Once upon a time, on a high summer evening, a woman stood in an empty room in her home. Her husband and two daughters were off on a bike ride, but through an open window, she could hear the carefree shouts of neighbor children. And thus, she couldn’t stop herself: Andrew, she called out, in the vacant room that could become a nursery…yes, on this evening trembling with green breezes, slanting sunlight…the name chosen for a son, even before college. She did feel a bit crazy standing there, alone, calling for a child who didn’t exist…but she got hold of herself, leaving the room that might someday become a nursery.
And why? This woman already had a perfect family…and she was almost 40. But there was that thought…you only live once.
THE HISTORY
Of course the woman was me, and the catharsis of that summer night created an even stronger desire to have another child. With some tears, laughter and the dubious argument that our midlife crisis should not be a snappy red convertible but another child, I convinced my husband. And being a numbers guy, he pointed out the 50% possibility. No problem. We picked out a name for a girl too.
I got my wish, less than 2 years later–Andrew was born. There must have been some nameless force inside me, propelling us forward. In some ways, wanting a child, then being blessed with one, often happens that way. And though this post emphasizes all the positives, after the birth I actually went back to school, became an RN, schooled myself in the risks of pregnancy over 40: increased chance of miscarriage, fetal anomalies, infertility problems. With a friend, I even wrote a book about it, and though it was never published, the upside of this decision far outweighed the downside. Plus, at that time, the National Center for Health Statistics was stating: in American women ages 40 to 44, birthrates have hit their highest point since 1967. Births have also become increasingly common among women in their late 30s. YES!
OLDER WOMEN HAVING CHILDREN
Even today, many women wait to have children, realizing the positive aspects of having a career, insuring a strong economic foundation before having a family. And thus women like me have forged the pathway for older moms having babies. We made the decision to not care if when preschool began, someone might think the grandmother had showed up instead of the mother. The current culture enfolds us, reminds us to fight grey hairs, keep the body trim, flexible…the latter being easily accomplished when you have to chase after a two-year-old.
Our son’s presence welded our family together in a new, exciting way…despite adjustments. His sisters embraced him, both became his godparents…yes, Andrew had it made from the start. My Aunt Imelda, on hearing of my pregnancy stated: “He’ll add years to everyone’s life.” And he has. His grandmothers were thrilled, eager to experience the first word, the first step of a grandchild once again. Children just fill you up, pull you into their world.
Because I was an older mom, my son once said that his oldest sister is the luckiest, because she will always have had more time with me. He knows I won’t be here forever, and would his sister agree? I’m not going to ask her!
- he says he wouldn’t trade this older mom, even if I couldn’t run the rapids like Meryl Streep in THE RIVER WILD;
- he taught me about legos, Game Boys, guitar riffs and appreciating music of the 70s 80s and 90s that had passed me by;
- I never minded when: I found guitar pics in the dryer; he changed my screen saver to read: I LOVE ANDREW; we had open talks about sex; and he refused to part with the remembrances of his childhood (what a gift that these things meant so much to him, and yes, we have the room to store it all)
- and finally, he taught me once again, that yes, we all belong to each other!
MOTHERS SHED YEARS WHILE KEEPING UP
There is no doubt, our son kept us young. John became a Boy Scout leader, went on camp-outs, complete with raccoons invading his tent. I did a short stint of rappelling during scout camp, rolling down a hill like I was only nine, and numerous times sledding and hiking. Final report: no broken bones!!
But then the most amazing thing happened, a small thing, but it touched me…Andrew was taking a tennis lesson; I was sitting in the bleachers listening to the thump, thump of the ball and reading a magazine. Then later, I got distracted, was just staring into space…and then hearing the name HAVEY. Of course it was his coach calling to Andrew, urging him on, saying something like way to go HAVEY.
But my skin tingled, my heart rate increased…I was back on a Chicago park bench with my girlfriends, waiting to hear that name blow across the baseball field or the tennis court. Waiting for the love of my life to show up with his friends, John Havey.
At that moment, I had been a HAVEY for most of my life. But when I looked up to see Andrew swinging his racket, that same deep love extended back to him, to my son, to this child of an older mom. Because I know he will inspire my heart, keep me young.
As another older mom wrote: Motherhood is a big tent and it matters little if you step inside at 18 or 40, or somewhere in between.*
ALL THE POSITIVES
What did matter was my desire to grow and change with this child. To open up to new experiences, to adjust to thought patterns and ideas that might never have presented a challenge had my husband and I not taken up the role of parent again. And it’s all good–it’s all amazing. We have thrived under the big tent of parenthood.
And now Andrew and Amy can begin to feel these same emotions…because they have Arthur, our grandson, who joins our other amazing grandchildren and even offers a WAVE…these are the Blessings of this Christmas Season.
