Yesterday, in honour of Mother’s Day, I shared this on my Instagram (check it out and be sure to follow me 😊), but I also wanted to share it here on my blog. 

My son is almost 16 months old and I still can’t believe I’m a mom. 

Two years ago I didn’t think I would be. We’d decided not to have children as we were both over 40 and my partner already had a son. In fact, two years ago this Mother’s Day I was grieving the child I didn’t think I would ever have. Feeling heartbroken I made an appointment with a psychologist. 

While I loved children, having my own seemed highly unlikely.  

As a teenager, I was anorexic and went years without a regular period. I struggled with disordered eating for nearly two decades and by the time I figured out how to eat for my health, I was in my mid-thirties and past my prime fertility years. 

My twenties were also consumed with work. I was a perfectionist and needed everything to be done a certain way (maybe you can relate?). As a teacher, I’d spend hours planning my week and creating lesson plans for each subject. I was reluctant to ask for help and spent many evenings and weekends on my own doing schoolwork. 

This kind of work ethic doesn’t lend itself to building a life with someone as I barely even had time to date. Almost all my time and energy were committed to my career and what little time was left I spent working out, the only thing in my life that helped my mental health. 

At 35 a friend of mine asked me if I wanted children. A friend of his had recently had a baby through donor sperm and was now raising the child on her own—would I be interested in doing that? 

At the time I wanted a partner more than I wanted a child, so the idea hadn’t even crossed my mind. Now seeing how supportive my parents are and how much joy their grandson has given them, I think we could have done it, but it wasn’t the right decision for me at the time. 

At 37 I considered freezing my eggs, but then realized I should have thought about it at least ten years earlier. Women’s fertility sharply declines after age 32, and by 37 there are 3% of the eggs they are born with left. 

Now I think young women should learn as much as they can about their cycles and fertility. Whether or not you want children at 22 (because you are allowed to change your mind as your circumstances change), learn as much as possible so you can make the right decisions for yourself. Having the knowledge is empowering and if you leave it too late, you might regret choices you didn’t know you should have made earlier. 

A few years later I met the man I thought was the love of my life. He said he wanted children too, and I realized how much I longed to be a wife and mom, to have a family of my own. 

He was more focused on his career and moving back home to Australia and I never got pregnant (I was emotionally and physically exhausted at work, and I suffered two ovarian cysts in 8 months… burnout probably doesn’t help you get pregnant either). We broke up during the pandemic and I truly thought that was my last chance to be a mom. I was devastated and mourned the loss of the family that I thought I was going to have. 

When I met Vinny in January 2021, having a family wasn't on my mind as I'd recently accepted a job teaching at an international school in Macau. However, he was kind, warm, funny, and French Canadian and I couldn’t help falling in love. He had a three-year-old son and we hit it off immediately. 

My life is infinitely better with Vinny’s son (my bonus child) in it.

He is bright and curious, loves being active outside, and has a great sense of humour. Watching him grow these past three years has been a privilege. 

One of his classmates asked me who I was in the playground one day after school and I said I was his stepmom. She was so excited for him: “You’re so lucky to have two moms! I want to have two moms too!”. 

The kids get it even better than many adults—he is lucky to have another adult in his life who loves him, cares for him, plays with him, helps him learn, and teaches him about the world.  

Vinny and I had decided not to have children of our own as we were over 40 and I was contemplating quitting teaching after a particularly rough year. I officially resigned in January 2022 and poured myself wholeheartedly into my new coaching business. We were building a life together. 

That Mother’s Day was a particularly difficult one.

It was the first time I truly felt that I would never have a child of my own and it hit me hard. While I still agreed with our decision not to have a child, it didn’t stop the grief that came with knowing I would never be a mom. 

That month I did a half-marathon in Canmore as part of my training for the Banff Marathon in mid-June. It was challenging—I was tired and nauseous and finished much slower than anticipated. Most of me thought it was just because the course was hilly (it is a mountain town), but a little voice wondered if I was pregnant. 

I didn’t share my wondering with anyone until texting my friend Michelle while in the grocery store for advice on whether to buy a pregnancy test or not. My periods had been a bit erratic in the last six months, but I put it down to perimenopause, so while I was late, late had become the new normal. 

Waiting for the test results was the longest 3 minutes of my life. I wasn’t sure how I’d feel about the outcome. Would I be excited, disappointed, upset? 

Even after seeing “Pregnant 3+” on the display, I wasn’t sure how to feel.

How would Vinny feel? How would his son feel about becoming a big brother? How would I run my business? Was I too old to have a baby?  

And then came all the worries because I was of ‘advanced maternal age’ (used to be called a geriatric pregnancy; I’m not sure if ‘AMA’ is any better). As someone with anxiety, I now had more things to worry about. All of the work I’d done during my forced leave of absence the year before helped me move through all the emotions I was feeling, and I embraced being pregnant. 

My doctor of over 15 years knew me and my burnout story, has told me several times over the last year how I probably would not have gotten pregnant had I stuck with my teaching career and I wholeheartedly agree.

I moved down to the Half Marathon for Banff (completed at 9 weeks!), then stopped running because needing a bathroom while running became a common occurrence. So I walked, biked, and hiked all summer and into the fall. I continued to lift weights and practice yoga (I’d been doing it for over 20 years, and made sure to do things safely). Other than being nauseous in my first trimester, I had a wonderful pregnancy. 

My little sunshine was born in January last year and I couldn’t be more grateful that he is here. 

Yes, he was a surprise, but that doesn’t make him any less welcome. He is my miracle baby. 

Vinny warned me that I’d feel overwhelmed by how much I loved him and that my love for him would keep growing as we got to know each other. He was right because I am still awestruck by his little face every morning. 

He is incredibly good-natured, happy, and smiles easily. He is curious and active and keeps us on our toes (his current favourite hobby is climbing the kitchen chairs to get on the kitchen table and hold onto the light fixture). His giggles make my heart happy and I love watching him figure things out. 

Both boys are gifts. I am so lucky to have them be a part of my life. I’m so grateful to be their (bonus) mom and I look forward to creating beautiful memories as a family for many years to come. 

There are as many journeys to motherhood as there are mothers.

Each story is unique with its own challenges and joys. Whatever your journey may be, and whatever stage you’re at, I wish you peace and joy this Mother’s Day.