavy flow and then day six is usually the end

Midol in a Tylenol bottle 😭

She becomes a wicked bitch. Horrifically snappy and will bite your head off. Some period shits. Boobs hurt the week before

Engineer

Her periods are dandy.

Yk how people say periods last 3-5 days? And you’re like, who the fuck is having three day periods?

It’s this gal

Engineer has some mild cramping but it lasts ALL day. From the first flutter of her eyes to the final rest, her uterus is aching

Tight period cramps and a lighter flow. She wears regular and lite tampons for two days and then is good

Bright red and thin blood. Never has big clots and rarely has goopy blood

Her discharge is tinted pink or brown for about a week though so it does balance out

She will smell really strongly of blood like the ripe period embarrassing smell

Working in the workshop when she catches a whiff of the 🩸🐱 but she likes feeling primal and will work into the dank night

Engineer eats all chocolate in the based and will probably eat every cookie too

Period rage that rivals Soldier’s

Pyro

Free bleeds and doesn’t practice good hygiene. She won’t change her clothes- including underwear- any differently despite having blood all up in it

Pyro doesn’t have much liquid blood, but a lot of clotting and clumps of tissue

Because of this and a lack of good hygiene she has a worse smell, and it is noticeable to others. Pyro always smells burnt though so it isn’t exactly traceable

Heavier flow, WOULD use super plus tampons

Pyro has worn pads in the past but she dislikes the diaper feel and she never likes the sensory experience of period products

She’s much sleepier on her period and will curl up to nap. If not in her bed then wherever

[candiiee]

Hi! How are you doing ☺️?

Can I request Bakugo and Iida with a female s/o who gets ovarian cysts?

Thank you have a good day 💜

This is an interesting request- I’ll try my best though :))

Not exactly sure if you wanted separate one shots for both of them, or something else, so I’ll just do 2 one shots for both of ‘em.

Warnings: just swearing in Bakugo’s

——————————

ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴘᴀɪɴꜰᴜʟ (Katsuki Bakugo x female! Reader)

Katsuki headed for your dorm room, in a foul mood. He had got into a fight with some extra who talked shit about him, so he had gotten detention. He opened your door without even knocking, not even caring if you were changing or something. A quick glance around the room, and he saw you on the bed, curled and grumbling in pain.

He frowned, making his way over, worry ever so slightly evident in his eyes. “Y/N. You okay? Or is it just period pain?” You snorted, adjusting yourself to face him. “No. It’s an ovarian cyst.” He slightly flushed, not expecting that answer.

“A what?” You grumbled, “Basically a cyst in my ovaries. Usually ignorable, but hurts like shit every now and then.” You groaned, slamming your pillow on your face. He paused, “Oh. Does it go away? The cyst, I mean.”

You nodded, “Yeah. But I hate it so much.” He paused, “Anything I can do to make it better?”

“Nah. But I’d be happy to accept some cuddles.” He scoffed, but climbed into bed with you. “Mm, fine. If it’ll make you feel better.” You hummed, him the big spoon as you cuddled. Katsuki had originally been hoping for some reassurance from you, but the turns had tabled. He wasn’t gonna argue though.

—————————

ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴘᴀɪɴꜰᴜʟ (Tenya Iida x female! Reader)

Tenya headed for your dorm room, homework in hand. You hadn’t been in class today, and as the class rep and your boyfriend, it was his responsibility to make sure you were kept up to speed. He knocked on the door, making sure you knew it was him. It wouldn’t be very plus ultra of him to walk in on you changing or doing anything not for his eyes.

After hearing your voice allow him access, he opened the door, covering his eyes for extra security. You were in your bed, smiling as he covered his eyes. “I’m decent, Iida.” He slowly uncovered his eyes. “Good. I have your homework.”

He paused, concern in his eyes. “May I ask why you are in bed, and in obvious pain?” You nodded, “Ovarian cysts.” He paused, putting your homework on the side table. “I see. Anything I can do in order to make you feel better?” You shifted in your bed. “Cuddles.” He went red. He had cuddled with you before, but not in your bed. “Cuddles.. are you sure? It is most inappropriate to cuddle in your bed.”

