When Menopause and Mothering Collide

Eight months before Meredith’s 18^th birthday, I celebrated my 50^th birthday. My daughter and I were each marking milestones that came with a lot of weight (actual and figurative). If I was in disbelief that my baby was now 18, I was in more shock that the reflection that stared back at me in the mirror was now beyond middle age and older than the age my parents were when I first realized they were old.

What I hadn’t prepared for was the tsunami of peri menopausal symptoms that hijacked my well-being and sanity and that progressively got worse by the time my life span reached five decades. For the latter part of my 40’s I was under the impression that I was sailing through peri menopause and wasn’t doing too badly compared to some of the horror stories I had heard about. Then, like a switch, my estrogen and progesterone took a deep dive and I found myself in a hole that was dry, hot and miserable with no way of escaping. My sleep started to be affected followed by my mood and then a sense of despair set in that had me twitching whenever my husband spoke or breathed and had me fantasizing about a road trip to the nearest border never to be seen again. The lack of proper sleep was alarming considering I have always been a great sleeper and can sleep anywhere; a superpower that I have come to cherish. I love my husband deeply and yet, I was so irritated by everything that I feared I would unintentionally cause irreparable damage to our relationship.

I was in denial for a while as I couldn’t believe I was suddenly and intensely falling apart at the seams. I had taken such good care of myself to survive these last 18 years that I was not prepared for the transition to menopause. And let’s be honest, “transition” is a sugar coated, PG13 version of the actual dismantling of everything that you once were to become the new and improved version of yourself. Think of what a caterpillar goes through to become a butterfly. It isn’t just sleeping inside the chrysalis and magically turning into this next version of itself. No, no, before the metamorphisis into a butterfly, it essentially digests itself, dissolving the muscle and tissues with its own enzymes into a black goo; a caterpillar soup. And then, it uses specialized cells to build the parts of a butterfly including an entire nervous system reorganization. Our brains are undergoing a rewiring while every system in our body gets impacted. It is astonishing that we are not only expected to function but are able to function, albeit barely, while all of this is going on.

At the height of it all, I was working in a hospice managing the grief and bereavement program and caring for people who were dying, facing the death of their loved one or in the throes of bereavement. I needed to get my shit together and fast. I consulted a Naturopathic Doctor who specialized in Menopause. I started menopause hormone therapy (MRT) in the form of bio identical creams and although it seemed to help at first, symptoms were increasing again and I was becoming unbearable to myself. When I reviewed the checklist of the 36 most common symptoms, I had 33 of them. Many seemingly unrelated symptoms were connected to the hormone drought that my body was trying to survive. I was also ill-prepared for the impact of the intricate rewiring of my brain that occurs in menopause. Every meme and joke that made light of the profound and somewhat devastating impact of perimenopause only added to my internal, ever burning rage.

I anxiously counted down the months to that one blessed day known as Menopause; the day that marks one full year without menses. I was hopeful that once it arrived and I moved into my Post Menopause days that I would be better balanced. For me that magical day was August 9^th 2023. It coincided with my older sister’s Menopause Day and so we celebrated with a ceremony. I can’t help myself. Big moments in life require meaningful ritual and so I constructed a Viking ship out of a cardboard cracker box complete with a flag adorned with the symbol of a uterus and fallopian tubes giving the finger. I lit a tampon on fire, placed it on the cardboard boat and released it into a river as a symbolic Viking funeral for the death of our periods. We reflected on our first periods, on the gift of our healthy bodies and the ability to grow and birth babies. We celebrated this milestone that marked the end of our fertility and acted as a gateway to our wise years.

To say I was disappointed and deeply frustrated by the continuation of symptoms would underemphasize the reality. As I approached my 53^rd birthday, my ability to mother Meredith was colliding with my inability to function at the capacity I needed to be at to fulfill my responsibilities. I didn’t like the feelings of complacency when it came to caring for my girl. There was a sense of indifference when it came to mothering and my marriage and to a lot of things that once brought me joy. I just didn’t care anymore and that terrified me.

And so I did what I have always done, I started searching for a solution which included research and gaining a better understanding as to what was happening to me and how I could pull myself out of the hole I had slipped into. An important part to this was including Tim in the discussion so that he had a firmer grasp of the enormous undertaking that occurs when women are in perimenopause. We listened to one podcast on the reality of Menopause that featured a prominent OB/GYN as we drove to our destination for a weekend getaway. I wept as I listened to the statistics of job loss, depression, suicide and divorce in perimenopausal women. Tim was blindsided by the data and although he had been understanding all along, his empathy grew exponentially that day.

As I continued to apply estrogen and progesterone cream into my body daily, I noticed that I wasn’t really feeling better. I consulted with a new Naturopath who prescribed an estrogen patch and oral progesterone after my bloodwork indicated just trace amounts of estrogen and low levels of progesterone. Even though I religiously applied this hormonal concoction, my body was not absorbing it. I ditched the creams and started a new route of administration and within a month, I started to feel better. Before long I felt like I did in my 30’s in that I had energy again, I was sleeping well and my mood had stabilized. I no longer felt like an atrophied shell of myself.

I don’t think we talk about it enough. Certainly, we live in a time where every second reel and sponsored ad on social media has to do with menopause if your algorithm catches wind that you are in your 40’s and 50’s and navigating this hormonal decline. There isn’t a shortage of podcasts, TedTalks and “experts” writing books about it however, there is very little information on the impact this stage in a woman’s life has on her ability to keep up with roles fueled by estrogen. For many women, childbearing is delayed and so midlife hits when we are caring for young children and also having to support aging parents. The difference for those of us in these extreme caregiving roles is that our children are not going to grow into their next developmental milestone. It isn’t temporary.

What may appear as stress, clinical depression or burnout, may be the hormonal hurricane making landfall in your body. This is the time to put the same energy and drive into learning about your body and mind and how you can get to the other side intact that you have put into caring for your child. It is crucial that your partner understands what is actually happening so that they can pick up the slack and support you. If you are without a partner, call on your village to help you as you navigate this treacherous unfolding of YOU 2.0.

Comment below on how the collision of mothering and menopause have impacted you or someone you love……………