I awoke from surgery in a recovery room bed, still drowsy from the anesthesia but certainly aware that I was forever changed, forever less of a woman than I had ever dreamed. Thirteen vertical inches of my stomach/lower belly were pieced together with too many staples to count. I had three or four holes from which drains and tubes were still hanging out from. The pain I remember feeling never once really eased even with the use of the morphine pump that only barely numbed my mind and body enough to keep me a tiny bit sane. I lay trapped in that ICU bed for days, crying for myself, my dead baby, and my husband.
Although I don’t have a period each month, and believe me, I have learned to appreciate that and see it as some sort of blessing, I am still dealing with menopause as a young 20 something woman. It took four years after my hysterectomy to find hormone treatment that made me feel how that most women my age do.
At the young age of 28, I know very few women of similar age who are in menopause. I’m always curious and interested to compare notes when I do meet a women who are.