My mother died when I was a young Mum, very young actually, I was in my early 20’s with four children already. Then a baby girl later, who never met her Nan. But we all know that. What we forget is that Mum was the mother to 5 other children, two of whom were girls. She was OUR mother. She left three daughters, very young women all. And Mum was young too… 49 (actually she was 50 but she said to say 49. It is more dramatic, she whispered – cancer did not interfere with her sense of humour.) But my little sister was still a teenager when her Mum died.
50 is such a rich time in a woman’s life because 50 is very close to the Change of Life. The Big Secret. The Witching time. The aging. The Menopause. I know this is a shocking word. Menopause. I know by saying this word many of you turn off. You become furtive, what if they think we are obsolete if we are infertile, you think. Many of you look over your shoulder and hope ‘The Men’ are not reading. We live in a society that worships youth. The menopausal woman has been trained to Shut Up about it. But I have no idea what to expect. My Mum never reached menopause. So my map is incomplete. If she had, Mum would have known what to say to me and my sisters. But my Mum is not here. Mum is not here to say that Menopause is OK, it is not dirty or sad. It is a beginning time. Or is it a long time? I don’t know.
But what am I to tell my little sister? What shall I tell her? How shall I draw the pathway that she will follow. I am the oldest. I want to write a letter for my sisters.
So I thought I would ask you. Many of you have mothers who can teach us, many of you are old enough to be able to tell me real stuff I can pass on to my sisters. Many of you have gone through the woman-a-pause and are in a gentler phase. Many of you are men who have been through the menopause with your mothers, or your wives. Many of you are young women watching your own mothers struggle or not struggle. Maybe menopause is simple for some women. Did you feel the need to buy a red sports car? Did you have dizziness or hot faces? Were you a little drifty and forgetful? Or did you want to yell and stomp? Do you still? Were you terribly tired? Or manic with an itchy foot? Did you think that if you had to make one more dinner for a silent man you would shoot somebody? Maybe I will have no trouble at all? Maybe my sister won’t have any problems either. But she is half a world away and she has no mother. What shall I tell her?
I know this is a taboo subject but I don’t care. We need to gather our information. This is what I thought.
Then I thought; this is such a wonderful subject, such an empowering subject, there is so much I want to know, you and I are sure to have so much to say. The comments section will be heaving. Then I thought: what if I were to turn the comments section into a book for my sister and THEN I thought. Let’s WRITE a BOOK. You and I and all the Fellowship. We can write a book together. Let’s collect 100 essays about Menopause,100 anecdotes, 100 mad things, or funny things, or poems or paintings, or telling things your aunts said or your granny told you or your mother experienced or you have felt. I am not going to call it The Change. I am not going to whisper it. I refuse to think that running out of eggs in my ovaries means I am less powerful than I was yesterday. Maybe I am more powerful.
I know you are wondering what this has to do with a farm journal blog. Um.. looking deeply.. nope.. Nothing!! But it has everything to do with you and I. And I know for sure that many of you have no mothers, or your mothers cannot speak about these things, I know that many of you have something to say about this. Many of you have been through it. Many of you are IN it. And many of you are stronger for it. Many of you have been silenced by it. Tell me. Write it down for me. So I can collect all your words into one glorious letter to my sister.
Are you brave enough. Do yu want to add your words? Do you have a sister or a daughter or a mother? Shall we make a book? I cannot pay you. I have no money for this. Though I think we will find it then pay them back. But I don’t care about that either. But I feel deeply that we should write it. You and I. You can write a short or long essay. And you should all get a credit. I think we should yank this subject out from under its rock. I know that you and I will probably have to buy the copies to give to our sisters and daughters and nieces, just to pay for the printing. But will you write something? Will you leave you name on the bottom of the paragraph? Your voice is important. Clever writing is not important. Grammar is not important. Length is not important. Spelling is not important. (Spell check does great things.) Punctuation is not even important. YOU are important. 12 words or 1200. Every voice is worth listening to because we all go through this one way or another. We are totally equal in the progression of womanhood.
Are you brave enough? You can all write. Everyone can write. Will you write something?
