All posts tagged menopause

About the Cha Cha Cha Changes

Published March 14, 2015 by megdedwards

killer whale








Everybody’s change is different.  But change we do; we do change.

Adolescence is the first change. Little children start to morph right before our eyes. Tiny waif like boys fill out, voices dropping, shoulders forming.  Girls grow curves and budding breasts and the chemistry begins.  So we could call the beginning of adolescence, menoprimo, the beginning of change.

Then we go through our reproductive stage. Hormones take charge of the body and drive us through this next section of life. Let’s just call this next stage ‘meno’ and for women that stands for menstruation or non-menstruation, which is also known as ‘pregnancy’. Those are your two choices.

Then the beginning of the end; menopause. Men and women, pause. Change.

The waning of the hormones. The decrease in oestrogen and testosterone can feel pretty intense as the body  bravely tries to adjust. The list of symptoms for menopause covers pretty much anything that feels bad.

Anxiety, asthma, allergies, and arthritis can all be described as possible side effects of menopause. When the happy hormones stop the whole show changes. I gave birth fairly late at forty years and then breast fed for three years, so when the Change began I was in a free fall from happy hormones. It felt like I had returned from the moon.

Men experience the change too. I can see changes in my partner. And that’s cool because we are changing together.  We are not meant to reproduce anymore. And that’s good because we are a lot less energetic than we used to be.

The time of Change can be seen as a positive development, as long as you don’t mind the fact that you are actually getting closer to dying.

The woman’s body can rest from the rigor of monthly cycles and blood letting. She can grow a few chin hairs and have more time to take on the world.  If the man sticks with his wife he can also rest peacefully knowing that his baby making wife has retired from that job. He can mellow out and make cookies.

I did not mind the bleeding or the births. That was all pretty natural and made sense to me. It grounded me and made me feel like I was a part of the animal world in a cathartic and feral way.  Bleeding and birthing were intense bloody experiences.

When I was reaching the end days of the reproductive cycle I had massive blood lettings. The cycle would start with a minimal and discreet sort of blood; dark, scant and without pain. But it would build in intensity until I felt my muscles scraping every bit of blood from my lower body leaving me weak in the knees and pale.

The blood of the last few cycles was bright red as if from a wound. Stop now, I would say to my body, this is not menstrual  blood, you are just trying to kill me. And it stopped. Gradually the cycles slowed down, once every three months, twice a year. Once a year?

I have not heard from my womb in a long time. It is pretty quiet. It is no longer calling out the months, transforming my breasts, engineering my moods.

I am enjoying this Change. I am being transformed into a non-reproductive woman.  I am becoming a hag and a crone, a woman not weighted by sexiness or babies.

I feel strong. like a old bear waking up from a sleep, not about to take any shit from anyone.  Also, as the baby years recede behind me I feel a childish joy in the return of my own personal time.

Time to myself to write! And 50,000 words into a novel, I can honesty say I am writing. To create! Fifteen hooked rugs in the last few years and now I am planning a series of rugs and a show. To dream! I have ideas and concepts for plays, films, radio shows. The more time I have the more plans I have.

The hot flashes still surge through my body during the night. Sometimes my joints feel loose and like my hips could fall out of place. Things are changing and adjusting within me.

But I find that the sweating leaves my skin dewy and refreshed, and I believe that the heat of the flashes acts like a mid life protective fever, cleaning my body of bad chemicals and realigning my hormone levels for the next forty years of stable womanhood.

Like my girl friend the matriarchal Orca, or Killer Whale, I intend to lead the pod with my acquired wisdom.





Photo copied from (insights-into-menopause-come-from-killer-whales)  With thanks!


The Birds and the Bees

Published September 26, 2013 by megdedwards





A cool grey morning after the school bus pulls away and

 I am sitting on the cold damp rocking chair on the porch,

Sipping lukewarm tea.

Watching the crows yell information at each other;

They keep a beady eye on me as they eat our breakfast crusts.

The blanket on the chair was precious, a striped throw with burnt orange stripes;

But what once was Mom’s favorite blanket is now becoming just a blanket.

The racoons have left some discarded food on it.                    

Without a desire to move, I note the birdfeeder dumped on the ground

By the night creatures with little hands.

A whirring little hummingbird approaches the porch for one last meal before heading south;

I am quiet and motionless, attempting invisibility.


My hands are spotted and freckled, varnished by the elements.

As we age our skin thins, leaving our skeleton and circulation system exposed.

I am quietening sharp menstrual cramps from a diminishing cycle,

 bright red blood is soaking my rags, like an alarm.

I am no longer a young woman, harassed and exhausted, stalked by life.

No more babies, no more milk in my breasts, no more life in my womb.


I am the slow moving spider, making one more web.

I am the big bumbling bee on her way to Nirvana, pollen weighing down her flight.


One bee has fallen asleep in a flower, her bum exposed,

but she no longer cares. Her little spirit is summer and honey.

A fat spider pulls her beautiful body into herself when I speak to her,

tucking herself in tight against the outside world.

Her web is broken and decorated with leaves and dead bodies.

She has crept into a quiet corner and is slowly becoming something else.



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