You giggled, “Calm down. I’m not gonna get pregnant cuddling in bed or anything. Come on.” He paused, then hesitatingly approached, climbing into bed. You wrapped your arms around him, as you could tell he was nervous. Finally he relaxed, and cuddled with you.

———————

Done! Sorry it took so long 😅

I’m currently on vacation.

[yrfemmehusband]

Female reproductive health terms you should know!

(terfs not welcome)

Dysmenorrhea: Period pain that isn't normal, i.e. any pain more than Mild cramping.

Dyspareunia: painful intercourse

Oligomenorrhea: lighter, shorter menstrual flow.

Menorrhagia: heavier, longer menstrual flow.

Ovarian cysts: a mass on or in one's ovary, can be resolved on its own, or can remain and cause complications such as a rupture.

Polycystic ovary syndrome: a chronic condition causing cysts to reoccur on the ovaries and enlarging them. Symptoms include:

Irregular periods

hormonal imbalance

facial hair

weight gain

painful periods/ ovulation

infertility

People with PCOS are at higher risk for endometrial cancer, type II diabetes heart problems and high blood pressure.

Endometriosis: A chronic condition in which a tissue similar to, but different than, the endometrial lining grows outside of the uterus instead of inside. During menstruation this tissue sheds and has nowhere to go, thus irritating surrounding organs.

Symptoms include:

Irregular periods

Dysmenorrhea

Widespread pain

Painful ovulation

Vomiting, fainting, chills, sweating, fever and brain fog during menstruation

Infertility

Severe bloating

This also puts people at a higher risk for endometrial and ovarian cancer. There are four stages to Endo as it is a progressive disease, with 3/4 being more severe. The average time it takes to be diagnosed is 7 years.

Adenomyosis: A chronic disease similar and comorbid to endometriosis in which a tissue similar to the endometrial lining grows inside of the uterine wall. Symptoms are nearly identical to endometriosis but more difficult to detect.

Many people are diagnosed post menopause, by fault of the medical system, but it can and does develop much before then.

Ovarian cancer: cancer of the ovary(ies).

Endometrial cancer: cancer of the endometrium, the inner lining of the uterus.

Endometrial cyst, or chocolate cyst: cystic lesions from endometriosis.

Tilted uterus: the uterus is positioned pointing towards the back or severely to the front of the pelvis instead of a slight tilt towards at the cervix. Can cause painful sex and periods.

Pelvic floor dysfunction: inability to control your pelvic muscles. Comorbid with many things and is highly comorbid with endometriosis. Can cause pain and incontinence.

Vulvodynia: chronic and unexplained pain at the opening of the vagina.

Interstitial cystitis: a chronic condition where cysts form on the inside of the bladder and urinary tract and cause symptoms similar to that of a UTI.

Pre-eclampsia: a condition occurring in pregnancy where the blood supply between the fetus and the pregnant person is affected and can cause irregular blood pressure, swelling, and in more severe cases headache, nausea and vomiting, a burning sensation behind the sternum, shortness of breath and potentially death if untreated.

Endometritis: an infection or irritation of the uterine lining. Is not the same as endometriosis and is treatable but can cause pain, bleeding, swelling, general discomfort and fever, and more.

Pelvic inflammatory disease: an infection of the reproductive organs

Ectopic pregnancy: a pregnancy that is attached to the outside of the uterus. Can be fatal if left untreated.

There are many more I could probably add but if you see something missing, please add it!

[alex51324]

A sensitive topic, but useful information

If you have a uterus, etc., and are dysphoric enough about it that you don't go to the gyno, here's a thing I learned this week that may come in handy one day, if you start having pain or other symptoms from that department:

There's a way you can at least get started on having all those organs checked out, without taking your pants off.

It's called a transabdominal pelvic ultrasound--you lay down, fully clothed, and just pull up your shirt as far as your ribcage, and undo your fly and push your trousers/underwear down to your hipbones. (And if you still feel too exposed, you can get a drape for the parts of your abdomen they aren't working on at any given moment.)

