I'm not pregnant, I'm menopausal

I'm not pregnant, I'm menopausal

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I wanted a second child. I've wanted one for years and years, but my husband isn't into it. He's a little older than me, and the math just didn't work out. Who wants a kid in college just when you're retiring?

So we've been careful about birth control for just years and years, except for this one thing that happened some weeks ago, a mistake or an accident or something like it.

And so when I noticed this month that my period was kinda late, I thought, huh. I never have been the most super-regular of people, which is why it took three months and a yeast infection to clue me in that I was pregnant last time. But come on, man. I'm almost 43. It was just that one time. That's crazy talk.

I hummed along, going to work, making dinner. Then, as I was sitting at my desk at work, I felt a strong, powerful painful tingling in my breasts.

What the–? I remember that feeling. The letdown feeling. What the hey? That's not a getting-my-period feeling for me. This is something else.

The internet can convince you of anything. Yes, sore and tender breasts, symptom of early pregnancy. Could it be? Could it? That afternoon, when I picked Violet up from summer camp, I took her by the Walgreens, ostensibly to get hair bands, really to get myself a pregnancy test.

Oh hell, they keep them locked up. I was hoping to sneak off and grab it without Violet seeing, now I have to find a clerk.

"Can I have that one, please?" I point out the purple Walgreens brand, the cheapest, but still $10. The clerk hands it over without a word.

"Mama, what's what?" Violet is intrigued by the purple box.

Do I tell her? No. I don't want anyone else getting excited/fearful like I am. "I'm a little late for my period and this thing is going to help me figure out why." She accepts that. No more questions. Oh good. The last thing I need is a lot of excited talk about a little brother or sister. I'm nervous enough already.

I tell no one about the box in my bag, which feels huge and hot and full of potential. I can barely sleep that night, thinking about it. I can picture it in the hallway in my black and white bag, outlined in a rectangle. Tell me, little purple box. Tell me what I want to hear. I dream a confused dream about finding a kitten but it's all messed up looking, and wake up at 4:45.

Okay, now or never. Morning pee, that's what it takes. Sit on the toilet, count to five…pee all over my hands, why must birth and bodies always be so moist?

Sit the test on a piece of toilet paper in the sink and…I'm not pregnant. The "not pregnant" lines are so strong they burn blue in the white background. I squint – is there maybe a faint cross line that would make a pregnant plus? No. Nothing. Not pregnant.

I slip back into bed with Phil, lucky Phil, who sleeps on peacefully. The internet said this too. Skipped periods, sore breasts; that can be two things: Pregnancy. Or perimenopause.

I'm not pregnant, I'm menopausal. Of course. Of course that's it. How stupid I feel. Stupid and sad and alone, a minus on the test. Today will be just another day, not one of the most exciting of my life.


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Watch the video: Im NOT pregnant - its my MENOPAUSAL belly! Update on Hormone Replacement Therapy HRT. LIFE (May 2022).

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