Menopausal MOM with minions (preschoolers)

That’s what I should change the name of this blog to.  The symptoms of perimenopause do not go well with a 3 and 4 year old.  Here are some examples:

I got a massage this morning.  That sounds relaxing and indulgent, but it’s more work and sometimes painful.  She finds the trigger points that hurt and pushes them out.  Sometimes I work hard not to hold my breath.  She saw my legs today and said “You have as many bruises as my kids.”  Yes, and my hormones are so out of whack every month that I bruise easily every time one of the boys jumps on me or ninja whacks me in the legs with a book or a toy drill.

My hair falls out in clumps just before my period for two months now.  My doctor said I’ll just be one of those old women with sparse hair.  I’m 46!  I’m not 62!  And it grows back in.  NO, my estrogen is just bottoming out every month and my hair falls out.  But add to that two little boys who like to hold my hair when they are getting their butts wiped, or lovingly pet me in a little boy pulling hair kind of way.

And then there is the nap time problem.  Just as they’ve grown out of taking naps I’ve grown into them.

I got myself a fitbit last week and the one thing I discovered is that I sleep horribly.  7 hours and 3 of that is restless and 45 minutes of that is awake.  Then I realized that it’s tracking hot flashes.  I wake up, throw the covers off, go back to sleep, get cold, wake up, pull the covers back on.

Any other woman going through this would be like, well, I’ll get 9 hours tonight and nap tomorrow.  Not me.  The 3 year old sat on me today as I was laying on the couch and kept poking me in the nose to make sure I was awake.

Bald, tired, and bruised.  That’s me.

The 10 Worst and Best Things about being an older MOM of babies (and having adult children at the same time)

I saw this list on Huffington Post Today:  The 10 Worst and Best Things about Being an Old Mom.  Some of it made me laugh because I am 46 and have a 4 and a 3 year old.  But some of it is too politically correct when having toddlers as an old Mom is not nearly so CLEAN.  And some of it doesn’t quite fit my life as I also have an 18,20, and 21 year old.  Two separate families.  22 years of children or pregnancy.  15 more to go.  That makes me feel tired.  I should go lay down.

So here’s my own version of this list:

10 Worst Things:

  1.  A couple of people have asked me if the older boy is my grandchild.  First I snicker and say, “No, and he has a younger brother too.”  And sometimes “I call them a medical malfunction” or “birth control doesn’t always work” or “I’ll be one of those 65 year olds who have a surprise pregnancy.”  Most often though I snort through my nose and say “The girls won’t be having babies because they were RIGHT THERE (and gesture toward my vagina) when the boys were born.”  I am not sure if the laughter is because it’s funny or uncomfortable to talk about my vagina.
  2. Small font.  OMG, yes.  I can’t read anything without looking under my glasses and finding the perfect distance from my face.  There is also small print in video games and on cereal boxes and the boys want to know what EVERYTHING says.  Or where it was made.  I gave up and now I just make shit up.
  3. I have to take care of myself because the moms at the preschool ARE MY OLDER CHILDREN’S FRIENDS.  And when the grandparents of the preschool kids are doing the pick up I fit right in.  I also pride myself on throwing the little one over my shoulder while dragging the other out of a snowbank and dragging him to the minivan.  Then I take ALEVE when I get home and find my heating pad.  But for a good minute there I looked amazingly athletic.  I will be doing my retirement party with the little one’s high school graduation party.
  4. I went to my doctor last week because my hair is falling out and I feel like shit.  Perimenopause and two babies has thrown me into an unbalanced hormone hell.  I also can’t do all nighters with sick babies.  There are days when I have more patience, but never as much energy and so it evens out.  I can’t imagine how I stayed home with 3 little ones and now I make excuses to go to work to sleep on my office couch.
  5. I haven’t been able to sit and read a book during the day in 21 years.
  6. I haven’t been able to poop without having a conversation with someone in 21 years.
  7. I never did get to travel and party.  Now I’ll be 62, broke, broken, and want to nap.
  8. I have no retirement.
  9. I get up early with babies who want me and stay up late with teenagers/young adults who want me.
  10. I do not want to be a grandmother.  I’m tired.

