I belong to a lineage of resilient women who celebrated motherhood in their 40s. My maternal grandmother, mother to thirteen children, welcomed my mother into the world at the age of 42. Then, it was my mother who brought me into the world when she was 40. Embracing this chain of coincidence, I discovered I was expecting my son when I was 40, and he arrived just three days before my 41st birthday. It’s as if my foremothers paved the path I now tread.
For a myriad of reasons – some profound, others poignant – motherhood wasn’t a part of my journey in my 20s. While many around me embraced marriage and babies, I chose a different path. I wasn’t ready emotionally, physically, or financially to navigate the immense transformation that motherhood entails. Even amidst societal norms, I chose to honor my timeline, knowing that starting a family would occur when I was ready.
My 30s were a kaleidoscope of global travel and career milestones. I reveled in these experiences, and the desire for motherhood lay dormant. However, at the age of 37, an internal shift occurred. Like a puzzle piece falling into place, I realized I yearned to become a mother. Then, Matt entered my life, and it felt as if the universe was weaving a beautiful tapestry for us.
When I discovered I was expecting on October 28, 2022, our joy knew no bounds. Despite reading that conception could take up to a year due to my age, we were blessed with our baby in just two months.
Visiting my OBGYN in the initial days, we were cautioned about potential risks due to my age. Reading the literature and stumbling down the anxiety-ridden rabbit holes of Google searches about ‘risks of pregnancy after 40’ was a daunting experience. But I soon realized that every pregnancy is as unique as the woman experiencing it. My emotional well-being became paramount, and I decided to silence the external noise and lean into faith and optimism. All I could do was heed my doctor’s advice, nurture my health, and trust in the love and support encircling me.
Except for a bout of food poisoning, which led to an encounter with C Diff during my second trimester (a tale for another post), I am grateful to have had a great pregnancy. My doctor considered me low-risk due to my well-being, even with my age being a factor. I was blessed with a natural birth, and our son arrived in our lives at 40 weeks, a healthy bundle of joy.
In sharing my journey, my intention is not to dismiss the struggles and heartbreak some women face in their quest to become mothers. Rather, I hope to inspire with my story, to assure women that age is but a number and miracles can happen when we least expect them. For those in the throes of this journey, remember you are not alone. Our community is here to support and uplift you in whatever way we can. Your journey is unique, your strength is immense, and your dreams are valid.
Every woman’s path to motherhood is uniquely her own, a blend of joys, challenges, and miracles. Embrace your path, and remember, you are stronger than you know, braver than you believe, and loved more than words can express.