I pulled off quite the late bloomer feat three years ago when I got pregnant at the overly ripe age of 46. My one friend stated, leave it to Shalagh to pull off that kind of way-outside-the-box stunt. I wanted no regrets in trying to have one more. And one more is exactly what I got and then some. A Girl!
And now, three years later, my body is starting to stutter. Less than a year now until I turn 50 and I’m missing a period, skipping a beat here and there. Am I happy about it? Yes. Would I be happier if I could just flip a switch and be done with it? Yes.Am I going to wax poetic on my body and all that this represents. Not right now.
The women in my family have little history to tell me about what my family might do so I am winging it here. Osteoporosis, hormone therapy, and estrogen supplements? I don’t know. As much as I’ve cursed my body these past 37 years, it’s the familiar that we cling to.The unknown that we fear.
I do know that I’m happy I pulled off what I did when I did. A baby at 46 years old. She’s a blessing and a delight even as she’s flipping me off in her randy toddler fashion. And I have many many lady friendships to draw from were I to dare ask what their experiences have been.
So Bon Voyage to my youthful Mommy purposed body and Hello to the new old lady frontier. It’s all according to a master plan. Just not necessarily mine.
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