HOT
FLASHES, WARM BOTTLES:
FIRST-TIME
MOTHERS OVER FORTY
by Nancy
London
The
following is an excerpt from Hot
Flashes, Warm Bottles: First-Time Mothers
Over Forty by Nancy London, MSW, published
by Celestial Arts/ Ten Speed Press, April
2001
About the author: Nancy London
was one of the original authors of "Our
Bodies, Ourselves". She is a licensed therapist
specializing in women's issues, and runs
support groups nationally for older first-time
mothers. She has been a featured speaker
at the California Governor's Conference
for Women, as well as a guest on over one
hundred radio shows, including National
Public Radio. She holds cum laude
degrees in English and Philosophy, and a
Master of Social Work. She lives with her
husband and daughter in Santa Fe, New Mexico.
The need for this book became apparent
to me the night I fell asleep from sheer
exhaustion before I could leave my nine-year-old
daughter, Sasha, a gift from the tooth fairy.
I loved being the tooth fairy when she was
little. I used to keep a stash of gifts
on hand for these times, and especially
enjoyed writing and decorating letters to
her from the tooth fairy, admiring her tooth,
and telling her and how proud I was of her.
We had our routine. Sasha would leave her
tooth and a note to the fairy, often with
a small token of affection, like a seashell
or bead, and I would replace her offering
with mine. So it was a huge jolt to me the
morning my daughter came sobbing into the
kitchen because the tooth fairy hadn't come.
She felt abandoned and betrayed her friend
from the spirit world who had, up until
now, delivered some pretty fair booty. "Good
grief," I thought, abashed and a little
alarmed, "I'm too tired to be the tooth
fairy."
After five emotionally devastating and
physically depleting miscarriages in my
thirties, I had given birth to my first
and only child three months shy of my forty-forth
birthday. At the time, I felt young, vital
and capable of juggling parenting, marriage
and a fulfilling career as a therapist specializing
in women's issues. Now, nine years later
I was struggling with exhaustion, impatience,
irritability and a growing desire for solitude.
What happened to my intention to be the
Perfect Mother? The Perfect Mother was patient.
She didn't resort to yelling. She
didn't have violent mood swings. But I did.
Unlike a younger mother, my fantasies and
expectations of myself and the virtues I
would bring to parenting had had decades
to solidify; now my inability to live up
to this self-created myth was causing me
secret shame and confusion. And so I took
courage and my own good advice as a therapist
and began to explore and accept all the
conflicting voices clamoring inside of me.
In the hopes of finding some confirmation
that I wasn't cracking up in my own private
universe, I started searching bookstores
for clues - had other women ever felt what
I was feeling? I started with books on motherhood,
but they offered no insight. What I found
next astonished me: everything I had been
feeling - peace, grief, teeth-clenching
impatience, cell-tingling joy, bone deep
exhaustion, (often all in one day), all
the nameless yearning, ambivalence, body
changes - they were all described exactly
as I was experiencing them in books BY WOMEN
GOING THROUGH MENOPAUSE. I was elated. I
had stumbled out of my own dark room into
a brilliantly lit banquet hall. I was entering
menopause but had been too busy raising
a young child to notice! Certainly finding
this confirmation and reassurance was the
"good news." The "bad news"
was that all these books were written for
women whose children were already grown.
The self-help suggestions were geared towards
women who had large chunks of discretionary
time they could lavish on themselves: time
to retreat and nurture oneself during periods
of heightened fatigue and irritability,
time to explore new avenues of creativity
in silence, time and space for artful flower
arrangements in pristine environments long
beyond needing to be "kid proof."
In short, these books assumed I had time
to journey through the mid-life transition
focused wholly on a new set of developmentally
appropriate needs and desires. "But
what about me?" I heard myself almost
bleat in the bookstore. "What about
my transition that includes these
needs and desires and a small child that
I adore?"
Suspecting that I wasn't alone in this
dilemma, I ran a small ad in the local paper
seeking first time moms over forty interested
in forming a support group to explore the
spiritual, emotional and physical challenges
of raising children as mature women. For
the next ten days I was deluged with phone
calls from dozens of older mothers. When
these women realized that I wanted to explore
both the joys and the challenges
of parenting at our age, they cried, begged
and bribed to attend. The night of our first
support group I came prepared, like a good
therapist, with several ice-breaking exercises.
