- I was pregnant with my first child at age 17 and was clueless about everything.
- In my late 30s I had two more daughters.
The 20-year age gap between my oldest and youngest kids gives me the unique perspective of being both a young and old parent.
Pregnant at 17 with my first, I wholeheartedly believed I'd sail off into the sunset with my boyfriend, whom I married the month after graduating from high school, to live happily ever after.
I thought I knew things I didn't and learned hard life lessons.
I knew nothing the first time around
Beyond our genuine excitement, I wasn't prepared for my son when he arrived in the fall of 1985. Without medical insurance, I received MediCal benefits for prenatal care and delivery. Lamaze classes were all the rage, and we were convinced it was best for our baby. The memory of excruciating, not beautiful, pain (including significant tearing) remains crystal clear. I spent less than 18 hours in the hospital.
By the time he was 2, I was divorced and working two jobs, and I'd see my son when I could. He lived with my ex and his parents less than 10 miles away, but I was in my reverse adolescence and survival era, sometimes making thoughtless choices.
Those were tumultuous times, and I wasn't present as a parent. I have huge regrets. Like the time I chose the drag races with my boyfriend over attending my son's 4th birthday party. I wasn't there for first days at school, reading stories, baths and bedtimes, learning to ride a bike, school band concerts, and so much more.
Being a young parent felt cool
In my late 20's, revealing I had a 10-year-old became almost a novelty. While I wasn't winning any parenting awards, being a young one felt cool.
By this time, I was regularly scouring the Yellow Pages and cold-calling businesses to ask if they were hiring because being a young parent meant being resourceful and constantly hustling. Always looking for the next better job, I ultimately landed one, becoming an assistant to the founder of a software development and manufacturing company. I suddenly had a 401(k) and provided medical and dental insurance for my son.
I thought I was done having kids and was working on being a better mom. I bought a house, and spring and summer breaks became our special time during my son's visits from Florida.
I had 2 more kids in my 30s
Life changed in a blink when I remarried at 33. At 36, we welcomed our first daughter and a second at 38, both made more enjoyable with epidurals. I was hyper-aware of the instinctual sense of love and selflessness that enveloped me upon their arrival versus the blur of fear and immaturity that encapsulated my world as a teen mom.
The cycle of maternal dysfunction in my family is distinct. My great-grandmother, twice widowed, raised six daughters alone during the depression and had little time for demonstrative parenting. My grandmother almost died giving birth to my mother, and spent the first three months of her life together, apart — never bonding, in the hospital. I was born to an emotionally fragile mother who was unable to care for me. In an ironic turn, it was my grandmother who rescued and raised me for my first eight years.
In a miraculous second chance, the entirety of this cycle having trickled down and through me, I was determined to end it.
I had more stability as an older mom
As an old parent, I have stability and a healthy marriage. I stopped working after the birth of my oldest daughter, and was fortunate (thanks to my husband's job) to be able to transition to full-time stay-at-home mom. I overcompensated for every past mistake, changed almost every diaper, and never missed a thing.
Every milestone moment of my daughters' early lives was a painful reminder of what I'd missed with their brother. We've done a lot of healing.
As the kids grew, it was a time of reinvention and self-discovery, not only as a parent but as a person. With the privilege of time, I started a catering company, published a children's book, and wrote a novel.
Being a young and old parent means my two grandbabies will benefit from having cool, young aunties. I've parented two different generations, pre-smartphone and through the rise of social media. The sweetest gift of all has been watching the relationship between my kids evolve and blossom.
At the end of the day, I'm lucky and thankful. I am Lucky for how it all turned out, with massive gratitude for all my kids have and continue to teach me.