I'm 40 and single – is it too late to consider motherhood?
I never wanted to be a mother. My relationship with my own mother was so chaotic, I worried I wouldn’t be any good at it. Equally, having mothered my little brother, I didn’t know if I wanted to do it again. Now, aged 40 and single, perhaps it’s too late to be reconsidering motherhood anyway.
Recently Dorothy Byrne, the president of a Cambridge university college, got into trouble for warning young women they risked childlessness if they left motherhood too late. But in a way she was right. By the time my fiancé and I started trying for children I was already 35 and, outrageously, was considered a ‘geriatric mother’ as I explored IVF.
We women know leaving parenthood late is a gamble, but if we want a career and a life it often feels like our only choice.
My fiancé wanted children so we tried to have them. I was still apprehensive. We might have been trying for a baby together but it was my life that was going to change. Even pre-baby I had to assume responsibility for taking hormone tests, changing my diet, starting folic acid and giving up drinking.
A recent poll by Woman’s Hour found 75 per cent of women felt the area in which they had the least equality with men was in their own homes. I’ve seen sleep-deprived friends sob about losing their independence after becoming mothers. And I’ve known furiously feminist women give up their careers for the boredom of play dates and watching Peppa Pig.
Not that they often shared such struggles openly, for fear of betraying their children – or motherhood itself. Likewise, women rarely admit to not wanting children because they’re afraid to be called selfish.
I worried motherhood meant giving up my ambitions. But perhaps recently my ambitions have changed. Since moving to the countryside I’ve found myself surrounded by mothers. It has been a pretty stark difference to London, where my mostly child-free friends were focused on work. Now, spending more of my time with children, I’ve been prompted to reconsider parenting.
I’ve loved hanging out with L’s daughter in St Ives arcade, taking F and her daughter for Somerset days out. I’ve realised children can be fun, enlightening and exciting – and also that I have a lot of love to give.
Sometimes I think about how if I’d stayed with my fiancé, by now I could have been a mother, and I feel the occasional pang of regret. Yet rather than be sad for what hasn’t happened, instead I’ve found myself exploring other ways of fulfilling my maternal feelings.
In Somerset, I meet with the charity PROMISEworks to discuss mentoring disadvantaged children. Recently, I volunteered to lead a writing course for 10-year-old girls on a farm. We spent the day dreaming up descriptions of animals, producing a mini newspaper together. It was joyful seeing their delight playing with words.
I’ve researched offering foster places in my home. I’ve also researched adoption, and discussed sperm donation with a gay friend. (All plans are on hold until I buy my house.)
I might yet become a mother. But rather than agonise over it, I’m drawn to walking my own path somewhere between maintaining independence and using that freedom to find other ways of nurturing.
You can read Katie Glass's column, What Katie did next, every Saturday from 6am on telegraph.co.uk
Follow our Stella Facebook page for the latest from Stella Magazine, and join the Telegraph Women Facebook group, a place to discuss our stories
