Four years ago, I started waking at 5:37am.
This absolutely sucked. I wasn’t getting nearly enough sleep, and the exhaustion felt bone-deep. No matter what I tried, I could not sleep past 5:37am.
In order to not completely hate everything, I created a morning routine I loved. If I couldn’t sleep, at least I spent the first hour of my day drinking coffee and reading.
I brought up my sleep problem at every single doctor appointment. It was just one item on a list of annoying ailments that came on like a light switch during my second pregnancy— debilitating joint pain, unexplained weight gain, dry skin, heart palpitations, night sweats.
The things I heard from those doctors?
Your labs are fine, there’s nothing wrong with you
You’re too young for perimenopausal symptoms (lol tell that to my Instagram feed!)
You’re a mom now and not making yourself a priority
Try Weight Watchers
This is just life
I’d leave these appointments in tears, wishing someone would just listen.
In June of 2025, I met with a new OB/GYN. When I explained I’d been told I’m “too young” for perimenopause, she stopped me. No you’re not. We’re the same age, and I’m taking things for my own symptoms.
She suggested I try hormonal birth control pills, explaining they offer a low dose of estrogen and progesterone (less than hormone replacement therapy) and can help with symptoms in women who still get regular periods.
Exsqueeze me? Birth control pills?
I hadn’t thought about birth control in a long time.
My first experience with the pill dates back to high school, primarily to help with acne, terrible cramps, and quell my irrational fear that maybe you could get pregnany from frenching in a pickup truck. The prescription did make a difference, with the intoxicating side effect of making me feel Super Grown Up. I stayed on the pill for about 10 years until I switched to an IUD, which was fine until it started causing hormonal acne. When I removed that at 29, I decided my boyfriend (now husband) could share the birth control burden. I went off birth control completely. Eleven years later, my husband got a vasectomy.
Middle age me wasn’t really sure how I felt about returning to that little pack-o-pills. I asked my doctor about the risk factors, and we discussed that mine were pretty minimal. I’m not a smoker, I didn’t recall a bad reaction when I’d been on them previously.
What’s the worst that could really happen? Feeling like crap? I could stop taking them at any time.
So I started popping birth control pills again at 43.
Now: The doctor warned me that the first month might make me nauseated, but should regulate itself within six weeks or so.
And wow, was she ever right. I spent the first 30 days feeling exactly like I did during my first trimester— some days, I could barely eat anything but Ritz crackers and bubbly water. I felt malnourished, numb, and depressed. I spent the entire July 4th holiday kinda floating through the festivities. I didn’t feel like myself, and considered quitting the pill altogether.
And then my period arrived.
My fellow ovary owners, I can only describe it as magic.
I hadn’t realized just how insane Aunt Flo had become on her visits. Angry, chaotic, and hellbent on destruction. I’d spent the past few years blasting though heavy-duty tampons; ruining underwear and jeans; panicking if I couldn’t get to a bathroom every 90 minutes.
One month into The Pill 2.0, and my period felt like it had in my teens and 20s. Light. Manageable. Short.
Cute, almost.
Not only that, but I started sleeping in. Well, “sleeping in” if you count waking at 6:30am as sleeping in. But I do! Within six weeks of starting this medication, I was getting, on average, an extra 45 minutes to an hour of sleep most nights. A few weekends ago, I slept until 8:01am. WHO AM I?
Night sweats? Mostly gone.
Joint pain? I no longer feel like I’m walking on broken glass.
I swear even the red keratosis pilaris bumps on the back of my arms (IYKYK) look better.
And the nausea and general meh feelings from the medication eventually went away.
Did it fix everything? No.
But I am feeling rested for the first time in over nine years. I am feeling so much more like myself.
I know hormonal birth control is not an option for everyone. Maybe it gives you migraines, or maybe you find that your “inner bitch” becomes your “outer bitch”, which is something I’ve heard a few women complain of. Hey, maybe you just want to try the rhythm method like my catholic grandparents did (they had 12 kids). But if my list of symptoms sound familiar, it’s worth asking your doctor.
The pill is currently experiencing a large amount of criticism.
Notably from crunchy influencers, who will tell you things like birth control pills destroy your divine feminine energy, or are inherently dangerous, or will mess with your fertility. It’s easy to demonize Big Pharma and our medical system because they’ve let so many women down (myself included). You are allowed to believe whatever you want, but it’s also important to acknowledge what this medication has given women: a modicum of control of our bodies— whether it be in preventing pregnancy, or navigating hormonal shifts in mid-life.
I think when we’ve never had to live without the pill (“we” = millennials), it can be hard to fully grasp what a gift it is. For me, it’s been life-changing.
And what’s even better? I finally found a doctor that listened.
As always, this newsletter is a treat for my inbox. I laughed out loud reading about the pickup truck- I once got the morning after pill because I got semen on my leg :)
Best part 100% doctor who listened and offered an option! After 3 years of going to doctors and having them say you Jsut need to be on meds forever my primary said this is ridiculous and sent me to a new doc/surgeon who reviewed all those records and said I don’t even need to see you if you want a hysterectomy lets schedule. She said it was so needed after surgery and seeing the images. I will forever sing her praises for listening to me and not just saying every woman deals with this.