By Kristi Leckband
That’s me, the older mom. Our first child was born when I was 30 years old. Yes, 30. By the time we adopted our little girl, I was 40 years old. Yes, 40. Two months later child #3, a newborn, was adopted into our family. I was thrilled to be adding to my family. We had waited a really long time for our daughter to have siblings. And they both came to us, two months apart.
But there are times when it is no cakewalk. I had loads of energy when our firstborn came along. I was in good shape. I could run beside her as she learned to ride a bike. I could keep up with her and her teammates as my husband and I coached their softball teams. I could ski with the high school youth and walk up the long hill after sledding.
When the next two joined our family, I was ten years older. I was also ten years wiser as a parent. I knew what to expect from little children and how to nurture them. I had more patience and could bend a bit more when learning took a while. The physical challenges weren’t so noticeable yet. I could keep up with the “littles” as they toddled around the house and played in the swimming pool. I could get to the softball in the outfield while they ran the bases. Our family also had the added benefit of a sister who was ten years older. She had loads of energy to spend on her siblings, and the laughter in our house proved it.
The physical challenges of being an older parent are coming to light. I’m in my 50’s now, and there are still two teenagers at home. We hike through the woods, but they are content to go off on their own for that. Sleeping on a camp pad is just not fun for my body anymore. I don’t ride all of the water rides because my body can’t handle the motion. I have become more of the cheerleader for my teenagers. I suppose it has helped them become more independent, but I know that I’m not as active with them as I was for our firstborn. Our family worked together to plant 50 tomato plants in the spring. That night, I needed a heating pad to provide relief from the ache of bending over while planting the little seedlings. I can’t even imagine how Sarah of the Bible felt when she birthed Isaac at 90 years of age. Isaac would have been a teenager when she was in her 100’s. How did she do it??
My vanity has taken a hit as an older mom. I don’t have the hour-glass figure that youth provided. When my firstborn wed, the gray hairs were visible. If the Lord should grant spouses to my next two children, gray will be the featured color enveloping my head.
Being the older mom, I have the benefit of being a better listener for my teenagers. I can listen to them lay out their case for something, and I can do so without wanting to interject my opinion immediately (although I still want to do that). I have more patience to let the conversation flow and guide my teens to good resolutions for problems.
As an older mom, I find myself engaged in many conversations with the moms of my children’s friends. I have the added bonus of already sending one off to college and into married life while those moms are just starting to contemplate post-high school life for their children. By the grace of God, I am able to provide some helpful advice and be a sounding board for their thoughts.
It makes me feel pretty good to be running a 100-yard race with the teenagers and other 30-40 year old moms at a track and field event. I don’t win, but I can still compete. I’m so thankful that my body allows me to do that. I can play pickleball much easier than I can play tennis. (Thank goodness for a smaller court.) I’ll still climb on the rocks in the river, but I won’t venture quite so far as the rest of the young moms. God has taught me to recognize my limits in this area.
Do I regret that I’m an older mom? That probably is not the question to ask. Is it okay to be an older mom? Absolutely yes. While the human body is more capable of handling the physical challenges of parenting when in her 20’s, it does not mean that being an active mom in her 50’s and beyond isn’t going to be possible. I know that my teens will be in college when my husband and I near retirement age. That doesn’t bother us. We are blessed with good health and plan to be active participants in our children’s lives, and even our grandchildren’s lives.
I wish our children could have come into our lives sooner. I listened to the cultural pressure to “enjoy marriage without children” for a few years before starting a family. That advice to wait, dear sister, is hogwash. Enjoy the children as soon as you can. Those girls and boys are gifts from God. We should gladly receive them.
Each day, God gives me the privilege of spending time with my children. No matter my age, I have the blessing of being a mom. (And even being a grandma.)
That will never get old.
