At a silly young age four kids was the number I'd enforce on any man with a serious dating attitude. Two boys and two princesses or three little mermaids and a sailor. My mind was made up. I might not have realized it at a time but following this dream hasn't gone through filters like the right time, right age or simply right mindset to raise this bunch. Now into my more mature self, I look back and breathe heavily. How easy is it to throw ideas in the air while you're young and not yet in love? To have everything figured out on your 17th birthday, together with the salary, first car and names of your offspring? What a confidence in the future self, what a well written plan. Whether it has something to do with age or compromises adulthood is never short of -- those vulnerable, familiar ideas tend to shift from loud and proud to altered phrase of creating balance between the young self's vision and the one's that's in the picture now although I love both in a weird way. Four shrinks to two while those fabulous names once dear to your heart, well... you may never look at them the same way again.
So what about the expectations of a fairytale life? They're beautiful and wroth pursuing yet... trying to achieve it and much more in late 30s is different to what could have been a decade ago if only universe would have aligned perfectly. If babies never came once one was ready, how to transition the need elsewhere not getting trapped in the impossible dream? In this dream motherhood is beautiful and there are no rules but many options to choose from to feel completely happy and magical. What a great dream to hold dear and tight within one's heart. Yet, what if a woman happens to be in her 40s and beyond, full of hope and faith because one shouldn't give those up? Should she still consider herself breastfeeding one day or daydream of a perfect labour pain relief option? When holding onto a dream becomes merely an echo tucked deep down it almost loses its meaning?
I knew I would have not chosen to be pregnant beyond 35th birthday. I could have still debated and maybe sat on the fence for a month or two but my decision would have proved the latter. Realizing numbers on a birthday cake coming faster each year, I knew I had to make this choice - now or never. Knowing my body and its limitations, my habits and routines, I went for it. Now, before hitting the big 35. Everybody is different, everybody knows their own boundries and it's so uplifting to learn yet, where does one draw the line? How do you know you still have a while to go before locking the door for good? Is 35th birthday a good deadline? What if yours is pushed a few years on and still works? I don't know. And I shouldn't really as I'm only in charge of my life, mysterious in its making but truly mine. We all need to assess our own capabilities to grow a family in our own hearts and minds. Anyway happy families don't overly calculate, do they?
I'd love to hear your thoughts on late motherhood if you happen to feel like telling me your story. x
So what about the expectations of a fairytale life? They're beautiful and wroth pursuing yet... trying to achieve it and much more in late 30s is different to what could have been a decade ago if only universe would have aligned perfectly. If babies never came once one was ready, how to transition the need elsewhere not getting trapped in the impossible dream? In this dream motherhood is beautiful and there are no rules but many options to choose from to feel completely happy and magical. What a great dream to hold dear and tight within one's heart. Yet, what if a woman happens to be in her 40s and beyond, full of hope and faith because one shouldn't give those up? Should she still consider herself breastfeeding one day or daydream of a perfect labour pain relief option? When holding onto a dream becomes merely an echo tucked deep down it almost loses its meaning?
I knew I would have not chosen to be pregnant beyond 35th birthday. I could have still debated and maybe sat on the fence for a month or two but my decision would have proved the latter. Realizing numbers on a birthday cake coming faster each year, I knew I had to make this choice - now or never. Knowing my body and its limitations, my habits and routines, I went for it. Now, before hitting the big 35. Everybody is different, everybody knows their own boundries and it's so uplifting to learn yet, where does one draw the line? How do you know you still have a while to go before locking the door for good? Is 35th birthday a good deadline? What if yours is pushed a few years on and still works? I don't know. And I shouldn't really as I'm only in charge of my life, mysterious in its making but truly mine. We all need to assess our own capabilities to grow a family in our own hearts and minds. Anyway happy families don't overly calculate, do they?
I'd love to hear your thoughts on late motherhood if you happen to feel like telling me your story. x
 |
| Dress: Atmosphere, Shirt: E S P R I T, Tights: Vertbaudet, Pumps: H&M |
