Could the end of ‘that time of the month’ be related to that time of the year?

My reproductive system is closing up shop.

But like a bad Going Out of Business sale, it keeps hanging on beyond its actual usefulness.

We’re down to the hangers and light fixtures here, but we’ve still got signs out front screaming “Final Clearance! Cash Only! All Sales Final!”

Four years ago, I announced in this space that I had entered perimenopause at age 43. Then 15 months ago that I suspected I had my last period. Perimenopause was over, I declared, and I officially was menopausal.

[At the time, my Beloved thought me crazy to announce such things in my blog, but I’ll repeat what I wrote then:

Yes. It’s natural. Like, “I had a cold last week.” And I feel a little like a scientist … . Like a good scientist, I’m sharing the data from my experiment.

But I also might be guilty as charged: Crazy. Hormone fluctuations will do that to you. If you don’t like discussion of subjects related to the miracle of the female reproductive system, you’re hereby excused to watch a cat video or read a tearful interview with an Olympian who didn’t make the podium. Ahem.]

In any case, my declarations were premature. Aunt Flo was not done with me yet. In fact, I had reasonable regular monthly cycles of 24 to 33 days throughout most of last year.

But the reason I’m writing about this subject again is because I want to report the long silences in my cycle that may be seasonally related.

In late 2012/early 2013, I went 66 days between periods and then 106 days.

Then in late 2013/early 2014, I went 154 days, a drought which ended unceremoniously last week. (Yeah, I know, it’s like being 13 again. A girl goes for years thinking, “will I ever get my period?” and then it comes at the most unexpected moment. Now, after 6 months without menses, I literally took the emergency tampons out of my purse. And then, bam, two days later I’m making a 6 a.m. trip to Walgreen’s. In the words of a Minnesotan, uffda.)

So now I’m wondering if my cycles (or lack thereof) are seasonally related. Are my inactive ovaries reflecting the barren landscape of the winter months?

Before you start questioning my sanity like my Beloved, check this out: Nyxie over at HealthBoards.com also suspects a seasonal connection. Oxford University Press even published a paper on the subject. [It notes, and I quote, “scarce data are available to date about the exact nature of environmental and/or lifestyle determinants of the menopause syndrome.” See? I’m sharing this information in the interest of science.]

I’m always trying to find connections to the universe’s chaos where none exist, so it’s entirely possible there is no relationship whatever between the seasons or the moon or the outdoor temps and my meaningless little internal song and dance.

But maybe there is. And if your reproductive system is in the midst of its final clearance sale, you might want to know.