Courtesy of Blake Turck
I became a first-time mom at 43 years old after six painful years of infertility and miscarriages, including three years of IVF cycles. My doctor assured me I was actually young for fertility treatments in New York City, where I live. But according to everything else, and everywhere else, I was "old."
As a New York City native, I didn't feel the urge to settle down until my 30s. I met my boyfriend at 31. We traipsed around the city and enjoyed our life and each other before getting married half a decade later. I wanted to be a mom someday, but it never dawned on me that it might happen at an age I'd be labeled "geriatric" by medical professionals.
It's a frustrating term, considering more people than ever are having babies well into their 40s. According to CDC data, the birth rate rose by 4% among those 40-44 since 2021, and births for those 45 and older went up 12% since 2015.
This rise in older mothers is attributed to several things, including the prioritization of higher education, career, and financial concerns associated with childcare costs. I didn't plan on being an "older mom," but now that I am, I've found there are plenty of advantages to having a baby later in life.
People often proclaim that having a baby provides fulfillment. But during my long journey to have one, I learned that finding purpose within myself first was more important. Infertility is all-encompassing. I'd cultivated a strong sense of being, but infertility made me initially doubt everything about my identity. Over time, I learned that finding contentment in other areas of my life was imperative — for my sanity, and for the will to keep moving through the process.
Some outlets where I found it were swimming, watching horror and thriller movies, and writing, especially. These things helped restore parts of my confidence I thought I'd lost.
Self-assurance is an important trait to teach a child, and though I wouldn't wish fertility struggles on anyone, experiencing them helped instill resilience in me that's necessary for raising my daughter. It was part of my growth as a whole person and taught me to believe in something bigger than myself.
In my 20s, I traveled to South America, Italy, Spain, and other countries on countless girls' trips. I spent a decade being single, prioritizing style and my social life. In my 30s, I enjoyed being a devoted girlfriend in a loving, grown-up relationship. Nights out, vacations, and many evenings were reserved for watching horror movies with our Goldendoodle.
Now, my husband and I spend most nights on the couch with our 3-month-old. Not only do I not fear missing out, but I've never felt more at home, literally and symbolically. Usually, a greater number of years on Earth is accompanied by the capacity to find satisfaction in stillness.
Becoming a mother later in life can come with shaming. Yes, I may have slightly less energy to run after her, and yes, I'll be 61 at her high school graduation (which still isn't exactly old). I'm sure there's no shortage of people who would jump to remind me of these things if I sought their opinions. As an older mom, I may have less agility, but I also have the benefit of more life experience.
I'm definitely wiser now than I was 10 years ago. I've navigated loss, love, and adulthood. I've nurtured myself, as well as my partner, and during that time, acquired certain instincts and traits that will undoubtedly make me a better mother today than I would've been at 33.
Everything I've been through — losing my own mom at 29, learning how to be in a successful marriage, and continuing fertility treatments, even when they seemed hopeless — has allowed me to possess a level of certitude. Parenthood includes feelings of doubt or unworthiness at times. It also includes selflessness, a more achievable trait after you've lived a good amount of time focused on your own advancements.
I don't identify solely as a mother, but after spending 43 years learning about myself, I'm more excited to spend the next chapter discovering and nurturing someone else.