The technician goes over you with the little wand-thing (like you see on TV when pregnant people are getting a scan of the fetus); it takes a while, but it doesn't feel like much of anything.

Note: It's common, if you possess the relevant anatomy, for them to do what's called a transvaginal pelvic ultrasound along with the transabdominal one--that does indeed involve taking your pants off (and worse). It gives a better view of the ovaries, apparently, and it can be more convenient for them to go ahead and do that at the same appointment. But both my doctor and the technician who did the test were completely understanding and familiar with the concept that someone might not be up for that. All I had to do was hint to my doctor that I wasn't comfortable with the internal, and she said that was fine, we'd just do the transabdominal scan, and if that didn't provide enough information we'd talk about options based on whatever the findings were.

(The person at the central scheduling hotline, on the other hand, was kind of confused and kept trying to schedule me for the other thing, but honestly, I got the impression she was either very new to the job or just not the sharpest crayon in the box, bless her heart. Once I got in the room with the technician, she immediately grasped the situation and everything was fine.)

So it was all very easy and nontraumatic, and I probably should have had it done ages ago*. If you possess those organs, and are having pain or other symptoms in them that you've been hesitating to bring up** to a doctor because you're not comfortable having an internal exam, there are options available--hopefully your doctor will suggest it right off the bat, like mine did, but if not you can ask for it by name: transabdominal pelvic ultrasound.

(*I've got ovarian cysts, which is common and usually not a big deal, but if I'm reading the report correctly, mine are really quite surprisingly large. I haven't actually talked to the doctor about the results yet; with the holiday weekend it'll probably be Tuesday before I hear back.)

(**I didn't bring up the subject; the doctor felt something when she was palpating my abdomen during a routine physical, because of how fucking huge this cyst is. I should have brought it up.)

[battytoast]

nearly 3 weeks late on my period and I'm 100% sure I'm not pregnant (virgin 💔) and it's probably an ovarian cyst like bitch just pop already GRAH

[theoverstimulated]

Went to the dentist this morning for my first appointment since my favorite dentist & favorite hygienist both left the clinic. Brianna (who told me she's currently not yet licensed so can only do certain tasks) scanned my mouth for a new night guard. She was slamming the machine against my teeth and couldn't get it to work in one spot so had to ask another person for help. Just started filling in at my clinic. Then, Stephanie was my hygienist. She sings along to the music while she manually cleaned my teeth with the metal scraper (instead of the gentle water scaler Jean used to use). Said she preferred to "feel it" as she cleans. Stephanie is currently pregnant. Due in October. She has a bunch of the same health issues as me (fibro, ovarian cysts, kidney stones) and would be using Lyrica & cannabis for her fibro but had to ween off cuz of the baby. She talked nonstop. The new dentist, Dr Regenold came in unmasked. Stephanie gave her one to put on as like a hint, and she just held it for awhile before then putting it on. Asked me if she should be masked for me, and I said something like, "my precautions have kept me safe so far, so I'm trying to maintain them." I thanked Stephanie for handing the dentist the mask & she said she respected me for my precautions "especially because of your fibro." Stephanie had covid 3 or 4 times. The dentist said my teeth look good, but there's a "bubble" in the gums above the bridge in the front of my mouth, so I have a referral to see an endodontist as that might be a sign of reinfection. I'm very scared about it and can't look up what that means if it is. Dentist said something about going into my gums to scrape it out. I had an xray there today, and it didn't show infection, but she wants me to have my follow-up just to be safe. They also talked me into a $68 fluoride treatment that's "like rainx for your teeth" and will keep them extra protected for 6 months. I have to go back in 2 weeks to pick up my night guard which will be a hard kind (not soft like I have now) cuz that's what this dentist prefers. I'm just happy it's a bottom one, and they didn't force me to get a top one (like another dentist in the past). I've been crying since I left. I'm very emotionally dysregulated at the idea my bridge might need more work or have to be redone, so I'm gonna be feeling unstable for awhile.

