My Story
Part 1: The Wake-up Call
Part 2: How Did I Get Here?
Part 3: The Birth of Flower Power Mom
Part 1: The Wake-up Call
One day, back in 2008 when I was still forty-seven—and my son Alex was five and daughter Lizzie two—I was delivered a life-changing blow. Or, you could call it a wake-up crack in the head.
In that honeyed-little-kid voice, Alex suddenly piped up and said to me: “Hey, Mama, do you know what you’re going to be when I grow up?”
I was in the kitchen (where I usually live these days, but not barefoot because washing the kitchen floor is somewhere in the proximity tooth-brushing the knobs on the toilet base on the domestic priority list), practicing the fine art of domestic “multi-tasking”.
Ergo, I was mentally AWOL. It was a good time and place for a kid to nail me if they happened upon a fortuitous opening. And that’s just what he had that very night. A fortuitous opening. And he took it.
Vaguely amused, I asked, “No, Alex, what am I going to be when you grow up?”
“My grandma!” he replied, grinning triumphantly from ear to ear, evidently expecting a round of applause.
I froze on the spot with a spaghetti spoon in mid-dangle, thunderstruck. As if the moment were divinely ordained, I remembered the oft quoted verse from the bible: “Out of the mouths of babes and sucklings, thou has perfected praise”
“Grandma…,” repeated the grinner. Suddenly I saw the light.
Everything that had made me often and inexplicably miserable, profoundly exhausted, a parental outsider in the pre-school playground, paranoid about disease, dying, and mortality in general, all laced with nostalgic longing for a dose of familiar camaraderie lost somewhere in my youth—well, it all boiled down to that one, simple truth: I was mother to my five and three-year-old children. And I was already old enough to be their grandmother.
Part 2: How Did I Get Here?
Let me begin with the single, most important, axiom of midlife motherhood:
No woman kicks back in her twenties and plans the course of her life just to cram in popping a few kids sometime after she’s forty or fifty, like a sad afterthought—the “red-haired stepchild” of life’s priorities.
It doesn’t work like that. Having a child is—and always will be—the most important choice of a woman’s life.
I was born in 1960, a child of the Flower Power generation. It would be the next millennium before I had my first child.
The 1960’s marked the beginning of an era when women were expected to do something with their lives other than planting themselves, “barefoot and pregnant”, in the kitchen baking brownies.
Back in those days, everyone was gung-ho that some book learning and a career more lofty than bottom feeding in a corporate typing pool while waiting for a Jimmy Stewart clone to come along, should come first.
Even so, my first marriage took place at the socially correct age of twenty-six, after I’d managed a BA (Hons) in Psych. But the fairy tale ended abruptly there.
The union promptly crashed on the rocks of Failure-To-Communicate when I discovered that my (then) husband didn’t want kids—along with a host of other little unexpected surprises I won’t delve into here.
Exit stage left, at age thirty.
It then took another ten years, including some relationships best defined as “learning experiences” or even “cul-de-sacs” (not to mention the de rigeuer kissing of a few unprincely frogs) before I met the Real Deal.
There he was: Frank. My new husband. The Man-Who-Would-Be-Father. And I knew it the minute I clapped eyes on him. We were inseparable from our first date.
It was 2001. I was forty, and finally on the road to motherhood.
And I was blessed with the “mother” lode: first with a son, just before I turned forty-two in 2002 and then with a daughter, when I was almost forty-five in 2005.
Miraculously, they were conceived without the need of ART (Assisted Reproductive Technologies). I was of the blessed and fortunate few in the “grandma class” of expectant mothers.
In fact, they were created “artlessly”, with a load of love and a heaping helping of elbow grease (literally).
Now I’m pushing fifty. I’m truly a midlife mom. A Flower Power Mom.
Part 3: The Birth of Flower Power Mom
I’ve learned some hard facts since having my kids: it’s a brave new world that will judge you without a hearing on your choice to become a midlife mom.
Don’t expect anyone to cut you a break—you chose to have a child when you were supposed to be harboring a growing fear of pushing up daisies instead.
You made your (flower) bed and now you’re going to lie in it with all of the sagging cellulite, aching arthritis and second chins your body can muster. After all, you’re a misfit who refused to subjugate your maternal urges to the “natural order”.
At least, that’s what some say.
What I say is that you can’t crush a growing army. Over 40s motherhood is changing the demographic of the American—and global—family.
Despite the lack of welcome—my ineligibility to be a member of the under-40 Stepford Moms—I felt inspired to celebrate. Women having babies after forty represent the neo-liberating force of our generation.
The return of Flower Power.
