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I didn’t have the language for what was happening.

My mother died of breast cancer when she was just 45. At that age, I had never even heard the word menopause. I had heard my mom and my aunts talk about “the change,” but I never really understood what that meant or what it might one day mean for me.

Something I couldn’t name

In my late 30s, I began noticing changes that I didn’t have an explanation for. I was tired, my mood seemed to shift more easily, and I experienced mood swings that felt unfamiliar. At 41, I started experiencing strange sensations of warmth that would move from my waist up toward my neck. They often happened while I was simply sitting at my desk at work. I didn’t know what they were.

Then, at 45, everything changed.

At 45

I was diagnosed with fibroid tumours after having my period for 21 days straight. The bleeding had become so severe that I was exhausted, and my iron levels had been very low for years. I had become accustomed to feeling tired, almost to the point where I didn’t realize how unwell I actually felt.

The fibroids were enormous. The largest was about the size of a grapefruit, and they were pressing on my internal organs and rectum, causing severe pain and extremely heavy periods. I ultimately had a hysterectomy at 45. My ovaries were left intact.

Carrying on

After the surgery, something remarkable happened: my iron levels finally climbed, and I felt so much better. But despite having a major gynecological surgery at 45, no one ever talked to me about menopause. No one explained what might happen next. No one connected the symptoms I had already been experiencing with the changes that were happening in my body.

So I carried on.

Night sweats

At around 50, I started experiencing night sweats. And when I say night sweats, I mean night sweats. I felt like I could have turned on every fan in the world and it still wouldn’t have been enough.

I was moody too, although at the time, I had another perfectly reasonable explanation: I was raising two teenage daughters.

There were other changes that seemed to appear along the way. I started leaking a little urine when I coughed or laughed. I gained weight. I felt puffy. I was tired again.

I just thought this was what happened as you got older.

But I didn’t have the language to put all of these things together. I didn’t know that what I was experiencing was part of menopause. I didn’t know that there was anything to ask about, anything to prepare for, or anything I could do differently.

And now, at 72, I feel normal.

What I wish I’d known

Looking back, I wish I had known then what I know now. I wish someone had explained that menopause isn’t simply a moment when your periods stop. It’s a transition that can begin years before, with changes that can affect how you feel, sleep, think, move, and experience your body.

I wish I’d had the information to recognize what was happening instead of simply wondering why I felt different.

Because sometimes, knowing what’s happening doesn’t change the experience. But it can change everything about how you move through it.

Mary Anne Blackburn
Hamilton, Ontario