The author had her kids Nick (left) and Chloe (right) when she was 37 and 40.

The author had her kids Nick (left) and Chloe (right) when she was 37 and 40. Courtesy of Lorraine C. Ladish

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From the time I started playing with dolls, I wanted to have babies of my own. By the time I was 15, I knew I wanted to be a young mom. I told myself that if I didn’t have babies by the age of 25, I wouldn’t have children.

When I was born, my father was a few weeks shy of his 25th birthday. By then, he already had a Ph.D. and a steady job as a college professor. My mother was 20 and a stay-at-home mom. Having children young and the roles they played in our family, as well as my father’s professional stability, were not uncommon for their generation.

My parents divorced when I was 5, and my younger sister and I were raised by my dad. Eventually, my father remarried to a woman who was only 10 years older than I am, and they had two more children; my stepmother was also in her early 20s when she had my brother and sister.

My grandmother, who helped raise me, had also been a young mother. So to me, it made sense to follow in all these women’s footsteps. Back the, being 30 sounded ancient to me. I didn’t want a big generational gap between my children and me.

I was in my early 30s, childless and single, and still pining to be a mom

Through most of my 20s, I was in a long-term relationship with a man 11 years my senior who had two kids of his own. He wasn’t partial to having more children, but I was young and naive and, of course, I was sure I could change his mind. Instead, we broke up.

Suddenly, I found myself single and childless in my early 30s. I dated around and had a few short-term relationships, but the desire to have babies did not wane one bit. At one point, I told my grandmother that I didn’t care whether I adopted, did IVF, or got pregnant inadvertently. I wanted babies, and I wanted them now.

Then I met a guy four years younger than me who seemed like a breath of fresh air — no ex-wives, no kids, no bitterness. My biological clock was not just ticking; it was ringing the alarm! So, a year late, we got married, and a year after that, we decided to try to conceive.

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It took a while, but I finally had my first baby just a few months shy of my 38th birthday. My second came when I was almost 41. Although both pregnancies were considered geriatric, I didn’t feel I was “too old” during either pregnancy, and I was perfectly happy chasing toddlers in my 40s.

The author wanted to have kids by the age of 25, but now sees the advantage of being an older parent. Courtesy of Lorraine C. Ladish

The advantages of being an older parent

Though 25 was my initial cut-off to have kids, I wouldn’t have been ready by then. I had been battling bulimia for 10 years and was also suffering from bouts of depression. It took me another decade to sort myself out through therapy, 12-step groups, and medication.

When I started trying to conceive, I was in the best shape of my life, and I took excellent care of myself during both pregnancies. Looking back, I feel I was a much more responsible and aware parent than I would have been in my 20s.

My parents’ divorce affected me deeply throughout my life. When I had to make my own tough call of filing for divorce, I did it with the utmost care, keeping our children in mind.

I’m 61 now, and my children are 24 and 21. Although I am much older than they are, I feel the generational gap between us is smaller than what my father and I had. I realize now that he never really had time to be young, while it took me a long time to become a mature, conscious adult.

My only regret is that I may not be around for my children when they’re my age, while I still have my dad. He and I now enjoy a close relationship: we talk several times a week and spend quality time together when I come to visit. Then again, my grandmother lived to be 102, so who knows?