I stopped menstruating after my thyroidectomy almost 10 years ago (I’m 57, btw). Before that I was definitely in perimenopause: My normally scheduled-to-a-t periods suddenly went haywire, so much so that I had to carry stuff on me at all times just in case of spontaneity. I was always petrified of that. I also stopped having all the usual pre-menstrual signs like cramps and breast tenderness. I used to get both horribly, and as much as I hated them, at least they were the clue that something was imminent.
My mother had a hysterectomy right after I was born. According to her doctor it was a miracle I was conceived because, given all her issues in that area, I wasn’t supposed to exist. My parents had been married for almost 7 years. This was back in the days where most married women in our sphere pumped out as many kids as possible. My mother never discussed it, but I’m pretty sure on some level not being able to do the same messed with her head.
It’s a strange world we live in. I remember when being an only child was looked upon with pity and derision. Now, folks look askance at families with more than three.
Or even less. Once, one of my coworkers was pregnant with her third child, and my supervisor whispered to me, “Can you imagine? She should just get an abortion.”