March 26, 2007
Another Year Older and None the Wiser
Saturday, March 17th, was my 28th birthday. I still refuse to acknowledge the day and the number that goes along with it, but I’m getting over it. I know I’m not “old” but I sure as hell feel like it.
Perhaps the ten (okay 10 3/4) year age difference between Doug and me, makes me think I’m thirty-eight or something. Each day that he gets older; guess what? So do I! Unbelievable isn’t it?
Another theory about my reluctance to admit my age is that at twenty-eight years old (okay 27 3/4) my mother gave birth to me. I am her first born. I always thought that twenty-eight was “too old” to have a first child, especially in 1979, because that’s like close to thirty. I know that today it’s okay (and wise) to wait several years before starting a family. (Because it’s really hard work, this mothering business.)
I adore my mother because she’s always there when I need her and I often take that for granted. She’s more than willing to babysit Dawson when I have to get away. When I have an awful day, she’s the one who tells me to pray, get some sleep and have some chocolate. She still calls to nag ask me if I’m brushing my teeth and praying the rosary.
These little nutty things about her used to drive me crazy. I realize now, she is the way she is, because she cares. She’s a mother and she loves her children. That’s what mothers do. They love and protect their children no matter what age they are.
I feared “turning into” my mother. I often felt Mom was too old for her age. She was born years too late. She grew up on a farm, saves everything for “later” (and refuses to throw anything out because she might need it!) and she loves to collect antiques and do cross stitch.
I thought these things made her ancient and I promised myself I’d have children young, so that I wouldn’t drive them crazy with my quirky ways and ideas that I’d acquire at the old age of twenty-eight.
I gave birth to Dawson at twenty-five. Not exactly that “young” compared to my current age. But yet I sulked about growing older and how time refuses to stand still for just a moment. And then it hit me. I was stressed out over this birthday because I thought I’d have two children by now.
Not to be taken the wrong way, because I love my little Doodlebug more than the sun and earth. But I still feel like time is wasting away. By the time I give Dawson a brother or sister they’ll be too many years apart to like each other. They’ll fight like cat and dog, just like my brother and I did. Nathan and I are four years apart and we didn’t like each other at all when we were kids.
Now that my old fertility troubles are back, I can’t seem to shake this feeling of inadequacy — reproductively speaking. I’ve been pretending that it doesn’t bother me. I’ve been telling others, and trying to convince myself, that I’m not ready for another baby. Not now or ever. And I’m lying — to my husband, my family and myself.
I’ve been hiding behind the excuse that I want to lose weight, eat healthier and be a thin and hip momma to Dawson. While the whole health thing is a good excuse to have, I feel sad inside. I see babies and I cry a few tears. I read about the happiness of bloggers who are having baby number two and I feel a sliver of jealousy. But I’m truly happy for these women because I often think to myself “They would be better at this than me, I wouldn’t be able to do it again.” And, “What if I won’t love a second child as much as I love Dawson?”
But I know it’s not true. I would be great with another child. Dawson is loved and well taken care of and I’m truly lucky to have him. And I’d be lucky to have another child.
This is why I don’t buy the birth control crap my doctor is trying to sell me. But yet he’s right, it’s only six months. I’d need sixth months to get on track with my health.
So, I think this is why my age was bothering me. And I’m over it. Not completely, but 98% over it.
Speaking of birthdays — my friend Amy was in town for mine and we got smashing drunk. I have pictures (I know I told you this already) and I’m going to upload them tonight. My camera is acting like a moron and I can’t get them up at this moment.
Thank you to everyone who has been supportive to me the last few weeks. I know I’ve been missing in action for awhile. I apologize for my scarce posting. I adore and love you all.
Posted by Dana @ 8:04 am • Uncategorized
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March 26th, 2007 at 1:04 pm, Cheryl Says:
Works for me.
Love you too. Happy birthday. My husband turned 27 on the 23rd, and I teased him like mad about being over the hill. It’s really not that old. Not like “28″. Now that’s old. 
— I was a surprise baby. My mom was 36 when she had me, and my next oldest sibling is seven years older than I. And no, we didn’t get along. But I don’t feel traumatized by that. I felt more like an only child, and that’s okay. I was very self-sufficient and enjoyed playing by myself. Now as adults, the age gap isn’t quite so important since we all have families now. — My mother, a very wise, wonderful woman, would tell you that babies come at the right time, every time. If you end up having your next baby a few years from now, just think of what a great help Dawson will be. My siblings helped out a lot with me, and one brother in particular felt that I was “his” baby when he was ten. Mom said that she would have felt far more exhausted if she had me within three years of the last.
March 26th, 2007 at 2:13 pm, Janet a.k.a Wonder Mom Says:
Enjoy it. This is a wonderful time in your life and you have such a beautiful son. (I know you know that and you don’t need me to tell you)
Just love him with all you are and 28 won’t be so bad…that’s what I do when I think about being 35!!!!
March 26th, 2007 at 4:54 pm, Leslie Says:
My mother had me when she was 18. I had Julia when I was 28. There are benefits to both - being a young mom or a mom that’s a little older. There’s no “correct” age for having a baby. There’s just what’s right for you. I agree with Cheryl’s mom when she said, “babies come at the right time every time.” God has a plan for you. Things will work out.
March 27th, 2007 at 3:39 am, brighton Says:
Though I’ve never struggled with infertility, I have friends who have and I can imagine your frustration with it. 28 is still very young (said by an almost 40 year old!) I was 31 and a half when I had Hunter Bear. Hang in there girl. *hugs*
March 27th, 2007 at 10:20 am, Dana Says:
Thanks for all the great advice. You’re all right. I’m worried over something so minor.
Yet, I still feel like I’m missing out on something. Ugh. I just need to focus on other things for the time being.
Cheryl, I love your mother’s quote very much. I do believe it’s true.
I just wish the right time were soon.