My birthday was Tuesday. I am now 42 years old–and the “geriatric” mother of a newborn.
I understand that 42 is just hours older than the 41 years I was the day before my birthday. But 42 is a little jarring for me. Two years ago when I turned 40, my older cousin told me that the 40’s have been the best years of her life. She has teenagers, though, not a newborn. And maybe my status as a new mother is not the reason for how old I feel, but regardless, right now I feel old.