A Mom at (Practically) 40

Do you know what happens when you spend your life being told by doctors that you can’t have children? You stop dreaming about it and move on. Do you know what happens when you think you can’t have children and get pregnant at 36? You make the doctor re-check the test at least twice, cuss at your mother for laughing at you and then almost die of shock. At least that’s how it happened for me.

When I was 18 years old I was told that I would never have kids. Never is a big, strong word for an 18 year old girl who only ever dreamed of being a wife and a mom. It took years to mourn that loss. But, finally, I did. I became Aunt JoDee to a slew of god kids and nieces and nephews. I was great at being Aunt JoDee. I took pride in it. Then, boom, out of nowhere there’s an Emergency Room doctor telling me I’m pregnant. No, I say. That’s not possible, I say. Recheck the test, I say. So he does. And after I continue to argue, he does a sonogram and sure enough there on the screen was my 7-week-old blip of a miracle child. Admittedly, I was angry. I’d be a big fat liar if I said I wasn’t. I spent the entire first trimester being sick and being pissed. Not much more to it. I mean, I was pregnant at 36! I would deliver my baby at 37. I was going to be an old (and single) mom. That wasn’t exactly the dream when I was a kid.

So I spent my pregnancy being scared. Obviously, since I wasn’t supposed to be a mom, then I was going to lose this child at some point. I tried not to get attached. I tried not to get too excited. I kept an emotional distance while unpacking baby gifts and picking out names. I had this fear all the way up to the minute that they brought her into my room and put her in my arms. Then I thought to myself, “Holy crap! I’m a mom!” And I find myself thinking that at least once a day, everyday, even now.

Here I am three months in, mom to the most beautiful baby girl I have ever laid eyes on. I’m permanently exhausted. There are levels of tired I didn’t even know existed that I experience regularly. I’ve never seen three a.m. as many times as I have seen it in the last 90 days. Some days I’m confused. Some days I have complete clarity. Some days I’m frustrated. Some days I’m overjoyed. Some days I feel lost. Hell, some days I feel all of those things before my feet have even hit the ground. So, I’m putting pen to paper (figuratively speaking) to help sort out my thoughts, gather advice, vent to the unknown allies I believe exist and to share my journey as a mom at (practically) 40.

Lola Grace Slatten

2-19-2018