The power unleashed by the Age of Aquarius—an era spawning the scientific inventions that have empowered a woman’s life to blossom after forty—a watershed moment when our liberating foremothers were already fading away.
We are Renaissance Moms.
Motherhood after forty and longer life expectancy for women are here to stay. And if we ever needed the compassion of our age-related peers (other new 40+ moms), it is here and now, in the daily trenches of midlife motherhood.
To prove the point, I tested it out:
Most any mother under the age of thirty-five who heard Alex’s “Grandma Story”, would gasp (horrified) and whisper “Oh no!”. (Like, how revolting!)
Any mother (or grandmother) over fifty would immediately fall over laughing. (What a gas!)
Reactions were defined by age.
Ergo, that single, defining moment in 2008 was the birth of a mission. Alex had woken up the so-called sleeping dragon (or old dragon, in my case).
It is a mission to reveal the truth, to share, to commiserate and, ultimately, to unveil and celebrate the secret life of Flower Power Moms, as it is lived behind closed doors.
So, welcome to the club—the Flower Power Mom Club.
It’s a place where you can find the honest reality in motherhood after 40, share the pain (bitch if you need to), strive to be your finest, remember the old days, and have some laughs together.
And, oh yeah, there are only two requirements of membership:
1. Acknowledge your gift: A mother’s fierce, tender love, entwined with a “grandmother’s” cup brimming with life’s wisdom. (How fine is that?)
2. Keep your dreams alive: remember—most of all—to “stay gold”.
(http://www NULL.amazon NULL.com/gp/product/014038572X?ie=UTF8&tag=flopowmom-20&linkCode=as2&camp=1789&creative=9325&creativeASIN=014038572X)
Angel La Liberte
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I heard you on CBC’s “The Current”….fascinating! As a 43 year old mom to 7 and 4 year-olds, I didn’t know I was “old” until my first doctors visit when I announced I’d turned the stick pink. I was then offered the “senior’s plan” as I came to call it….extra bloodwork to determine down’s syndrome, monthly ultrasounds to look for spinal cord malformations, and was read the riot act that sounded more like “Why’d you wait so long?” My kids are both beautifuland healthy and are purely the product of their parents but boy, was I shocked to find out that in the new-mommy world, 36 is not the new 26.
All I can say to your blog is…”I hear you!”
I did not know I was old either until I had my 3rd at 40. I am 41 with a 12 year old 3 year old and a 1 year old. All same marriage all w/o reproductive help. I had a career in between and 3 miscarriages. Being home is very isolating. Mostly my knees hurt and I have a lot less energy then at 28 when I had my 1st. But, muxh more patient.
Wow Angel,
I love your website and your message. As a mom of 12, my youngest was born when I was 45, I can certainly relate to everything you say. Your description of your son’s grandma comment did cause me to laugh out loud. Since I have been in the “mom business” for over 34 years, I can tell you that there are innumerable blessings that come with motherhood at any age. Our children are truly gifts. We were entrusted by God to love and shape them. Although others serve up stinging comments about older mothers, I know that God needs the special talents older mothers bring to the table.
Angel,
Love you blog. As a mom of 12, I had my youngest child at 45. I can really identify with the grandma comment. As you can imagine, I have had the experience of being in the “mom business” as both a young inexperienced mom and as the mature mother. There are innumerable blessings for moms of any age, and I would not agree that there is a “perfect” age. God entrusts our children to us, and he chooses when those blessings are given.
I smiled and laughed when I read what your son said. I had my daughter in 2001 when I was 41. Though there were some older (mid-30′s) moms in my mommy support circle, i was the elder – hah! One of my daughter’s friends moms was born the year I graduated from high school. I had to walk through my own ageism with that one! And so it goes…..
I so related and join with you in your passion-thank you for creating this site!
Wendy Silvers
Thank you for your website! I am 39 and will give birth at 40. This is my first. No ART.
Like you, I went through so much before marrying father-material and feeling ready for motherhood. I completed a university degree, travelled the world, worked in different countries, had all sorts of romances and relationships, saw and did things worthy of a film!
I know that all of this will help me be a tuned-in, compassionate mother with a good sense of humour and sense of adventure.
I love who I am at 39. I love that motherhood has arrived now. God and mother nature´s infinite wisdom..