Make a comment. Even if you have never commented before. Let me know what you think and I will email you with more details. Shall we write a book together.. you and I?
If you cannot comment but want to join, my email is celima.g.7@gmail.com
There is no-one else like you. No-one else sees it like you do. That is how important you are.
Your friend on the farmy,
celi
The Kitchen's Garden 
152 responses to “A letter for my sister”
We all have such unique stories. I would love to be part of this if you still have an opening!
Oh, Celi. This is a book I wish I had in my hands right now. Wait! I do! I’ll spend some time this evening reading through the comments. I’ve read through your comments before and know there are many wise people visiting you on the farmy.
This past December was one year since I had my last period. My periods were horrific for the last ten years because I had fibroids and the only option offered to me was a hysterectomy which I refused after doing a lot of research. (Would you belief one doctor told me they would turn cancerous? That’s a flat out lie. Recent studies show that women who have had hysterectomies have shorter lives by 5-10 years. Even after menopause, those reproductive organs serve a purpose.) There are better treatments for fibroids now, but they were not yet thought of or were experimental during the time period when I could have used them.
My mother had a hysterectomy when she was in her 40’s. It was the done thing in those days. After having five children, the doc told she’d be better off yanking everything out. That way, he said, she wouldn’t have to worry about ovarian or uterine cancer as she aged. I never got the time or chance to ask her if she experienced any kind of menopausal symptoms. By the time I was starting to go through it, Mom was diagnosed with lung cancer. I guess she could have kept her uterus and ovaries after all (although, after having five children and adhering to Catholic principles, it was probably a relief to her not to have to deal with the possibility of pregnancy again). My mother died in 2009, three years before I officially became menopausal, and the one time I did ask her about it, she shooed away the question and said she didn’t experience any problems at all.
I’ve had hot flashes on and off for over ten years, but in December of 2012, after my last bleeding time, the hot flashes turned nuclear. I am positive that one day I will spontaneously combust. My husband will come home from work one day and find nothing remaining of me except soot on the ceiling and ashes on the floor. For a few weeks last year, the hot flashes were accompanied by waves of extreme anxiety. I worked hard to not resort to pharmaceuticals. I know too much about them from being married to a pharmacologist and from my years working in a pharmacy. (That said, I know that sometimes we all need a little help, and if I had to, if all else failed, I would get a prescription for something that would assist me through the worst of the anxiety. I also know that for some, medication is a godsend so I most certainly don’t judge or begrudge the use of drugs when necessary.) I got up early and established a morning routine of yoga, meditation, exercise (cardio to get those endorphins flowing), walks outside, reading (to learn, to be inspired, to distract myself from myself), and writing in my journal. I ate healthful, nourishing, nurturing foods. For me, that meant being mostly vegetarian. I do eat some soy, but only the fermented varieties (tofu, tempeh, miso). It worked. Then I failed to maintain it these past few months so I’m back around to having some anxiety with my hot flashes. That means I need to get back on track.
Insomnia has become an almost-constant, partially because of the hot flashes. They are at their worst at night. Between 1:00 and 4:00 AM, I hot flash and can’t sleep. I have stopped worrying about it. Every third night or so, I’ll be exhausted enough to sleep well. I consider it a blessing. The nights I am awake have become useful in helping me catch up on my reading (books, magazines, nothing online).
There is so much more, but this is already a lengthy comment. Thank you, Celi. I recently had the opportunity to spend a weekend with some older female friends who were wonderfully supportive, and able to give me advice on what I’m experiencing. Better yet, they reassured me that this is normal. Just hearing that was reassuring.
Another fantastic idea of yours, Miss C! I would love to contribute, so will think about it and email you something. I time my beginning of the menopause to my diagnosis of breast cancer, so for me it is all tied up with hormone therapy.
BTW, I love your new little pig. She is such a cutie!
