I don’t know which sitcom it was I watched once when I was living in New York, but the woman in it said something that I can never forget: she said, that in a month she was either pre-menstrual, menstrual or post-menstrual and had just about one normal day in a month! I could say the same right now.
See, I was getting very good with the spot-jogging and all that, till, yes, till I got the blues and blues in the winter are bluer than blue, so I went from I-am-going-to-be Cindy-Crawford kind of feeling to I-want-to-eat-all-the-chocolate-in-the-world-who-am-I-kidding-with-the-Cindy-
I crave sweets when I get my period, no wait, I crave sweets, before and after too. And the spot-jogging kind of stops too. So, you’re back to ignoring the weighing scale like it’s some monster in your bathroom, daring you to stand on it. Sigh.
You know what else I read the other day? that in some women, the pre-menopause stress starts twenty years in advance! Ok, so that was good to know. In short, if you’re looking forward to menopause, you may well be insane by the time you get there.
So, my bone to pick with God would be this (when I meet him/her): Surely there was another way to do all this baby stuff?? I mean look at it: you brood, you bleed, you ache, you feel unexplained depression, then you have a baby and it tears your vagina apart, (I didn’t take an epidural by the way, don’t ask me why) then you finally, after years of turmoil, get to menopause, but, wait, it ain’t over, because now start the hot flashes and God knows what else. By the time it’s all over, you’re sixty.
Again, surely there was another way!