I have another blog post in the works, but I am interrupting its process to follow up on the last post.
I have discovered that there is an error in Genesis. Eve's curse is not the pain of childbirth. That is something you get through and get over. The real curse is hormones. They are a lifelong struggle.
A young girl, already plagued by the awkwardness of a disproportional body, has to suddenly deal with the onset of hormone invasion as she transitions into womanhood. Acne, mood changes, bloatedness, etc., phase 1.
A young woman, already dealing with the changes in her body (welcome or not), must deal with a new set and rush of hormones when she carries a child. Phase 2.
She delivers the child and in the midst of caring for a newborn, she finds herself also having to deal with phase 3.
She begins to wean the child. Phase 4.
She enters menopause and the hormones change again. Phase 4 with a strong dose of hot flashes.
As a woman in the midst of phase 4, I find myself thrown off my beat. I never expected to feel what I feel. I grasp for words to try and explain it to my husband--to explain it to myself!
Remember breaking up with a boyfriend/girlfriend and it going fairly well? You both know that it's time to move on and mutually part ways. That's how the weaning process began. But instead of a clean break, that boyfriend keeps showing up--here and there, at a party, at your favorite coffee shop--and you begin to question the move. You ask yourself, "have I made the right decision? Should we have broken up?" You keep seeing him and you begin to get angry. "Why won't he move on?" And then you fluctuate in a seeming never-ending cycle between knowing you have made the right decision, questioning that decision, and anger at the whole situation. If the milk would finally go away, I believe that I would be much, much better. But it lingers still and is making this process all the more difficult.
I have definitely been going through the five stages of grief for a while. As a hospice chaplain, you think that I would have caught on to that earlier. I long for that fifth stage, for the acceptance and contentment.
I long for the words to explain to my husband why I am nuttier than normal.
Along with the onslaught of emotions, I just want the zit smack in the middle of my forehead to go away.
Contentment, I will hunt you down soon enough.
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