Dear Celi, what a wonderful idea. I’ve lurked and loved your daily writings but never quite got up the courage to comment! My Mum died before I had my baby, who is now 12. I’m 50 and in menopause. It’s too late and I’m too tired to write more, other than count me in, please. x
I most definitely will participate! I’m 61 and haven’t had a period for 15 yrs and it has not been kind to me. Like MMehaffey the libido faded away to nothing and while I feel sorry for my dear husband I’m too tired to care because menopause has destroyed my ability to get a full, restful night’s sleep. While not horrific it has not been easy and I still have periodic hot flashes and at least one night sweat every night. I tried to avoid pharmaceutical help for a long time but finally had to go to an antidepressant lest someone in this house ended up dead!. I will await your email instructions, sherryw@kmoraine.com.
Looks like you’ve struck a chord with a lot of women Celia. When I had a hysterectomy at 45, the ‘treatment’ at the time was to take Premarin, a synthetic hormone made with mare’s urine. After reading about “The Women’s Health Initiative study” (http://www.health.harvard.edu/newsweek/Postmenopausal_hormones_Hormone_therapy.htm) that was cut short due to a 50% increase in heart attack and increase in breast cancer in women taking these synthetic drugs, I decided to stop the Premarin. Who knows why but it could be the synthetic drugs – about 87% of the components never leave your body. In any case, after stopping the prescription my body became a kiln with a faulty thermostat. I couldn’t concentrate on anything for more than 10 minutes although I don’t remember (or choose to forget) having any mood swings (my husband may disagree). I used to sleep with a pile of cotton T shirts beside me at night because the sheets would soak through if I slept naked.
Many years later I ran across a doctor who had studied menopause and prescribed a bio-identical, specially compounded cream that you apply to the inside of your arms once a day. Since it’s natural and bio-identical 100% of the components are flushed from your body within 24 hours. It certainly took care of the blistering hot flashes. That said, I have many friends who breezed through menopause without a problem. I guess it’s a lot like pregnancy – some women spend 2 days in labor and others drop them in the car on the way to the hospital. Everyone’s different.
Some men may be brave enough to deal with menopause but I’ve found that most in my generation are very embarrassed if the subject comes up. I have a friend who is extremely conservative, okay – he’s very uptight – ask me why I was driving around in the dead of winter with my windows down and the sunroof open in below zero weather. Not even thinking that it might make him uncomfortable, I told him “Two things: 1. I have a 120 lb. Bernese Mountain Dog in the back who’s farting up a storm and 2) I’ve got hot flashes from hell”. Now that I think of it, we usually just talk about the weather when I run into him.
Diane
I share your pain Celi – my sweet 45 yr. old Mom died when I was a 22 year old new mother. I am the little sister.
Amazingly, Mom and I were just discussing menopause. But I’ve lived my adult life without Mom. I’m grateful to have 2 older Sisters who have been wonderful in answering any questions I had.
I would be honoured to contribute to your ‘letters to Sis’…….
No secrets too dark for the Fellowship! And certainly, in this day and age there should be no shyness about (let alone taboo against) talking about menopause, any more than we should fear discussing colon or prostate or breast cancer, mental illness, alcoholism, divorce, physical disability, or any other aspect of real life that affects so many of us on a constant basis. I’ll put up a post about Adventures in Menopause, yes indeedy. Soon, and I’ll give you the link as soon as I do. What a great idea and gift to your sweet sister. xoxo!
Kath
What a fantastic idea Celi
I am looking forward to reading the final masterpiece, although the whole thing is a bit of a mystery to me so I cannot contribute. 😉
That is why we are writing it for you! No longer the mystery little sister.. c
Not sure I have anything to add, really, it went fairly easily for me without a lot of agony. But I don’t want to be left out…
Actually, I’m feeling a lot of connection with all the others whose moms had a hysterectomy, and the ones whose moms have passed. That’s a tough aspect of the whole thing. My mom had “hot flashes til I thought I’d die” after her hysterectomy, which was when I was too young to know about it. And she was gone before I went through it.
I got by with progesterone cream, evening primrose oil, and a lot of the other usual supplements (C, E, Fish oil, etc.etc.) I take a ton of supplements because of arthritis, the menopause thing even though I’m technically through it, and two brothers who have MS (I don’t have it). My chiro told me to use the progesterone cream for three weeks at a time and give it a week break, then start again, just like a cycle.
