Updated: July 31, 2016
Originally Published: Feb. 23, 2005
As I step into my 49th year, I find myself grappling with both the little and the big challenges of life—sometimes it feels like I’m just sweating it all out.
The first surge of this experience hit me during a business trip to California with my husband a few years back. “This is odd,” I remarked while gazing at the hotel sunset. “I think I’m coming down with something, but I don’t feel sick. Maybe my body will shake it off.” But it wasn’t a cold or virus; it was something more profound—menopause.
This transition is something I always associated with “older” women, something I believed would be far in my future. But here it is, and at 49, I don’t feel remotely old enough to face this change. Suddenly, I’m inundated with hot flashes, as persistent as the waves crashing against the Californian shores. Each one compels me to pause, breathe deeply, and suppress the urge to shed layers, drawing curious glances from my younger colleagues and sympathetic nods from those who have been through it.
Who came up with the term “menopause”? It hardly feels like a pause; it feels like an end—an end to those cyclical experiences I’ve known since I was 13, save for a few years during pregnancy and breastfeeding. It signifies the conclusion of my estrogen dependence. Years ago, I kicked my smoking habit, which was tough, but nicotine seems trivial compared to the hold estrogen has on me. I could easily portray a drug addict in a film with my sweating and shaking.
It also marks the end of my once-reliable metabolism, the days when I knew exactly how to manage my weight. Gone are the simple solutions; it’s a different ballgame now.
Yet, this chapter isn’t all about loss. Menopause heralds a new beginning. It introduces surprises like unexpected facial hair, insomnia, and mood swings—wonderful additions to my life experience that I hadn’t anticipated. I find myself hopeful that some things remain consistent, like my love for scarves and clothing that allows for easy layering.
Recently, while shopping for breathable clothes that accommodate my new reality, I was approached by a charming young woman selling Dead Sea salts. As she gently exfoliated my hand, she asked my age. “Forty-nine,” I replied. With a thick accent, she exclaimed, “You look great!” I felt a blush rise, triggering yet another hot flash. I wanted to inquire, “What will I look like when I’m no longer drenched in sweat?” But I simply thanked her and moved on, opting for pants in a slightly larger size and lightweight, breathable fabrics.
These moments lead me to reflect on life and what it means to navigate this transition. My children once loved a song called “100 Years” by Five for Fighting, which reminds us that life is fleeting. While I may not reach a full century, I find myself at a turning point—much like a change in seasons.
I met my husband at 19, just as I was nearing the end of my “spring” years—full of childhood innocence and discovery. By 29, I was deep in the “summer” of my life, welcoming my first child and juggling a budding career. Now at 49, my menstrual cycle has ceased. The long days of raising my children are behind me, with two in college and the youngest soon to follow. Although I hadn’t planned for more children, the finality of this phase still brings a tinge of sadness.
However, I remember my mother-in-law when she was 49. She went on to earn an advanced degree, make new friends, and travel extensively. She now enjoys the joy of three grandchildren and just celebrated her 79th birthday. My parents are also embracing this stage with optimism as they prepare for their own “winter.”
Here I am, on the brink of “autumn,” my favorite season—golden and glorious, filled with the harvest of all I’ve nurtured. The air is crisp, and while the days grow shorter, the nights offer a cozy peace. I look forward to the curiosity that 59 and 69 will bring. “There’s never a wish better than this when you only got a hundred years to live,” except for these sweats—let’s just call them an Indian summer.
For more insight into navigating this journey, check out other resources like Progyny’s blog or Make a Mom’s guide for information on home insemination. And if you’re looking for additional support, Intracervical Insemination can offer helpful guidance.
In summary, life’s transitions are inevitable, bringing both challenges and new beginnings. Whether it’s navigating menopause or embracing the joys of motherhood, each season offers unique experiences that shape who we are.