I found myself pregnant in my mid-thirties, a years into marriage, right at the beginning of the pandemic. At 35, I was considered a high-risk case due to my “advanced maternal age,” history of miscarriage, and bicornuate uterus (which carried the risk of pre-term labor, premature birth, and other complications). At this point, my pregnancy was already considered “geriatric.”
While I know that I am in the company of many more women in my generation who are delaying pregnancy and choosing to have kids much later, I am sometimes caught up with worries that are unique to being an “older” mom. What if I don’t live to see my son getting married and having his own kids? What if I’m not able to work long enough to cover my son’s college tuition fees? What if my strength struggles to keep up with the demanding pace of parenthood?
If you’ve asked these questions yourself, here are a few things I tell myself when plagued with these anxieties.
I am one of many wives who have been asked, “Ano, meron na ba? You’re not getting any younger!” by many-a-“concerned”-acquaintance over the years. Even with more couples now choosing to have kids later, people somehow feel that “older” parents miss out on the benefits of having kids in your mid- to late twenties.
While I can’t deny that I sometimes look at younger couples with multiple kids and think wistfully of how many more years they’ll have with their kids (and future grandkids!), I don’t feel disadvantaged as an “older” mom.
Whether you choose to (or by circumstance) have kids early or late, you’ll have to deal with pros and cons that are unique to your context. It’s just a matter of “choosing your hard” and learning to embrace everything that comes with it. Both are valid and equally meaningful choices.
When I had a consult with an OB right before getting married (I was 31 at the time), I was told that I should have tried for a baby at 27 and that I was “too late into the game”. She said it so dismissively that I felt conscious, insecure, and even ashamed of my age.
I remember walking out of that clinic feeling like I did something wrong. That made an impact on me emotionally and added to my reluctance to have kids.
Hindsight has graciously helped me realize that the success of my parenting isn’t rooted in how early or late I became a mom or dad.
Of course, we can’t ignore the fact that for women in particular, the risks increase the later you give birth. While I’ve only given birth once, I could certainly feel the strain in my body at 35. I can never forget how uncomfortable I was in my third trimester!
In this particular season as both a stay-at-home and full-time working mom, there are also days when I really feel my age. Mom duties take up my time during the day, and I work evenings until the wee hours of the morning.
When I wake up after days of running on less than 4 hours of sleep, I feel so bone-tired that I don’t know how I could make it through another day with such limited bandwidth. These are the times when I would think to myself, “This wouldn’t be as big a struggle if I were doing this in my late twenties, when it was easier to recover and bounce back.”
Then there are the comments from other people, whether relatives or acquaintances. “Hindi mo ba naisip na baka hindi mo na maabutan ang mga apo mo?” “Naku, hindi mo na masasabayan mga anak mo kapag malikot na sila.”
It’s so easy to become insecure about our parenting when we allow others’ opinions to dictate our perspective. But at the end of the day, I am always reminded that the first and only witness (that matters) of my parenting is my child. And when it comes to the impact of my parenting on him, my age doesn’t really matter.
He won’t remember how out of breath I was chasing after him, but he’ll remember how mommy set aside other things to play with him and make him feel loved and cherished.
He won’t remember that I was 39 when he turned four, but he’ll remember how mommy got the cake he wanted for his school party and made time to be there.
He won’t remember how many strands of gray hair I now have after having him, but he’ll remember how mommy smells (and how it comforts him) when they do their bedtime cuddles.