Highway to Hormone Hell

Since my first pregnancy, I have always been known to say “Hormones are the worst things EVER.” If you’ve been through a pregnancy, you know the physical and emotional changes your body experiences from the minute that sperm implants itself into that unassuming little egg, to the post-birth months. Just like any other part of your body, when hormones are working properly, it’s fantastic: voluptuous boobs, silky, bountiful hair, a sexual appetite that can’t be satisfied. When they’re not, you’re pretty much screwed (and dry as a bone to boot). There’s no replacement for the real thing…for anything.

After the birth of my second child a few years ago, and as the result of some unexpected, fall-from-the-sky, ridiculous, auto-immune shift in my body, I have been told that my hormones are starting to pack up and leave en masse from the comfy home I have provided them for 40 years. Apparently, they have found somewhere more accommodating they need to be, waaaaaay before their lease was up. We had an agreement, these hormones and me. They were supposed to stick around AT LEAST until I was 50, just like they did for my mother and her mother before her. But they have cheated on me and found a new love. FAR away from me.

So let me tell you the lurch this has left me in. Aside from the research, doctor hunting, book reading, Googling, testing, blood draws, doctor visits, vitamins, supplements, supposed natural hormone replacement therapy, tooth sensitivity, bone and joint pain, psychotic mood swings, hay hair, facial skin sagging, uncontrollable fits of rage/sobbing/laughter (sometimes all in the same hour), itchiness, bitchiness, zombie sleep, memory loss, no monthly periods (never thought I would miss that) and just plain irritation, I (and my doctor) have concluded that I should go back on the birth control pill. At 40 years old. I am back on the pill. Yes I am.

Since I have been told that I am way too young to be almost depleted of hormones, after much soul searching and advice seeking, the pill is the much-needed, short-term answer for me at the moment. As I deal with all of the changes in my body and what my next, long-term step will be, I have to maintain some humor about it all; it helps me cope and make heads or tails of how my body has let me down.

As such, I’ve come up with some terms to help explain to you, the Period Pollys out there with your loyal hormones still settled comfortably in your body, what it will be like when you, yes YOU, will inevitably be in the same boat. Brace yourself. It’s not pretty.

Hormone Hair – the bone dry, crackling, bushy stiffness of a head of hair that despite how much Moroccan Oil, Argan Oil, Olive Oil, leave-in conditioner, pomades, goopy conditioners or shine serums you fruitlessly slather on, will NOT help. Your hair decides to declare independence from you, and do what it damn well pleases. NO. MATTER. WHAT.


Hormone Hysterics – the erratic mood swings that can come fast and furious, like you’re in a video game swerving desperately to avoid being hit by asteroids but never stand a chance in hell. This can range from exorcist mode to laughing fits about nothing. All within an hour. And continue like this for days and days and….


Hormone Hole – the black void that is now your brain because you can’t remember jack shit if your life depended on it. You can’t even form a sentence sometimes and just mumble and fumble your way through a conversation.


Hormone Haze – the fog you walk around in day after day because your body is electrically alive at night when it should be sleeping its way into much needed oblivion. Sometimes, you are lucky if you get four or five hours of sleep per night.


Hormone Hold-out - this is what you put your poor husband through – the one who has been given a back seat to your non-existent sex drive. You never want to have sex because you never get the URGE – or even THINK about it. It’s the absolute LAST thing on your mind. And when you force yourself because you know you should – for many reasons that you’re just too young to ignore – it’s just not the same. It doesn’t feel the same; it doesn’t have the same life. It’s just an arid desert with tumbleweed rolling by; an environment not equipped to support anything that comes its way (no pun intended).

Well, you get the idea.

So come with me on this ride down Hormone Highway as I maneuver my way.
Next exit: 7,224,856 miles.

-Cathy