I haven’t had a period for ninety-nine days. I know this because I’ve set up my iPhone health app to keep track. Once I started having menstrual cycles twice a month, I thought this app would be a good idea. Turns out, I was right.

My last period began November 2, 2020, right before my husband’s fiftieth birthday. We used to “run red lights,” but we both declined a bloody act of intimacy. That’s not the “remember that time” either of wanted to have for such a monumental occasion. With age, comes wisdom…or maybe priorities shift.

So, I bled profusely as I have the past two years. I’ve grown used to these out-of-the-blue menstrual cycles reminiscent of CSI scenes.

But after the November one ended, there were no more.

I silently rejoiced. No more spending eight to ten dollars on pads. No more dirty looks from my husband every time I threw another box in the shopping cart.

“Didn’t you just buy some last week?” he would ask.

I stopped answering. Didn’t he realize I was wearing a pad everyday just in case my menstrual cycle began?

Each day, I wiped myself clean and did a little bathroom happy dance because there were no remnants of pink or red.

Nothing.

Perimenopause is the bomb! Do people still say the bomb? Anywho, period-free days turned into weeks, which turned into months! I hadn’t had a period in three months, and I was feeling a bit liberated.

I reveled in my perimenopausal life until February 8, 2021.

Tuesday, February 9th, to my dismay, menstruation had returned with an extra-special cycle, one that lasted beyond seven days.

At first, I was a little worried. According to my progesterone cream directions, I was to stop using it during a cycle. I was afraid for what would happen.

But there was nothing to fear.

Those period days were the most blissful I’d experienced in a long time. It seemed my hormones leveled off during that week. I got some of the best sleep I’d ever had since this whole ordeal began. There were no night sweats and no hot flashes. I’d never been so happy to have a period in my life.

Still, I knew when it was still there after day seven, that was odd. I told myself that if I continued to menstruate past day ten, then I’d call the gynecologist. That’s what Google said to do anyway. Apparently, anything after seven days is cause for concern, and there may be other reasons a woman has what’s called a long period.

But I didn’t have to call anyone. On day eleven, it stopped. Just like that. And just like that, I returned to waking up mid-morning, spreading progesterone cream on my body, and taking an extended-release melatonin pill.

Forget what I said above, perimenopause and its unpredictability sucks.

2/20/21 ~kg

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