But I admit I never had night sweats or flashes that were super-disruptive.
None of my aunts on either side had a natural menopause, either.
I’ll be glad to have something to give my daughters.
forgot to mention. I’m 57, and 18 months since my last period.
Hey Celi .. I’m more than happy to share my experiences – I would be delighted. I only wish I had known a ‘wee’ bit more about it before it arrived unannounced! what a journey it has been. 🙂
Came in very late on this… I am 57 and 7 years down the line. My mother entered menopause about the same time as I hit puberty, I drew the short straw and was sent off to a convent boarding school. My full biology and sex education was handled by the nuns from thereon. My mother died when I was 30 from Altzheimers, so the subject of menopause never came up. I married at 38 and was divorced just after 40, so never had children. I had my last period just after my 50th and was totally relieved and liberated. I had a very busy career, stressful at times, so it was easy to blame headaches, mood swings and hot flushes on the current stress level related to work. Insomnia didn’t really hassle me either, I would just get up and read or do something else. It was at this stage that I stopped eating meat and lived mostly on raw fruit and vegetables, but my craving for bread increased dramatically. I developed psoriasis which was very difficult to control, but once I stopped work at 55 and readjusted my diet has mostly cleared up. I never took any hrt or even natural therapies. Now to find a way to get rid of this extra tummy flab that just won’t move. Laura
Wonderful idea – am only jsut getting there myself and my mother and grandmother both had hysterectomies very young and don’t have any strong memories other than of just having to “get on with it” so I shall read with great interest!
I’d love to contribute. I see people telling their stories here in the comments. Is that what you want? Or are we doing this off-line? Just want to give you what you want.
I will send you an email, with the details and you can send me something back when you are ready. We can take our time that way..Thank you! c
My mother had cancer when she was 40 and I was 10. The chemotherapy and radiation treatments sent her into a chemically-induced early menopause. At her age it never wore back off as it sometimes will with younger cancer patients. She had hot flashes, headaches, and spent a lot of time in bed with cold compresses. She was very clear on sharing what was happening to her. My mother had no shame, kept nothing hidden when it came to the workings of her body. It was not something she ever wanted us to be afraid of. Hormone replacement was not common back then so she never had anything to really ease her symptoms. It took her five years to go through it, but once she was, she found life after to be such a relief.
My own experience was quite different. I had a hysterectomy at age 33 after suffering for more than 15 years with endometriosis and multiple miscarriages and periods that could last up to 8 weeks with heavy bleeding and clots. I went into immediate menopause. With the hormone therapy I went on, I didn’t exhibit symptoms for the first two years. What I experienced was freedom. Freedom from fear of accidentally getting pregnant and suffering another miscarriage, freedom to pack for a vacation and not have to worry about packing supplies because my periods always came randomly, freedom to wear white whenever the heck I wanted and to never have to take birth control pills again to try to keep my system on track. I did not have to plan my life around it anymore. It was a glorious feeling. It still is 12 years later.
After I was weaned off the hormone therapy, I did have the occasional hot flash that would last for several hours and some irritable moments, but mine were not too bad compared to what I’d seen with my mother. It was a gradual tapering process and it lead to a rather easy change. I’ve been symptom free of menopause for many years now and my life is so much easier now than when I was a slave to my periods.
My daughter was almost 7 when this began and I was always open with her about the process. We have talked about it a lot as she has grown up and gone through puberty. She knows that one day she will have menopause and I have explained to her it probably will be different from mine and different from my mother’s experience, since neither came naturally, but that there are books to read now on the subject. Like with everything else, information is at her fingertips at the library and online. She was taught how to avail herself of this information at a young age. The one thing I have always wanted for my children is that they never are in the dark about anything their bodies do and they can always ask me or their father about anything. I will tell them what I know and point them in the right direction of finding out more. Knowledge is the only way our children can arm themselves, even if it is for something that may not happen to them for many years to come.
Menopause should come out of the dark for everyone.
You asked in your letter where the writer’s are from. I am from Washington State.