[morcellement]

Trigger warning: rare medical conditions/complications (OB/Gyn)

When I started to work after graduation I did 9 months of surgery. After that I started OB/Gyn. In both professions people where joking about the ‚rule of three‘. If there is a case of acute appendicitis there will be two more cases soon. And after that weeks without a case. Same with ectopic pregnancies, emergency cesarean sections, big ovarian cysts and other stuff. Even if it’s mostly an inside joke, there is a grain of truth (at least it feels like it). And working in private medical practice I feel like it in that setting happens too. The cases of people wanting an abortion, vaginal infections or women with irregular cycles seem to accumulate at certain times.

But I feel like I‘m experiencing the next level…

Last year we had lots of pregnancies of women in their 40ies (most of them unplanned; oldest one was 49 when she gave birth). And this year I feel like the theme is ‚once in a lifetime occurrences‘. This far I already saw:

- a case of Utrosct (a very rare, sometimes malignant tumor of the uterus) - had to ask AI about that and it stated that there where 511 cases worldwide up till November 2023.

- a a case of granulosa cell tumor of the ovaries - 1-2% of all malignant ovarian tumors (which are not that common themselves)

- a 30 year old women with breast cancer - less then 1% of all women with breastcancer are that young when diagnosed

- a women that got pregnant from a man who had an vasectomy years ago. The urologist confirmed that the ducts rejoined - 0,03-1,2% chance

- a pregnancy that implanted in the scar of the cesarean section - 0,05% of all pregnancies

- a fetus that developed a big cyst in the abdomen in just 2 weeks time - 0,1% of fetuses have such a condition

The last two cases where yesterday and today. I‘m very worried about both. Hope tomorrow (last day before my two week break) won’t hold such crazy stuff!

[faith-avenue]

Pregnant or not, pray over your womb. Pray against cysts, fibroids, ovarian cancer, etc.

[thudworm]

I swear to fuck, if the fertility clinic messes up my prescription for another month I'll lose my goddamn shit.

context under the cut just so I can get it off my chest

I have been trying, and failing, to get pregnant since 2017.

In 2018 I asked the doctor to send me for tests for PCOS, because in addition to the not getting pregnant I had a bunch of other symptoms that indicated something wasn't right with my reproductive system. He was reluctant, said he doubted I had it but would do the referal if I really wanted it. Results said I apparently didn't, but he gave zero shits about investigating things further. Told me to try losing weight about it and to come back in a year if I still wasn't pregnant, because only *then* would he consider doing his damn job.

I didn't go back in 2019, because it was the end-of-year busy season at my supermarket job, and I figured it would be easier to schedule appointments around my roster when things calmed down in the new year.

AKA 2020.

Obviously that derailed plans majorly, and even after things went back to """"normal"""" I put off going back because medical misogyny was just something I was not capable of dealing with at that point. Until the horrendous PMS symptoms overrode everything else *and* a specialist women's clinic was available, so I could hope to be taken seriously. And I was- that doctor was great about actually listening to me. Lo and behold, I do have PCOS!

The fertility meds I've been on have been, quite frankly, miraculous in terms of managing the PMS symptoms, even though they haven't achieved their goal of getting me pregnant. Except they can't do that when I can't take them because of clinic fuckery.

Last cycle, without meds, I had a solid month of PMS. And when it comes to PMS symptoms, you name it I get it. Digestive disturbance more severe than some bouts of gastro (norovirus).Bloating, cramps, joint pain, back pain, breast tenderness, headaches/migraines. Mood swings. Vivid, often disturbing, dreams. Food cravings that are stronger than the lack of appetite my other meds cause, which is really saying something.

This cycle, still without meds, I had menstrual bleeding that lasted 16 days. I'm not interested in finding out what the next fun surprise my body will throw at me if I don't get the meds again. Probably an ovarian cyst, because I suspect I've had one previously that was never diagnosed, and it seems like it might be making a comeback.

[jessilynallendilla]

The Most Popular Girls in School Quotes Without Context Season 1

“I want to poop here. Whenever I want, for as long as I want.” 

“I’ll be watching you.” “I’m going to poop now.” 