Ten Best Things:

  1. I have lots of things to whine about.  And I love to whine and then laugh, which makes people think I’m cheerful but it’s more of a laugh because you don’t want to cry kind of thing.
  2. I have an excuse to not exercise.
  3. I like to send the girls out with their brothers so people will think they got pregnant in their teens.  For some reason that is funny to me.
  4. I have all the kid books memorized so I don’t actually have to read Green Eggs and Ham.  I can recite it from memory.
  5. My boys will be unique because I find the things they do hysterical, like playing with their penises, licking the table, or mispronouncing words.  I see no reason to fix any of this.  My kids can paint their nails or dye their hair blue and I just don’t care.
  6. They don’t make me younger.  They make me older.  Everything pops and snaps and sags and is gray.  But I have lost the ability to care.  I wear yoga pants and plaid shirts to pick them up.  There is a sense of freedom in that.
  7. Sympathy from other people.
  8. Gifts of alcohol from some of the sympathetic people.
  9. People don’t ask me to volunteer for things.
  10. The only way it keeps me young is that I know the names of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and I get to play with cool race tracks (which I didn’t get to do as a child) until I need help getting up from the floor.

Ten things never to say to a Pregnant Woman Who is Overdue.

I’m writing this in response to a similar article a friend shared on my Facebook page.  All of these things have been said to me this past week, although I’m not overdue until midnight tonight.  Don’t take any of this seriously.  Each one made me laugh as I still somehow have a sense of humor and some actually gave me contractions which can’t be a bad thing at this point.

  1. When are you due again?
    Hey, I’m just thankful for the attention and sympathetic looks.  Welcome to my pity party.
  2. Is that baby ever going to come out?
    Never.  Maybe in 2015.  Or my newest reply, “I googled world’s longest pregnancy.”
  3. You should go home and take a big poop, but not in the toilet.
    I am afraid as this is my 5th child that I might be in labor and not know it and that when I do poop he might fall into the toilet.  But where exactly do you want me to poop then?
  4. Try sex (they say this in a hushed tone, as though I don’t already know this.)
    The problem with this advice is that seeing as this is my 5th baby and I’m 43 I have varicose veins that have swollen my nether regions to the point where I don’t even know where my vagina is.  And it hurts all the time.  So how do I explain to people at work in the middle of the hall that sex is just not going to happen.
  5. Try spicy food.
    The LAST thing I want to do is have the raging shits while I’m in labor.  The next-to-last thing I want to do is think that I’m in labor, go to the hospital, and then discover that it was just a gassy raging shit instead of labor.
  6. You’re still working?
    Well, seeing as there’s no maternity leave and as a part-timer I have no sick or vacation days I am forced to wander the halls holding on to walls until the very end.  Pay me to go home and I will.
  7. Try a teeter-totter.
    See #4 and think about the condition of my nether regions as they smack on a hard board.  The pain of this thought did make me contract.
  8. Do squats, take long walks, jump up and down.
    When I was in my 20’s this was possible.  These days where I try to walk to the kitchen from the living room I have to stop twice to wait for the nerve pain in my legs to subside and I cry.
  9. Your belly button is gone!
    I don’t mind people saying this but PLEASE DON”T REACH OUT AND TRY TO FIND IT.  I don’t care about touching my belly, but pushing on my belly button does hurt.
  10. Laughing at me.
    Honestly, I’m just glad I can make people laugh.  Go ahead.  And then buy me a glass of wine when it’s over.

Maybe I’m weird, but I’m much more concerned about this baby having a HUGE head and being 10 days overdue than about what people say to me.  Why do we find fault with other people’s interest?   Go right ahead and accuse me of stealing a basketball.  I think it’s funny too.

The Mirena can disappear or worse. Or this can happen.

Did you know that the hormone in the Mirena could cause “the masculinization of the external female genitalia of the female fetus?”  This quote is from the Full Prescribing Information link on the official Mirena website.  Or it can tear a hole in your uterus leading to a hysterectomy, scar tissue, and life long health issues.

 

Or this could happen:

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As I lay on the ultrasound table waiting for the ultrasound person to goo my belly, I asked her if this was all a joke she’d played on me the month before when I had discovered that I was pregnant and she had spent an hour looking for the lost Mirena.

It’s hard to be in denial when this little Buddha bellied fetus is standing on its head and waving.  I still think I’m just getting fat and not that there’s someone alive in there.  I’m a baby hotel.  A Super 8.  Or a Days Inn.  Stay Free for 9 Months in Flashing Neon on my forehead.

The worst part (Or one of the worst parts because I keep starting out conversations that way) is that my oldest daughter’s friends seem to all be having babies and my baby will be younger!!!

Maybe I should just train the two babies (don’t forget my 14 month old) to call me Grandma and then I look like a self-sacrificing Grandmother instead of an idiot.

