I’m strapped into the fetal heart monitor for the third time that week, orange juice smuggled in my handbag (a veteran mom tip). The long hallway leading to this special section has an unofficial name whispered among patients: “the high-risk wing.” The official term “geriatric pregnancy” has been retired in favor of something supposedly less offensive: “advanced maternal age.”
At seven months pregnant, as I abandon all hope of being able to gracefully climb out of the monitoring straps on the exam chair, I overhear two nurses talking about me.
“Well, because of her advanced maternal …”
“Hrrmph,” I clear my throat loudly and give my best stink eye in their direction.
Feeling simultaneously grateful for the specialized care and attention and enraged by the pejorative label, from that moment on, at all my appointments (and there were a lot of them) I threw shade, interrupted, and made every attempt not to hear that phrase.
What happened was that I created a new phrase: advanced maternal.
Although the medical establishment no longer uses the term “geriatric pregnancy,” if you are expecting—or undergoing fertility testing or treatment—and you’re in your 30s or 40s, I can predict with some certainty that as you embark on a transformative experience, you will be made to feel, well, in a word: ancient.
After ten years of actively trying, including multiple appointments with specialists, several rounds of IUI, thousands of dollars, and several moments of hope followed by miscarriage and loss, I was told by medical experts that I would never carry a pregnancy to term. The quality of my eggs was “too old.”
We considered all our options and made peace with our decision to be a childless couple.
Several years later, I called my doctor to talk about what I thought were symptoms of perimenopause, and imagine my surprise when she asked: “Did you take a pregnancy test?”
A few weeks before my 40-something birthday, we welcomed a healthy, strong-willed baby into the world, a miracle in many ways.
In the months and years since, my life has changed in so many ways. And that phrase that was born from my snarky disruptive practice at prenatal appointments—advanced maternal—began to take on a deeper meaning. Becoming a parent later in life certainly comes with unique challenges. And there certainly are days when a loved one, a stranger, a health care professional, the world, or even your body can make you feel ancient.
I invite you to join me on my new practice. Embrace your status. After all, we’re part of the fastest growing group helping to address the global population decline. And instead of letting the world define you by a demographic category, consider this: we’re pretty f*&!-ing remarkable.
When it comes to all things maternal, we’re excelling. We’re beating the odds. We’re advanced.
Here’s “what to expect” (I know, pardon the pun) on Advanced Maternal:
- Personal stories about fertility challenges, pregnancy, post partum, the toddler stage, preschool and beyond
- Practical advice and embarrassing moments—we learn from our mistakes and I love to laugh at myself
- Solidarity with parents in their 30s, 40s, and 50s
Join me as I navigate the joys and absurdities of late-in-life parenting—where we might be “advanced” in years but are often complete beginners at this parenting gig. Share your own stories in the comments or just come to feel less alone when you’re the oldest mom at preschool pickup. Because we’re not just surviving this unexpected journey—we’re redefining it.