I thought turning 40 would usher in a new era of zen. I would have life figured out and I would finally be comfortable with who I am.
As luck would have it, my body greeted turning 40 by gathering my hormones and sloshing them up and down like a kid with a snow globe. Only, it’s not a pretty serene scene. It’s more of a disaster movie. And not the fun kind of disaster that includes punching sharks that happen to fly through the air randomly.
I can look back at the last several years and guess that this started happening right around the time we moved to TN 4 years ago. I was only 36 at the time. I promise you the thought that I was going through perimenopause didn’t occur to me. In fact, I wondered, several times, if I could possibly be pregnant. That seemed just as unlikely. I wrote it off to the stress of the move. About two years after our move, I decided maybe I should figure out if something was wrong with me. Maybe I was starting menopause? I asked my new doctor and she assured me it was unlikely. I don’t remember that she had any answer for me, at the time. Nothing looked unusual in regard to the blood work.
(This is pretty much how I feel right now. Ha-ha-ha)
But now, I think I’m at the point where there is no denying this. According to Web MD, the average length of this process is 4 years. For some women, it’s a 10-year ordeal. Have mercy. In the last 1 – 2 years, the drop of estrogen speeds up and causes noticeable symptoms. Here is a non-exhaustive list for you:
Hot flashes, fatigue, mood swings and trouble sleeping.
Maybe this means I’m in the last 1-2 years of this. Right? I’m not sure if that should reassure me or make me curl up and cry. I mostly feel old. And bloated. And grumpy. And teary. And sweaty.
You know how emotional and irrational preteen girls are? I am right there with them. You should be praying for my husband. Bless his sweet heart (for you northerners, that means “good luck”). 🙂 🙂