I had my first baby at age 42. Yes, I'm an 'old mom,' but I'm a better parent because of it.

• I conceived my daughter at almost 42 years of age.
• Being an older mom has its benefits. I have a greater perspective.

Last week I sat around a table with other toddler moms and noticed how supple the space between their eyebrows was — the same spot I've come to despise between my own. My "11 lines" — or glabellar lines — shout my age while other parts of my body still pass for mid-30s. My boobs are still perky despite seven months of breastfeeding, and my calves are ripped after years of distance running. One epigenetic test told me my biological age was 35.

But my 11 lines don't lie: I'm 44 years old.

In society's eyes, I'm an old mom. I conceived my 21-month-old daughter naturally when I was 41 years and 9 months old. She was born in August 2020. Her father had proposed in July 2019, and we were married two months later.

I didn't take the time to analyze the maternal risks or the odds of having a child with a genetic disorder. I didn't consider the independence I'd give up that allowed me to jump on a plane at a moment's notice. I didn't consider the fact that my high-school friends would be sending their daughters off to college, while I'd be chasing my daughter with a diaper she refuses to wear. Or that I'll be going through menopause while most of her peers' mothers are hitting their sexual peak. Or that when she enters third grade, I'll qualify for an AARP membership.

I just jumped at the chance to create life with a partner I loved. And we got very lucky.

I've done what I wanted to do

While my anxiety is at an all-time high, my level of joy exceeds it. I feel like I've been granted the chance to live two lives.

The first allowed me to train to reach my racing peak and visit over 30 countries. I don't resent her when I can't fly to Paris for a weekend to see a band. I've already done it. And I don't feel guilty for not getting up at 6 a.m. to squeeze in a 20-mile run on the weekend. I'm happy in my slower, softer state.

My relationship with my parents has budded a new branch. It brings me great joy to see my father holding my daughter's hand and my mother decorating sugar cookies with her. Age has granted me the ability to see that my parents showering my daughter with affection is their indirect way of loving me. I'm not sure I would've perceived this at 25 years old.

I can't recall how many times I've been told, "You just don't bounce back as fast when you're an older parent." That's right. I don't bounce back energetically as quickly as friends who had their children in their mid-20s, some of whom are already grandparents. But I can bounce ideas off my experiences differently than I would have in my 20s with half the life experience because I now have a greater perspective.

I'm a better mom for all the things I've seen

I've lived long enough to have seen the patterns of perfecting play out between my grandma, mother, and me.

Hopefully, now, I can catch myself from seeing my daughter as an extension of myself that I'm trying to perfect and be less self-critical as an imperfect parent.

I've also lived long enough to realize the value of couple's therapy. An hour spent with my husband and our psychotherapist to discuss poor communication patterns because of sleep deprivation is worth more in the long term than makeup sex after a series of illogical arguments.

I look at my daughter every morning and realize she's a gift I almost didn't receive. All the statistics indicate that she's practically a miracle. It was empowering to watch my body do things medical science and the media told me I probably couldn't or shouldn't do.

Last month, she was awarded the "Best Expressions" certificate from her teacher. As I watch my own expressions on her little face, I see those 11 lines differently. If I'd tried to permanently erase those lines to match the youth-obsessed beauty standards of today, I wouldn't have been able to share my range of expressions with my daughter. The looks of concentration, surprise, disbelief, wonder, and even grief.

I want her to see me like the dynamic mother I am, with all my lines. They reflect stories that have made me a better mom.