The Ramblings of a Menopausal Woman

A little update to my last post. I had the ultrasound, still no baby. I will need to have my blood rechecked for a third time to confirm (again) that I am not actually pregnant. Sounds like I’m gonna be birthing a big old case of “the change”, aka menopause. With a side of kidney stones, of course. Just for some added flavor.

I thought I would give you an idea of what went through my head when I heard the words “because of your positive pregnancy test”. As a 50 year old woman in 2025, it’s a hell of lot different than the last time I heard those words.

So there I was, doped up on morphine, still in pain, and sitting in the ER waiting room when the PA walked up and started talking about how they were changing my imaging plan because of my positive pregnancy test. I had literally just sent a text to my husband and told him to enjoy lunch and hang out with our dog for a bit because I was still waiting for my CT. I couldn’t text him and tell him I was pregnant. I needed him there, in person, but didn’t want him to think something else was wrong. I waited about 15 minutes and sent him a message “You coming back soon?” I am sure he was so confused because I had just told him it was fine to stay at home for a little bit, and we only live a few minutes away from the hospital. He probably just thought I was doped up and bored.

Nope, I was freaking the fuck out! No one told me at the hospital that it was likely that it wasn’t real and not to stress out about it. No one told me it was common for menopausal or perimenopausal women to show positive on a pregnancy test when they weren’t actually pregnant. Now I’m in the lobby, working out every scenario in my doped up brain. Because people are so scared to talk about things like menopause, or periods, or miscarriages I was sitting there scared and confused. These are our bodies, and we need to be honest about how they work! We need to talk about them until the strange things that happen as we age are common knowledge.

What many people reading this may not realize is I have only had one other positive pregnancy test in my life, and even that one took a lot of work. We tried for years on our own, we tried IUI, and then we eventually got one shot at IVF. That was the one that took. I finally saw that little “+” symbol. Unfortunately, that happiness was short lived and our baby did not make it. It was devastating. I cannot even describe the feeling. To add insult to injury my body did not want to get rid of the fetus and I technically had to have an abortion even though my baby had probably died about a week prior. So when I heard “positive pregnancy test” again my mind went into overdrive.

My first thought was, and I am about 80% sure the first words out of my mouth, “I’m sorry but no, that’s not a thing.” I was thinking there must be a mix up in the lab, after all they were busy. It seemed more likely. I did make the joke that I would have accepted them telling me I had brain worms before pregnant. They did immediately test to confirm with a blood sample.

My second thought was, “When do they legally start counting how many weeks pregnant you are?” Normally, you start the count at the first day of your last period. Meaning if someone started their period on Jan 1st and find out they are pregnant on Feb 14th, then technically you are about 6 weeks pregnant. As we all know, laws around pregnancy have changed drastically in the past few years. Well, my last period was in 2020, meaning I was around 260 weeks pregnant. Would any state in the country treat me if I started having complications? If it was real, and I lost the baby again, would I have to wait until I was septic before anyone would help me if my body didn’t want to get rid of the fetus again? Would I need to move to a blue state to make sure I didn’t die? After all, I had almost every high risk complication and the odds of a live birth are slim to none. (My husband and I eventually did the calculations and I think the odds of live birth were less than 1%.)

Then I thought that if it’s real, there was a good chance I was going to have to go through the worst day in my life all over again. If we decided to keep it, then I could lose it again and I would have to go through all that pain and heartbreak again. If we decided it we couldn’t take the risk, then I had to go through a whole different level of heartbreak I wasn’t sure I was ready for.

I don’t know man, there was so much my brain was trying so hard to process. Meanwhile the nice couple that had been sitting next to us during our many hours at the ER were elated to hear a surprise “miracle” pregnancy test. I don’t blame them. They had been sitting there for 24 hours waiting for a room to be available. I was probably the most exciting thing at the ER. The miracle baby. One of the nurses became invested if it was real or not. I do remember the following interaction with that nurse when I finally got discharged hours later:

Nurse: Well, is it real?

Me: Not sure but as of now I’m a 50 year old infertile woman who’s technically pregnant.

I have to say this probably was one of the weirdest days of my life. I think I can say, something changed in me that day. Here I had this thing that I always wanted. I was finally told there’s a chance I could have it after hearing for two decades there’s not much of a chance. Here’s something I really thought I had mourned as never being a possibility and eventually changed how I charted my life going forward. Now you’re telling me I might get that thing, but now it might kill me or destroy me mentally.

I went through all of this in the time it took the doctor to say this until I saw Clay maybe 30 minutes later? I don’t know, my sense of time in that place wasn’t great. I had stepped into some kind of upside down land. Maybe that’s what happens when ADHD people get morphine. Does your brain just chart out every possible option? No? Just me?

I cannot tell you the relief I felt when I saw my best friend and husband walk through the doors. I knew that Clay would be there for me. I knew I wasn’t alone, and I knew that he would do whatever it took to make sure I would be okay. I was grateful that I have a person that I could truly count on. I knew it would all work out okay. The same way it always does, when we work together as a team.

Anyhoo. Of course there’s more, but blogs are long and people get bored. So I’ll split it up as best I can but I feel like me telling Clay and how we handled it is it’s own post. Added bonus, I might add a post or two about my adorable animals. You know, lighten the mood. Sprinkle a little cat video or dog in a hat pictures in the world. A little “sparkle sparkle bitches”. I’m not really sure what this blog is yet anyway.