Yesterday, a friend called to ask if I wanted to have coffee that afternoon. I said sure, I would love to meet her in two hours. Then, opening my pink phone, I added in the meet-up – Coffee. Christen. 3:30, and set the reminder for 30 minutes before and 15 minutes before. Just to be sure, I added a bit more assurance of arriving on time… a Post-it Note on my steering wheel.
Sigh…giving birth seemed to have unraveled half of my brain, now menopause was going to finish it off!
When my menopause was official, I called a friend to come celebrate with me. But my blissful celebration was short-lived. Soon I discovered estrogen and memory had become good friends; (giving birth seemed to have unraveled half of my brain, now menopause was going to finish it off! Tweet)
So… I write lists… to remember… Lots and lots of lists. There is a list for the grocery store, and a list of things to accomplish for the day, a list of phone calls to make, a list of writing ideas, a list of what I have already purchased for family members for Christmas, and a list of items I have purchased and need to purchase to make jewelry. There are also sticky notes on my desk, refrigerator and the steering wheel of my car. I write everything down on paper and on my calendar. My house is accessorized with different colored post-it notes because estrogen has abandoned me!
Menopause is one of those topics we do not talk about much. It always has associations with death and dying. We are not producing life; therefore, we must be dying.
For me, there was a sadness that came over me when I realized I was no long able to bring forth new life. Not that I had planned to have any more children, but knowing my body no long had the choice gave me cause to grieve.
In my younger years there was a joy in knowing I could carry and birth new life. I was not aware of how much I cherished the gift of populating the earth with children until it was gone. There is a time of mourning for many women at the retirement of our ovaries. Each time I would count off twenty-eight days I thought how great it would be to never again need to pack little white tubes wrapped in pink plastic discretely in my purse.
No more praying for God to hold back the red sea while I ran to the closest restroom, like Superman in the phone booth, for a quick change.
I once heard a monthly flow called, “my friend” because it indicated an absence of an unplanned pregnancy. I don’t really miss “my friend”. I miss the benefits of recalling facts as quickly as I once did. The information is in my mind; it simply takes a little longer to find it these days.
So I’m learning to embrace this change of life with joy and grace. I’m learning to compensate for the slow memory and adjust to a constantly changing life, and I’m starting with Post-it Notes.
“It may be hard for an egg to turn into a bird; it would be a jolly sight harder for it to learn to fly while remaining an egg. You cannot go on indefinitely being just an ordinary, decent egg. We must be hatched or go bad.” -C. S. Lewis
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I love this, Diane. It truly resonates with me.
You and I are Post-it sisters! Love you Mary!
Hormones play a crazy roll in our lives. thank you for sharing your story so we never feel alone.
That is the whole point in talking about this, Teresa! Thank you for stopping by, friend. <3