Christy Heitger-EwingAuthor
Journalist
Humorist

I was ten years old when I got my first period. Unlike the character in Judy Blume’s classic Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret, I was not eager to start menstruating. Of course, no female gets a vote on this. Although my period came early in life, it took no time at all to determine that periods are a pain in the ass. Enduring bleeding, back cramps, and stomach cramps. Wearing thick pads that feel like diapers. Sleeping on absorption cloths to avoid ruining your sheets. Becoming best friends with Midol, heating pads, and back massagers. And lest we forget the monthly worry of possibly bleeding through our clothes while out in public. It’s all so aggravating.

One thing I never thought to do—and it’s probably best that I didn’t—was to calculate how many decades I’d have to deal with this hassle. I’m now 52 so I’m going on 42 years of this shit. If I do the math, 42×12 is 504. Even if I subtract out my two pregnancies, that’s still 486 times I’ve bled since age ten. If you estimate that the average period lasts four days, that comes out to 1,944 days of all day/all night bleeding across my lifetime. That’s a lot of blood.

I cringe to think how much money I’ve spent on tampons, pads, pantyliners, and pain relief in the past four-plus decades. I could have gone on a kick-ass vacation with all that dough.

The one upside to pregnancy is that your periods cease for nine months. Other than that, however, pregnancy, in my opinion, sucks. You may disagree if you were one of those women who claims you never felt better than when you were expecting. To you I say, “What kind of shitty life did you live prior to getting knocked up?”

Because I found everything to be exponentially harder when I was preggers—sleeping, eating, walking, working, cooking, cleaning, bending, breathing, twisting, thinking, dressing, driving. I felt nauseated, bloated, and constipated. I struggled with hemorrhoids, acid reflux, and heartburn. I couldn’t reach my feet to tie my shoes or paint my toenails. I couldn’t ride rollercoasters, go ziplining, or participate in any other adrenaline-pumping activity. Plus, alcohol was off the table. And because I was making and growing a whole human, I was tired as fuck all the fucking time.

When you’re with child, mobility is compromised because your body releases relaxin during pregnancy. That sounds so soothing, doesn’t it? Like it should be the name of a tiki bar on a tropical beach? But no, relaxin is a hormone that loosens ligaments and joints, which makes everything around your pelvis all loosey goosey. That’s great for giving birth, but not so great if you want to go for a run.

Then comes childbirth, which is like the equivalent of competing in an Ironman competition in 100-degree heat with your only means of sustenance being shaved ice chips.

So, recapping: being a woman involves periods, possible pregnancies, and pushing out babies, none of which are pleasant experiences.

After making it through all of this, we get to our 40s and start to see the finish line to all this female bullshit, and that’s welcome news because Lord knows, we have earned a rest. The only problem is that we must first endure this nonsense called perimenopause. It’s essentially the final feminine hurdle that can last anywhere from a few months to up to ten years.

You must brace yourself for this final phase of womanhood because a) you may not know the signs to look for, b) you may second-guess yourself when you’re experiencing some of the signs, c) when you try talking to your primary care doctor about your concerns, he’ll likely gaslight you, which will make you second-guess yourself even further (is this called third-guessing?), and d) quite frankly, you don’t have the energy or mental fortitude to figure out what the hell is going on with your body.

However, I’m here to offer you good news! After living through perimenopause for the past six years, I decided to write a humor book about my experience. As you read it, you may learn some things, you may relate to some things, and best of all, you may release some of that inner rage and frustration that perimenopause has unleashed in you as you laugh your way through the pages.

Has perimenopause commandeered your body & your brain, wiped you of your energy & enthusiasm, wreaked havoc on your sleep & sex drive, and left you feeling like a shell of your former self? Are you feeling confused, stuck, isolated, unseen, misunderstood, exhausted, and ticked off? If so, Why Did I Walk into This Room? Finding the Humor When Perimenopause is Kicking Your Ass is for you. This relatable read not only shares helpful insights on how to find relief from perimenopausal symptoms but it also promises plenty of laughs along the way—all while reminding you that you are not alone during this precarious perimenopausal journey. You’ll laugh out loud as you read this collection of essays, all while saying, “Same, sister!”, “Amen, mama!”, and “OMG, yes!”

If you’re looking for hope, humor, and healing as you navigate perimenopause, Why Did I Walk into This Room? is just what the functional medicine doctor ordered. Pre-order your copy today: Why Did I Walk Into This Room? Finding the Humor When Perimenopause is Kicking Your Ass – Braughler Books Store

Coming soon! Pre-order your copy today: Why Did I Walk Into This Room? Finding the Humor When Perimenopause is Kicking Your Ass – Braughler Books Store