As I stare 44 in the face, my body is screaming at me that fertility is a thing of the past. Not that this is a bad thing. I have no children, nor have I ever really wanted any. I have gotten a fleeting feeling when holding the little darlings belonging to my friends. Nothing that would cause me to look into my husbands (from here on out he is the Rock Star by the way.) eyes and then watch him faint because I have decided to break a silent agreement we have had our entire marriage.
Although It might be fun to watch if I did.
But I digress.
Around 40 my shark week (apparently the shape of a sharks brain and the shape of a uterus is the same.) went from 28 to 21 days. It also went from 4-5 days to 3-4 days. Then I started getting these lovely wiry hairs on my chin. Oh, and lets not forget that the vj started getting dry. Yeah, I’m having a real party these days. Rock Star is living with an ever evolving species, of what we just haven’t figured out yet. We are going to go with human…for the moment.
Now, shark week is acting up again. I flooded, which for those not acquainted with this phenomenon is when you uh..gush. Yeah, feels like you peed yourself, looks like you committed Hari Kari. With a tampon. Then about 3 week later I start spotting. Which is sort of the opposite of flooding.
I became terrified. I am one of those Americans that some Republicans would see die. We fall into that category of both having jobs but only one of us has insurance. And it’s not me. I work in a florist with only 4 employees. He works in a large company but it would still cost us more then we can spend to both be covered. So, of course I am picturing any manner of tragedy befalling us.
I don’t say anything for a few days. Because you know, if you don’t talk about it, it will go away. Maybe. Then my addled mind realized something. I asked Rock Star how long since I had my last period. (I had to ask him because I have trouble keeping up with these things. I usually walk into the room and announce that I am not pregnant. He always remembers that.) He replied it had been about 3 weeks. Yep, this was not some uterus rotting disease. This was what is called erratic periods. The spotting stopped about the time shark week would have.
That was 10 days ago. Yesterday I started flooding again. Yea! I have spoken to other women who have gone through menopause and they describe pretty much same thing. Yes, I have made an appointment to go have things checked out just in case. So yeah, another nail in the coffin of my fertility.
This here is what you call peri-menopause. Actual menopause could still be 10 years away. Menopause is when you haven’t had a period in 12 months. I don’t think I am going to be one of those women who feel less feminine because I don’t have a period anymore. There is a phenomenon among nuns when they go through menopause. They become depressed, because even though they never were going to have children, the possibility was there, and when that disappears, they mourn it.
I have never wanted kids, so my femininity has never been tied to the miracle of birth. Supposedly we carry the power that men secretly covet. The power of life. Yeah, okay. Whatever. My period has never made me feel powerful. Never made me feel womanly. I suppose it has given me peace of mind. Peace of mind that I am not pregnant. Peace of mind that everything is okay and in working order.
Perhaps I will miss it. Maybe I will surprise myself and mourn.
God, sometimes I can be such a girl.