Dear Old Mothers
Or, encouragement to tell those who label us only as “advanced maternal age” to suck it.
My beautiful baby girl was born just after I turned 42, which was nearly twenty years after her older sister. I’ve heard — and felt — the judgement and the slights. But you know what? We old moms are awesome. If you are an old mom, too, this is my love letter to you.
Dear Old Mothers…
You know who you are. We’re the ones they label as “advanced maternal age” — which is code for YOU ARE OLD. We’re the ones who receive questions like, “Is this your grandchild,” and comments like, “You’re really handling this well.”
We get smiles and nods as we carry our babies into doctor’s appointments with our graying hair falling haphazardly across our baggy eyes, hands clutching our coffees, and bodies moving in a constant sway to calm our frazzled babe who has decided the car is the seventh circle of hell on a Tuesday morning.
But you know what, moms?
You are a superhero. A Jedi Master. You’re freaking Yoda.
I’ve entered my second cycle of motherhood with a newborn nearly 20 years after my first, and it’s awesome. Tiring, but awesome. I’m having to relearn half of what I thought I remembered — babies sleep on their backs now and cribs no longer have drop-down sides, FYI — while other things come so much easier than they did in my twenties.
Seriously. Who trusted me with an infant when I was 22? God had a perverse sense of humor. I mean, she lived, and she’s a pretty cool human being but still. It could have gone south, fast.
We get it better than they do.
These days are filled with a different kind of peace. I’m no longer sweating the small stuff, and you shouldn’t either.
Who cares if that twenty-something twiggy bitch thinks you are crazy for having a child in your 40s? You are, but so is the world, in general, these days. (Uh, we elected a reality television star as the leader of the free world. ← proof)
We can see the humor in a 3 am blowout diaper while our husband sleeps peacefully. We just channel that into a dream of the world’s most epic April Fool’s Day prank that we’ll forget before the holiday rolls around again (because OLD.)
We don’t worry about our boobs sagging after breastfeeding because, joke’s on you, they already do.
We put our hot flashes to good use keeping our babies warm while they are learning to regulate their own body temperature in the outside world.
We are masters at using our life situations to our advantage. That’s one gift that time has given us — we have experience.
But best of all…
We have the perspective to enjoy EVERY. SINGLE. MOMENT. of this adventure because we realize that the spilled milk is such a bargain to pay for the memories. This fantastic ride is something that some of us didn’t think we’d get to enjoy again — or at all — so we don’t take a single second for granted. That’s the biggest prize for this fight.
Rock on, old moms. You got this.
Now, go take a walk or do some yoga because you’re not getting any younger, and you’ve got a lifetime of memories to create for the next generation. Time to get busy.
But don’t forget to stretch or you’ll hurt tomorrow. I’ll be here with my stash of Icy Hot if you need it.
What’s your story? I’d love to hear where you rock or where you struggle. Share it with me in the comments below.
And don’t forget to clap if you enjoyed this article! Your support will help more people read my work. And, we can all use a laugh about our oldness once in a while.
Stephanie Pitcher Fishman is a writer, blogger, and mom living with chronic illness, a mid-life baby, and a coffee addiction. She writes about fake people (fiction), dead people (family history and genealogy), and sick people (herself included.) Read more at writerbloggermom.com, and don’t forget to say hi on Twitter.
