Menopause Full Circle: How Bout Dem Apples?

Holy shit, I just had the craziest realization. Hear me out: menopause is basically my second trimester all over again, minus the glow, plus the hot flashes. The same weird cravings, twenty years later. Menopause cravings are apparently just pregnancy déjà vu. Mind. Officially. Blown.

From Cigarettes to Chalupas

When I first found out I was pregnant, I tossed my Parliament Lights in the trash and immediately started flirting with the Taco Bell drive-thru. (Classy beginnings, I know.)

I’ll never forget this phone call with my mom after leaving my OBGYN:

Mom: “How was your appointment?”
Me: “Fine. She told me I’m gaining too much weight… Hold on, Mom…yes, can you please super-size that?”

True story.

The Honeycrisp Obsession (Then and Now)

By my second trimester, my salty Chalupa obsession morphed into a honeycrisp apple frenzy. Like, I was in apple mania. They didn’t replace my Nacho Bell Grande runs, but they were definitely part of the lineup.

Fast forward to now, Menopauseville, FL, and guess what? I’m back on my Honeycrisp bullshit. Trader Joe’s has these oversized, juicy, tasty AF apples and I’ve been inhaling them for months. When my son swings by, I’m like: “Want some Honeycrisps?” He’s always like: “No, Mom.” Meanwhile, I’m three bites away from auditioning for Real Housewives of New York.

Hormones, Sleepless Nights, and Realizations

So why did it take me this long to connect the dots? Probably because my brain is running on 2 hours of sleep, caffeine, and sheer hormonal chaos. Classic menopause symptoms: brain fog, insomnia, and a sense of humor that’s the only thing holding me together.

Pregnancy Was No Picnic

Now, don’t get me wrong, I love my son, he’s my greatest gift. But pregnancy? I fucking hated it. I ballooned to a buck-eighty, barely waddled up stairs, lived in stretchy pants, XXL tees, and shed hair like a golden retriever in summer. Not exactly my “glowing” era.

Post-baby wasn’t much better either. I was still rocking maternity pants months later until I finally got diagnosed with ADD and started Adderall (literal life-changer).

Menopause: The Remix

But back to apples.

Is this a sign that menopause is going to be worse than pregnancy? At least my pregnancy ended with a beautiful baby. Menopause? No delivery room, no pink or blue balloons, no hospital gift basket of diapers. Just me, sweating through the night, eating apples like I’m training for an orchard marathon.

Rebirth Through Menopause

But maybe, just maybe, this is the rebirth. A second act. My own messy, hilarious renaissance.

That’s the thing about life after menopause, it doesn’t come with a bow on top, but it does come with perspective, resilience, and apparently, a produce section addiction. At least I haven’t visited my friends at the drive thru.

Dammit, I’m determined to make the most of this.