But before I could pass out nametags, before
they had their coats off, they were sharing
their experiences as older mothers with
each other in the deepest, most intimate
fashion imaginable.
Since that night, I have been privileged
to hear the stories of countless other older
mothers ranging in age from forty to sixty,
with children six months to sixteen years.
These women are either married or single,
are lesbian or straight, gave birth or adopted,
work at home or outside the home, used infertility
treatments to conceive, or started second
families after forty. We are as much unlike
younger mothers as we are unlike older mothers
with grown children.
The following are the issues that surface
again and again in support groups, and which
provide the framework for this book:
**Older mothers may enter perimenopause
soon after giving birth, and the developmentally
appropriate needs that surface for her at
this time are often at odds with the developmentally
appropriate needs of her young child. This
is what I call The Clash of the Titans.
**The older woman who gives birth in her
forties undergoes a rapid and potentially
disturbing shift in self-image, from, "I
still feel and look like twenty-nine and
I'm ready for sex" before childbirth,
to "How can this be me crawling to
bed at nine p.m. in my flannel pajamas?"
In many cases, the mothers of her child's
friends are ten to fifteen years younger
than she is. She feels tired and bedraggled
by comparison, and often struggles to maintain
her self-esteem and sense of desirability
in a culture that worships youth.
**Older mothers often feel forced to choose
between a career they have cultivated for
decades which may now be in mid-bloom, or
staying at home with a much anticipated
child. This is significantly different from
the younger woman who may have worked for
only a few years before starting a family,
and has much less time, identity and meaning
invested in her career.
**Older mothers are often sandwiched between
caring for their elderly parents and meeting
the needs of their young child. Too often,
there's no time or energy left to meet their
own needs, and the support their elderly
parents might have been able to offer a
decade ago is no longer available.
**Because the chances of successfully conceiving
decrease with age, many women who postponed
having children until their forties are
now resorting to a variety of infertility
treatments. While the literature focuses
on the cutting edge advances of these technologies,
the emotional, psychological and financial
repercussions are often overlooked.
**Increasingly, older women are turning
to domestic and foreign adoption as a means
of becoming parents. Many of these children
are from cultures light years different
from ours, and are often old enough to have
suffered abuse and neglect.
** The psychological and physical demands
of successfully ushering a teenager into
adulthood are enormous, and no matter how
well she takes care of herself, an older
mother will be in her 50s when her child
is a hormone-driven adolescent.
HOW WE CAME TO BE FIRST TIME MOMS OVER
FORTY
While the total births for women in the
United States has steadily decreased since
1980, it has risen sharply among older women:
between 1980 and 1995, the birth rate for
women forty to forty-four increased an astonishing
81 percent. The American College of Obstetricians
and Gynecologists estimates that we will
have entered the new millennium with one
in every twelve babies being born to women
aged thirty-five and older.
Several factors have contributed to this
extension of a woman's "fertility deadline"
from her early thirties to early forties:
our society as a whole is enjoying improved
health and extended longevity, women now
have reliable birth control and access to
legal abortions, and the impact of the Women's
Movement and the politics of sexual equality
which encouraged a whole generation of girls
to challenge the notion that biology was
destiny, and step out of the traditionally
defined roles of wife and mother into a
brave new world where all things seemed
possible.
In the course of interviewing hundreds
of older first- time mothers, I always ask
how they came to motherhood in their forties
rather than their thirties or even twenties,
and have found their answers as interesting
and varied as the women themselves. The
stories reflect not only their personal
circumstances, but also the heady political
and social climate of the times in which
they came of age.
Lynn told the support group: "Even
when I was a kid setting the dinner table,
I knew I never wanted to be like my mom.
She worked as a secretary all day and then
came home and put in another eight-hour
shift. She never even had a choice. I resented
my dad because of the inequality, because
he had the power and his work was valued
in the world. Did I want to be powerless
or powerful? It was a real no-brainer. The
Women's Movement gave me the license to
be who I really was and to make the choice
not to get married at eighteen. I went into
computer science, and was the only girl
in my class."
