Monday, November 14, 2005

How Old Is Your Mom?

When I first read that scientists had discovered a way to reverse menopause, the reactionary part of me thought, "Oh, great. Here's another excuse to keep women barefoot and pregnant and slaves to their biology for the rest of their lives!"

Then a slightly less reactionary part of me (but not much less) thought, "Oh, great. This could mean another 20 years of getting your period." What woman would choose to experience another 20 years of cramps, PMS, ruined sheets and buying tampons, pads and Pamprin when you could have that fresh and panty-liner-free feeling full-time?

Just think: post-menopause, you can go hang-gliding and do all those fun things girls do without worrying about "feeling secure."

By the way, why is the government still charging women tax on feminine hygiene products? Why do they not see that feminine protection is an absolute necessity, like food? Why are they taxing our biology? I guess the government knows that in a pinch, a woman could always filch a couple of safety pins and a roll of toilet paper and fabricate herself a little homemade, tax-free nappy. Or if she completely wanted to avoid paying taxes, she could just stay at home and pretend her futon was a giant tax-free sanitary pad. You see these futons all the time, being dragged out of houses when women move from place to place, the movers looking discreetly away while the woman explains, "Oh, those stains. Those are from when I cut my finger accidentally... eh hmm...with a chainsaw."

Maybe in a couple of years I'll feel differently. Maybe in a decade or two, when I first start experiencing those hot flashes and what society perceives as the last vestiges of my femininity sadly slipping away, I'll be on my knees, begging the doctor, "Gimme one of those pills! My God, make me feel like a real woman again! My family is treating me like I'm just Buddy Ebsen with a wig!"

I am assuming I'll be acting in this emotional way because by the time I make this request, I will be experiencing the mood swings associated with menopause. Of course, part of being a real woman is experiencing menopause, and if you really want a child that badly at age 50, maybe you should consider adopting.

One aspect of menopausal reversal that I find particularly disgusting is the way it caters to that selfish baby-boomer point of view: "The world is all about me and my baby." Just think of all the little orphan babies who won't be adopted because a woman chooses vanity over philanthropy. Aren't there too many people on the planet already without extending our Western imperialist concept about tyranny over nature to planning even more pregnancies?

Also, I don't think anybody has really thought out the consequences of having all these really old moms around. I can see it now. The geriatric mother at the drugstore counter: "I'd like a box of Pampers for my daughter and a box of Depends for me."

Then there will be women who choose to give birth simply to provide themselves with a free caregiver by the time they're 70. There could be an entire generation of children around 11 years old who were born to parent their parents, pushing them around in wheelchairs that are the equivalent of giant strollers. Then there's the whole idea of mom's mind getting feeble, or mom going deaf, as in, "What baby crying? I don't hear any baby crying. Did I have a baby?"

Menopause reversal could also create a whole new generation of orphans. It caters to the delusion most of us live under, that we are somehow immortal: "Oh, death won't happen to me. Death is something that happens to someone else." Imagine this touching scenario, as told by a geriatric mom to her seven-year-old child: "I know you're only seven, but Mommy has to die now. Mommy is too old! I'm sorry, it's a biological certainty... things are getting dim... you're on your own, kid... goodbye."

1 comment:

  1. ingrid1:35 AM

    Hmmm...I have black cohash if you need it honey. I agree with you though. No woman in her right mind would want a kid at 50. Doesn't the government have anything else to do. But then again my mother was 40 when she had me.