Finding Motherhood in My Fifties by Debbie Oberlander

I gave birth to my beautiful little boy just days before my 55th birthday.  He is now approaching three.  I absolutely love being a mother.  I am proud to be an older mom.  I wish I had the courage to be an older mom just a few years earlier, but am grateful for my son, the love and light of my life.

Advances in medicine and third party reproduction have opened possibilities to become a parent in ways unimaginable when I was growing up and fantasizing about my future family.   As I found myself moving through my “childbearing years” without the family of my dreams, I realized my dream would have to take new form.  But coming to this realization was not easy or quick.  The onset of menopause jolted me into my new reality.  Then I took comfort that third party reproduction could allow my “clock to keep ticking”.  However, after a few years I realized that even this route had an expiration date of sorts.

At around 53, still waiting for “Mr. Right” to (re)appear and skittish about doing it on my own, I asked my gynecologist about my window for achieving and sustaining a healthy pregnancy.  While he felt that medically this would be feasible for another period of time, he gently asserted, “Do it this year or not at all.  You want to be young enough to play soccer with your child”.  That pretty much made my decision.  This was a sobering remark from a physician whose holistic view I appreciated and in whom I had put my trust over many years.

I also could not have come to this happy place in my life without the encouragement, guidance and support of friends who know me well and care enough to have important conversations.  Their words had been swirling around in my head, vigorously percolating in the months prior to this visit with my doctor.  Indeed, it takes a village to raise a child, and sometimes to bring one into this world.

Now ready to pursue the path of motherhood, I scheduled an appointment with a reproductive endocrinologist.  Already postmenopausal, I would require an egg donor.  Because of my preference for a Jewish donor, the wait was longer.  Also, there were minor glitches along the way, further delaying this process.  The waiting period, while nerve wracking, admittedly bought me time to get more comfortable with the idea and better situate myself.  After living in the same apartment for decades, I moved to a larger place, in a neighborhood where I had better supports.  I moved on a Monday, and that Friday I received “the call” that my donor started her menstrual cycle, which meant that within weeks I would have the embryo transfer.   As I recall that phone conversation with my doctor, even now, I get a nervous feeling in my stomach.  I remember being so excited to get the update, responding “I’m ready”, hanging up, and then thinking, “What am I nuts?!  Ready?!  What does that mean?!  I momentarily thought, “I can still get out; it’s not too late”.

But while my stomach was queasy with worry, my heart was secretly reveling in joy.  And as I write, I recognize that I still carry some sense of nervousness but not an ounce of doubt that this was the singular most amazingly wonderful decision I have and will ever make.  Yes, I often wonder and worry, am I doing enough for my child, providing enough financially as a sole wage earner, am I stretched too thin between caring for my child, working and managing the household fully on my own.  Each night when I put my little prince to bed, I look in his eyes and hope that he feels I gave him a great day.

Most of my added challenges of parenting are related to doing it solo.  I often recognize that life would be easier with a husband or significant other.  However, outside of the obvious issue of longevity, I don’t perceive much downside to being an older mom. And while I may not get around a soccer field as well as in my younger years, there are some benefits to being a later in life mom.  I enjoyed my freedom, independence, and social life for enough years that am satiated and don’t feel that I am “giving up” anything to raise my son.  Also, while I know I would have been a tolerant parent at any age, I think having waited nearly 55 years for this light of my life, I find joy in things that might have been bothersome as a younger mom.  I remember the first time I experienced a spray of urine shooting up from the changing table, and seeing in it a beautiful rainbow.  In the early months of piercing middle of the night crying, I heard strong lungs.  In my toddler’s stubbornness, I see perseverance.

I do not have the luxury of writing during devoted uninterrupted time, but rather by fits and starts.  One morning I snuck out of bed, after carefully barricading my son in with pillows (yes, about once a week, my toddler decides that he can only fall asleep in mommy’s bed), went downstairs to write, only to hear the pitter patter of footsteps shortly after, followed by playtime with trains, breakfast of homemade pumpkin pancakes, brushing teeth, dressing, and then rushing off to school.  Other days I wake, bleary eyed, at 5:30AM and write while my son is asleep in his own bed.  I always feel pinched for time, but my son’s smiles, hugs and his being the wonderful kid that he is more than ease the sting.

I have always been a nurturer, and parenting is the ultimate experience.  As a psychotherapist I derive satisfaction from helping patients resolve painful issues, over time.  As a mommy, I instantly make things all better by just kissing a boo boo.

Debbie became a mom at the age of 54.  After a marriage that did not result in children, she waited for “Mr. Right” to (re)appear, until finding the courage to do it on her own.  She was fortunate to have a beautiful, healthy baby boy using IVF. 

At the time, Debbie had a general practice as a licensed psychotherapist.  Having experienced both the struggle and joy in arriving at motherhood, she decided to get specialized training and focus on work with individuals and couples pursuing assisted reproduction and single women contemplating motherhood.  Debbie considers it a privilege to accompany her clients on this most meaningful journey.

Debbie is also a credentialed nutritionist with a Master’s degree, and a former schoolteacher.  After tiring of going back to school for advanced degrees, she decided to try stand-up comedy.  Debbie considers that the bravest thing she had ever done, until deciding to have a child on her own. 

Her passion for long distance cycling and Israeli folk dance keep her in shape as an active parent at an older age.  She is still working on the antidote for sleep deprivation.