I’m 31, my husband is 51, and lately I’ve been feeling some baby fever. For the record, kids aren’t a must for me, I’m genuinely happy with or without them, but I think it would be nice to experience that journey. My husband is hesitant, though. Even though he’s very healthy, active, and energetic, he feels like having a child in his 50s might be too late. He also already has a 27-year-old son, and he worries that the big age gap between siblings would feel strange.
I guess I’m just looking to hear what others think about this situation.
In my opinion over 50 is too old. I don’t have a hard cutoff but I think I would place it somewhere around early 40s.
Some of my reasons are very subjective. My best memories of my childhood with my parents are of active stuff – camping trips, exploring rivers, kayaking. My parents are still very active in their late 60s but I can’t imagine them doing a lot of the stuff we did back then. At least not in the same way.
Also I hate seeing my parents age. It was fine until their early 60s, they were also still very healthy and energetic in their 50s. But now I am often reminded that our time together is limited. I would have hated to deal with that as a child or teenager.
I know it’s very possible for a child to have a happy life with an older parent, possibly happier than many other children. But I personally would hate to have one and think it’s a bit selfish to consciously choose it.
It’s a weird feeling when you look at them and recognize them looking like your grandparents for the first time.
I don’t really have many memory of my grandparents. One of my grandfathers I never met because he too was an old father and died years before I was born. My other grandparents died rather young when I was still little. All of this likely adds to my bias.
Believe me it sucks from the other side as well. It’s bad enough that I have white hair but I also can no longer be “the guy”. I may no longer be up for the hike, the sport, the long drive. My knees are bad enough so it’s difficult to get on the ground to play. I stiffen up in a long video game session. It’s much harder to find the energy.
My kids grew up just in time. But my littlest one got up at dawn today, hiked up a mountain and sent back picture of his university as a faint dot in the distance. That used to be me, and I hope I’m part of his inspiration but can no longer join him.
This summer for the first time I took a hike that was too much. We hadn’t planned for the heat or sufficient water. It’s bad enough that I had to sit and send him for the car, but that bastard was perfectly fine so he ran the remaining two miles to the car. Since then he’s been overly worried about me. I’m supposed to be the one worried about him