“Have fun smelling my poops, bitches!” 

“Was it slutty of me to give you a hand job last night?"

“Hey, if I watch an episode of Glee and an episode of Gossip Girl, can I get a blow job instead?” 

“God, I want to fucking murder you.” 

“What the fuck is a growler?”  

“Well then, I’ll gladly tell all the student bodies of Wichita State, Kansas and San Diego State, that you eat dick burritos.” 

“Suck my dick!” “Ok.” “What!?-” “Drop trou, I’ll suck your dick right now!” “Dude, that was an expression! Right? Am I right? That’s an expression, right guys?” 

“I’ll suck all your dicks right now!” 

“I’m a real man! I’m not afraid!” 

“Yeah, he’s definitely gay.” “He’s gay.” “We had an assembly about it.” 

“One last question...how come Matthew Daringer doesn’t have a penis or testicles?” 

“Jesus Christ, is that a fucking Gremlin?” “No, I’m a third grader.” 

“Rea-really? We talked, you pooped, I thought we had a connection.” 

“Wait, wait a minute, you lost control of the girl’s bathrooms?! Where the fuck am I supposed to shit now?” “Oh, you can go to the Jack in the Box across the street.” 

“We’ll I’m twenty-seven and still living with my parents in Overland Park. I have an art history degree from night school. My cat just died. I’ve lost 25% control of my sphincter muscles. I get a clicking sound in my jaw when I eat. I drive a ‘91 Dodge Neon. I have ovarian cysts. Sometimes I pee the bed still. I have alopecia. The only man who wants to fuck me is my 48-year-old manager at Pizza Street. PS, he only has one ball. So, I guess, better than you.”  

“No! Girls! On HBO! Kind of like Gossip Girl, but more tits.” 

“She said this is easier, you know, she said she just gets really emotional when she’s pregnant. And drunk.” 

“My mom said it’s about time people start feeling sorry for me.” 

“I won your card fair and square, so hand it ower before I bitch swap the bwack out of you.” 

*hit with a Hackey-Sack* “Aaah! Son of a bitch! Bastard! Aaah! God! Why me? Why me? Why? Does God hate me? Oh Jesus Christ!” 

“Oh my God I feel like I’m having an abortion!” 

“Mikayla, I’m six feet tall and weigh 105 pounds. I think I know how to mix x-lax into a fucking drink, ok?” 

“Mommy, what did you used to drink when you were a cheerleader?” “Squeez-its and Zima, why?” 

“Fuck it right it in the ass.” “No lube!” “Fisting!” “With a big black dildo!” The biggest!” 

“And don’t get me started on Pakistan. Ahmedinijad, am I right?” 

*principle making announcements* “And now, the moment you’ve all been waiting for, I know I’m excited, my nipples are hard.” 

“’Oh yes! Oh, fuck yes! Who else is wet in here?” 

“I’m sorry, was I not just in the middle of a story?” “Yeah, but I wasn’t really that interested in it.”  

“Do you like making me look like a dickhole? Do you?” “You want me to say no, right?” 

“She may be a dirty fucking slut but at least she’s ours.” 

“Deandra, you’re a member of this family, you poop with us!” “Uh no. Deandra, you’re a cheerleader. You shit with us!”  

*waving amputated arms* “These are a little girl’s arms!” 

“How could you do this to us? You literally bombed us. Like the Japanese you are.” 

“Oh my, somebody’s going to be walking very funny tomorrow morning.” 

“The babies you make tonight are going to be so stupid.” 

“I swear, if I was into ladies, I’d be elbow deep in you right now.” “Hello.” 

“I’m being paid fifty dollars to stand here. Not talk to Rick Taylor’s bottom. Go away now.” 

“You look like a tampon that was dipped in skittles and vomit.” “Thank you.” 

“I get to run a hundred meters in the Special Olympics, I lost like twenty-seven pounds-” “Oh my god! What is your secret?” “...I had my arms ripped off.” 

“Well, I gave every boy in the school a blowjay!” 

"Um, Tanner, aren’t you gay?” "That’s a woman!?”