Is the Mirena a Good Idea? Can the Mirena just Fall Out?

I thought it was a great idea at first.  More effective than a vasectomy.  Hardly any maintenance.  5 years of not taking pills.

Hell, yes.

Can it fall about without anyone knowing it?

Hell yes.

I did everything I was supposed to do.  Had it checked on 6 weeks after insertion and it was right where it was supposed to be.

But it disappeared, vanished, teleported to someone else’s cervix.  I don’t know when or how and I didn’t cramp or bleed or feel it coming out.

How do I know it’s not there???

I thought the steroid nasal spray was making me ill.  That is one of the side effects.  And then I thought the antibiotic for my ear infection was making me ill.  That is one of the side effects.  Every afternoon around 3:00 I get desperately ill.  Couch laying ill.  Groaning and wishing I could die ill.

I could sue them if it was still in there, embedded in a wall, tearing a hole through to my bladder.  But it’s GONE.  The ultrasound person said she’d never seen one just disappear before and that it might have gotten caught on a tampon or come out if I was constipated.  Steroid nasal spray makes me constipated.

How can birth control just fall out?

What other birth control can cause such harm?

What other birth control fails and tears through a fetus, breaks apart, puts hole through things, requires surgery to take out?

They say it’s more effective than tubal ligation or a vasectomy.  But it seems they aren’t counting the times it vaporizes, POOF.

I keep looking around at the floor thinking I’m going to see it lying there.  “Oh, there you are!”

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$800 just for the IUD, more for the insertion, $600 for the ultrasound to check on it.  $270,000 when it goes POOF.

Don’t do it!!!!

20 Ways to Tell When You Are Too Old To Have Another Baby

  • When you can breastfeed the baby without picking him up off the floor.
  • When you have trouble getting back up off the bathroom floor after giving him a bath.
  • When the cracking of your ankles wakes up the baby as you try to sneak past him.
  • When you haven’t pulled an all-nighter in over 20 years.
  • When your children’s friends have babies older than yours.
  • When you are already wearing stretchy pants and 18 hour bras.
  • A year before your oldest child leaves the house.
  • When you have already begun thinking about how much social security you’ll get if you retire early.
  • Six years after your doctor calls you middle-aged.
  • Six years after your first hot flash.
  • Any time after you wake up in the middle of the night covered in cold sweat.
  • When you’ve realized that you don’t want to clean up after pets anymore.
  • When you can’t even get your own body off the floor without grunting.
  • When tossing keys to your child pops your knee out of place.
  • When you have given up shaving your legs more than twice a year because bending over makes your hip sockets snap.
  • When you avoid the optometrist because at any second you could need bifocals.
  • When your life already revolves around trying to be regular.
  • When you don’t know if the prune juice is for the baby or for you.
  • When you let other people carry him because your arms are too weak.
  • When you are so blind that you automatically put your glasses on to comfort him in the dark in the middle of the night.

The Mirena

I’ve had two put in since the baby was born.  I can’t even THINK the word MIRENA in my head without getting it confused with MACARENA and remembering how uncoordinated I am.

Thank goodness the mirena doesn’t take coordination.

The first one was put in by the temp-guy I called Grandpa who said he knew what he was doing, but it wasn’t in far enough and one arm was twisted.  The procedure was painful and long, like labor again without getting a cute little baby out of the deal.  I cramped like never before for 2 days afterward and spotted for 6 straight weeks.

When I called to have him check on it the next month he had mysteriously disappeared from the new St. Vincent’s ob office in town and I went back to the doctor I had seen once who had then delivered my baby.  I feel like a doctor-slut just writing that last sentence, but that’s what the end of my pregnancy was like, with my regular ob moving to Hawaii the week before I was due.  Anyway, I was bounced around and ended up with the competition in town.   But then when I tried to get in there instead of seeing the temp-guy they said I couldn’t do that.  But now he’s “gone” and I am so glad I got to switch.

The new doctor took out the old Mirena and put a new one in in under a minute with no pain.  No cramping.  No spotting.  Wild MOOD Swings.  Yes.  But other than that I am really happy with it, when I’m not moody.

I went back in to have it checked today and we went straight to internal ultrasound.  That’s the kind of relationship I have with this other doctor.  I walk around her office in a sheet and we go straight to dildo like device in the vagina that can see my cervix in a way that the old shoehorn can’t.  Back to me being a doctor-slut.  When I get to the point when I willingly strip and walk around an office in a sheet I think too many people have been up in my schizzel.  Or Hoo-Ha.