I didn’t start having kids until I was in my 40s.
(some of you are making a certain kind of face right now)
This was, in part, because I didn’t meet ‘The Guy’ until I was 39- but also, because-and this is absolutely true-
I did not like babies. Okay, babies were cute, but the loud, insistent tantrum-throwing toddlers I would encounter out in the world? I‘m the asshole that made exaggerated mean faces to those unfortunate enough to be a child in front of me.
I had a friend with a small, cute boy, but try eating out with her. Really, try is the right word, because only one of us ever actually got to eat anything.
No thank you, I’d think…I am waaay too selfish and impatient to be a parent to one of those things. NO, I was going to be the eccentric auntie that traversed the globe wearing caftans and silver thumb rings, using the word ‘lovah’ to describe my many men friends in far flung exotic ports.
I never looked longingly at babies or pregnant people. I could smell a baby’s head, and my uterus wouldn’t feel a thing.
Then, unexpectedly, there was Greg. We met on the set of a Morgan Freeman movie I worked on for a day (He’s lighting, I’m a medic).
On our first date!, he asked me if I wanted kids.
I chirpily said ,“NOPE”, he visibly deflated.
We’d had sparks, but they sputtered immediately in the wake of my declaration.
Cut to six weeks later, after a rather flat dating experience with another, I decided to call him and revisit his charm. For some reason, he was interested in another try as well. We had a second date soon after that, and this time, the 4th of July happened inside me. He seemed to like me too. We didn’t talk about children.
This was May 2006.
That Christmas, I accompanied him to the East Coast and met his family.
His brothers’ wife had just had fraternal twins, and under the influence of wine and ridiculous baby cuteness, I looked up at Greg and said the words he’d been waiting to hear. “I want one”.
Of course I pretended later like I’d just been drunk on wine, but the truth is- when you meet the right guy, anything seems possible. And so, there I was, in love and open to the possibility of forever .
In January, he said to me, “how about we stop trying not to get pregnant”?
I took a deep breath through my nose and said, “okay, look. I’ve been smoking and drinking for twenty years, plus, I’m really really old, so maybe this happens and maybe it doesn’t.”
The week of Valentines, we ‘pulled the goalie’, and I got pregnant.
I will explain myself a bit now. Yes, I smoked yucky, icky cigarettes and pot, and hardly ever met a bottle of red I didn’t like, but I also took very, very good care of myself nutritionally. I owned my own wheatgrass machine , and I’d been drinking Kombucha since the 90s, I ate salads and soups in endless varieties. I took fish oil by the tablespoonful. I was a half-assed vegetarian for about a minute, but when I came to my senses, I made sure all, (okay, most) of my animal products were organic. I didn’t know it at the time, but all that wheatgrass, kombucha, fish oil and REAL food? Mattered. I got pregnant easily.
At 40 years old. And then again at 44.
I loved being pregnant, by the way. I never threw up, didn’t get stretch marks, I kicked ASS at pregnancy.
I won’t tell birth stories (unless, of course, someone wants to hear about them) except to tell you that my second son was a VBAC born naturally, weighing 10 lbs 9 oz. I have to credit Dr. Paul Crane for believing I could do it, and not worrying too much about how obviously big my second boy was.
I will now skip to the part where my firstborn two year old wouldn’t say, ‘Mama’.
It turned into pleading at one point, I remember. He would giggle at me, but wouldn’t actually use words. This should have alarmed me, but I was completely UNschooled in child development. I just knew he wasn’t autistic, just because he made eye contact and was affectionate. It wasn’t until he started going to daycare and a staff member took me aside and suggested I have him evaluated that we began to see that he truly had a problem.
I had a friend that was attending The Natural Gourmet School in New York. She suggested I get this book, ‘Nourishing Traditions’. Well. That changed everything.
I read that book, and then found Dr. Natasha Campbell McBride’s GAPS book.
I now had some tools. It is from these two books, that I decided I wanted to go to school to get the science behind the nutrition. Fats, in particular, interested me.
I began to connect my low-fat vegetarianism to my anger and depression issues.
I had been an advocate of fish oil without really understanding WHY. So, I went to school and became a certified Nutritionist. But I wasn’t done.
The National Institute Of Whole Health had a ‘Whole Health Educator’ program that excited me. Here was a place that believed , “Everything IS Everything”. It is the benefits of these teachings, that I bring you this website. I will simply share what I have learned, and you will get something out of it, or you won’t. I thank you for being here and being interested in the evolution of YOU.
If you are one of the millions that benefit from having someone to assist them on their own personal path to better WellBeing, please contact me about Whole Health Coaching.