Many women put off childbearing to distance
themselves from early family responsibilities.
Others wanted children, and started trying
to have them in their thirties but couldn't
women who had their fertility compromised
by drugs like DES that their mothers took
when they were in utero, or by contraception
like the Dalkon Shield, which caused infections
and made conception impossible because of
scarring.
Some women postponed motherhood until they
had the financial resources to parent alone,
some waited while they established themselves
more securely in careers. Some women used
their fortieth birthday as a deadline: if
Mr. or Ms. Right hadn't shown up by then,
they'd pursue motherhood on their own. Others,
caught up in living in the moment, didn't
even know they were waiting.
I have heard many stories from women who
wisely postponed motherhood until pressing
personal issues were resolved. "I came
out as a lesbian in my thirties," Becca
offered. "My sexual identity had to
be in place before I became a parent."
Ultimately, all these women chose motherhood
out of instinct, intuition, and a deeply
held knowledge that parenting was their
heart's desire. Out of the hundreds of first-
time mothers over forty I have met, I have
never spoken with one who regretted her
decision. Never. But what I have
heard is: "Oh my God
if I had
only known how exhausted I was going to
be I would have done it sooner." Or:
"If I had had my baby earlier my father
would still be alive to meet his grandson."
Or: "My infertility treatments cost
me my entire life savings. Maybe none of
this would have been necessary if I had
tried to have kids in my thirties."
Or: "I love my daughter. Adopting was
the best thing I've ever done. But sometimes
I feel really sad thinking about my genetic
line coming to an end with me."
These are women reflecting in hindsight
on the decision to postpone motherhood until
their forties. Lest the scales seemed tipped,
what they also say in overwhelming
numbers is: "Having a baby when I was
older was the greatest pleasure of my life."
And: "I had less difficulty figuring
out what was the priority and what was trivial."
And: "I had more realistic expectations,
I was more relaxed." And: "I was
so much more self aware than I was in my
twenties and thirties. I would have made
a lousy parent if I had done it any sooner."
They are saying it's a trade-off. For the
most part, they are exhausted and pushed
to their physical limits, but are reveling
in the long sought experience of being a
mother even as they fold like a bad poker
hand in the early hours of the night.
THE CONSEQUENCES OF OUR CHOICES
I had the life-changing good fortune of
being in the right place at the right time:
Cambridge MA during the late sixties. I
was invited to join a small group of women
gathering together once a week to discuss
- radical notion - the unique experience
of being a woman. This was the first East
Coast women's consciousness raising group,
out of which grew the Boston Women's Health
Book Collective, and the first edition of
Our Bodies, Ourselves, of which I
was a contributing writer. I mention this
so that you will understand that as an early
card-carrying member of the Women's Movement,
I believed we could have it all, be it all,
and do it all. Given that predisposition,
it has been a gradual awakening on my part
to understand that the choices we make do
bear consequences, despite what our culture's
addiction to immediate gratification would
have us believe. Working with older women
who postponed childbearing until their forties
is a lesson in these natural consequences:
fertility and life force irrevocably decline
with age. Those women who did conceive consider
themselves fortunate, as most of them have
friends who weren't so lucky and are now
facing a childless future. Those who resolved
their infertility by adopting say that their
inability to conceive, no matter what high-tech
treatment they employed, or how much money
they spent, was their first brush with the
real lessons of life: "It doesn't always
matter how much you want it. Some things
are out of your control."
It is my fervent hope that this book not
be used by the Family Values crew as an
I-told-you-so sneer to uppity women everywhere.
Rather, it is my intention to offer support,
guidance, advice and an occasional groan
of recognition to women in their forties
already up to their eyeballs in the experience
of being an older first time mom, and to
provide food for thought to younger women
who are currently weighing their options.
The above is an excerpt from Hot
Flashes, Warm Bottles: First-Time Mothers
Over Forty by Nancy London, MSW, published
by Celestial Arts/ Ten Speed Press, April
2001.
To contact Nancy London, you can e-mail
her at: [email protected]
|