The Long View: Getting older is no surprise, but perimenopause certainly was

Our daughter is at the age now where she’s curious about our lives before. Before she came along. So we’ve taken out the photo albums – actual physical photos in real albums – and leafed through them. “You look so young mommy! Look at daddy with no beard!”

We aren’t ageing terribly – or so I’d like to think – but at nearly 50, the signs are definitely making their presence felt. It hasn’t been a sudden, sharp shock where the lines and grey hairs appeared overnight. It’s been gentler than that. You look at a face that’s so familiar and you notice a line here, looser skin there, loss of muscle tone, a sprinkle of grey hair… well, in my case, a whole lot more than a sprinkle!

Of course, growing old is more than just the outward appearance. These days my husband and myself are both feeing a little bit more, well, mortal. The squeaky joints. The niggly pains that take that bit longer to go away. The general tiredness, when one late night throws you off course for an entire week. And, for me, perimenopause. A complete hormonal upheaval, causing all kinds of physical and mental symptoms that have shaken me. I’m no stranger to hormonal turbulence, but this is different. It holds more significance somehow. And its association with a new phase of life has not passed me by.

Thankfully, for me, HRT is holding most of the symptoms at bay. But, mentally, I’m still getting used to being at an age where this is my reality. In truth, the onset of perimenopause caught me by surprise. My husband too. Somehow, it’s made us more aware of time marching on. It’s made it more official.

That passing of time has become even more obvious since we’ve become parents. I’m pretty certain that time moves faster when you have a young child, or maybe it’s that you have more of a set routine, so the days blend together that bit more. Whatever it is, we’re definitely feeling older, although that too could be down to the fact that we’ve been getting up earlier and crawling around on the floor a lot more than we ever did before – not the best combination.

Like with any long-term relationship, we’re growing older together. There’s some amount of comfort in that, in being with someone who is ageing with you but who also remembers you when you were younger, in your prime. And when we look at each other we don’t necessarily see how much older we’ve become; we see the person we fell in love with all those years ago. (Gulp! OK, I’m getting emotional now.)

I guess what I’m trying to say is there’s a privilege in being with the person you love as you both get older. And it’s not something we should take for granted.

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