I am 48, and have a 21 year old son in college, and a 6 year old son in 1st grade. My husband and I have been married for going on 29 years this October 2011 (high school sweethearts who married young at 20 and 21). We were married 7 years the year our first son was born. When I got pregnant with our second son I had just turned 41, and I conceived on our 21st wedding anniversary. All of our immediate friends and family were ecstatic for us (they witnessed the devastation miscarriage caused us when our older son was 10. I was in the middle of my second trimester). However, those not closely related, blood or otherwise, were not quite as happy for us. They felt no hesitation in voicing their rude opinions…like, “You are old enough to be this babies grandparents.” And other very stupid comments like, “Why on earth would you want to do the whole diapers and bottle thing again?” I would just laugh and say to them, “Yes, and when you are tired and old, and sitting in a rocking chair on your front porch, I will be out in the yard playing baseball with my kid. He will keep me young.” That usually would stop them in their tracks. I wasn’t being mean just making a statement I felt. Just like they did when they would say whatever they felt to me about being 41 and pregnant. Yes, I am exhausted at the end of every day because I have a very lively and energetic little boy that I DO keep up with…but I wouldn’t change our family dynamics for anything. It is because of him and his young age that I have as much energy as I do. If you don’t use it you lose it! No matter what your age. I got pregnant the old fashion way, so in my heart God was giving us his blessing. He does not make mistakes. Whenever we meet new people who find out we have a 21 and a 6 year old, they always look at us like we have two heads or something…then the questions start…”Oh, is this your second marriage?” or my favorite…”Oh he was an “Uh Oh!” baby.” And when we say no, we were still trying to have another child they really look at us like we are some alien species. I actually don’t get upset about the questions or comments because it is the same with anything that is not the norm. People are curious, and I enjoy telling people what a joy it is to get to be a momma again to a little guy. It truly is a whole different experience as an older mom, but not because of my age as much as that he is a totally different type of person than our first born son. I have had to regroup and parent this one in a whole different way than the first one. All people are individuals and it starts from the day they are born. Therefore as individuals we should have respect for and treat with respect those who make different choices than we do.
When I was born, my mother was 41. My sisters were 16 and 18. My father adored me and I never minded having older parents. The only downside is that now I’m a grandmother of ten and all my birth family has passed from this world.
I’m trying to complete this response and my little 8-year old is drawing my picture. It ‘s a quite difficult task because she keeps saying, ” Look my way mom, so I can draw your portrait!” I’m looking at the portrait and realize that the picture looks much like my fraternal grandmother! So, this is just a glimpse of a 51-year old mother who has a third grader. I haven’t been mistaken for her grandmother in a long while, but I can guarantee that I am the oldest mom of her classmates. This past spring at the end-of-year picnic one boy in Molly’s class commented,”Molly’s mom is old!” I then replied, “If I’m so old then watch this!” I did two of my old cheerleader stunts: a round off and a cart wheel. The little boy was impressed and he said “Not bad for an old lady!” I tell all three of my midlife b
I tell all three of my midlife-born children, “I’m not old. I’m only advanced in age.!” This is my life as a flower power mom and I truly enjoy the special opportunity of being a part of this community.
I am so happy I found this site (thx peaceful parenting).
I am now 38 and have three older children aged, 15, 13 and 12. I also have a two year old and am seriously considering another baby before I’m done!
Rockin’ website. I like your style.
Thank you all!
I am 39 and am finally ready to be a mom and trying (FUN), and am uplifted and inspired by your stories.
I look forward to adding my own story too- hopefully in 9 months!
Both my pregnancies (at 36 and now at 43) have totally unfazed my OBs. Though I was in two different cities, maybe there were enough older moms that it was commonplace? Also, both OBs were in their late 30′s and had just had a baby themselves. Besides increased testing, I wasn’t told to do anything extra. This second pg is actually healthier than my first.
The sad thing for older moms is the increased likelihood of a pg loss along the way. That is something I wish we didn’t share in common.
Well, I am 35 weeks pregnant right now. I am 42, but I look younger. My OBGYN has never acted like I am too old to be having a baby. In fact, when I told him I was interested in getting my tubes tied, he said that I should probably wait a few years because I am still young enough to have more babies. This has been a really hard pregnancy for me. I have had zero energy and lots of pain and discomfort. I am really looking forward to meeting my baby, but I will not miss being pregnant. We have two beautiful girls
who are 8 and 10. They are very excited to help out with the new baby. My husband is very excited that we got our little boy too. Things are good. We have a lot of love to share with our new baby.
I have 7 children oldest is 25, youngest is 1. I am 51 years old. Yes I was quite shocked to find out I was not going thru menopause but pregnant…..my first DR’s visit he told me I had a better chance of winning the lottery then getting pregnant on my own. I had 7 months of complete misery every time I went to the DR…..telling me constantly what will go wrong. Our son was born 5 weeks early, spent 1 week in the NICU mainly because of his weight…and is a healthy and happy little guy. I am glad I really did not listen to my DR’s, even though I did not plan this one… I know I will be the oldest parent in his preschool class, but you know I would not change this second chance to parent and love a child again.