I had my first 2 kids in my early 30s and thought I was done. I fell in love again and had a baby in my 40s.

The author (not pictured) had two kids in her late 20s and a third one in her late 30s.

I went through a lot to have my kids, ages 11 and 9. After two painful and challenging C-sections, I was done having kids.

I was mostly a stay-at-home mom and the default parent. Feeling buried by that weight culminated in a divorce in 2020. In a memoir, I chronicled the aftermath of finding myself in life and motherhood. Writing helped me process my journey through divorce to reclaim my life as a woman and as a mother.

I found the courage to ask myself the tough questions about who I wanted to be and then took action to be that person. After a while, I found the healthy relationship I longed for.

I swore I was done with two kids, thinking it would be just as awful and hard the third time around. I’m glad I was wrong.

I felt something was missing

During the pandemic, I could feel something deeply missing in my life. Taking a chance, I reconnected with an old friend online. We met up for socially distanced hiking, and over a few months, we became close and fell in love.

I promised myself I’d be real from the start; I didn’t want to have another kid. He wanted to experience all of fatherhood from the start.

He deeply loved my two kids and showed up for them. But he still wanted kids of his own, and I could empathize with that desire.

Still, I wondered whether I’d be able to do it a third time. Did I have it in me to go back to the beginning and face the hardest parts all over again?

I was deeply skeptical but willing to examine what I needed to say yes. I’m exceptionally proud of myself for doing this work. The fear inside me was keeping me safe with a blanket statement not to revisit that season of life again. A deeper part of me, however, could see a child for the two of us, creating a loving family of interconnected lives.

I wrote all my fears down

I took a tip from the hard lessons I’d just learned from my divorce. I wrote down everything I was afraid of and took it to my partner. I got real about what it would look like for me to consider pregnancy and motherhood again.

I was 30 when I had my second child, and I’d be 39 when I had my third if we started right away.

These hard conversations set the stage to feel safe enough to dive in again. We worked together to create a plan to clear up how we’d merge our lives together. We set the ground rules for how we’d parent as a team.

Even though I was scared, I knew this was the path for me. I could feel the baby, spiritually, long before the lines on the pregnancy test turned pink.

Being pregnant in my late 30s was different

I’m so happy I’m a mom to three kids, but I won’t lie and say it was all smooth sailing. At 39, several things hit differently than at 29.

I can’t stand the term “geriatric pregnancy,” and I told off a couple of nurses who said it in front of me. I had gestational diabetes, and I had to advocate for my best care. I was very intentional about what support would look like before, during, and after the birth. I finally received and took all the paid leave available to me, as did my now-husband.

Yes, having one last kid later in life has its pluses and minuses. I felt more empowered the third time around, and I was wrong about it being the same as before. I had a positive experience and got the family I wanted.