Motherhood After Menopause

Women 55 years of age don't usually choose to become mothers of young children; they find themselves burdened or gifted by some unfortunate circumstance with their children's children. I think mother nature probably knew what she was doing when she provided us with menopause by 50; and we all know what happens when you deny mother nature.

If I sleep 10 hours every night and try to remember or recapture the sense of humor of a 6 year old and I manage my natural manic inclinations and habits of more than 12 years of single professional life...I can do fairly acceptable job mothering at 55. However, I'm quite sure I never had a sense of humor when I was 6! I suspect that I am no more likely to develop one now than I was able to when my birth children were 6 years old. Any pretense that I could somehow rely upon the wisdom of age and experience to make this an enjoyable (fun) as well as rewarding effort has gone the way of other self-delusions. I certainly don't allow myself to dwell on my answer to my 84 year old mother who asked intently and with great concern if I had thought through my decision to adopt! Of course if had I thought it through I would have never done it!

Tevi is a very bright 6 year old girl; a Cambodian orphan I met while working in Phnom Penh. She has a tough formidable exterior, an impressive repertoire of behaviors; expressive and engaging mannerisms...but instinctively chameleon by culture and prior experience, her vulnerability lies precariously just below the surface. Compounding the complexity of her push-pull personality is her lack, or I should say my lack, of language skills to resolve problems through explanation. She lacks the verbal sophistication in English but because she is skilled in 6 year olds ability to manipulate, her behavior still demands discipline. A loud shout or a well placed smack on the bottom may get her attention but does not communicate the intended message and it makes you feel like a bully.

I reluctantly admit I made the decision to adopt Tevi out of a knee jerk response to an idealistic fantasy of saving a child and providing some meaning to my singular existence. I did yet not adore this child, nor am I generally enthusiastic about being with young children.

Understanding that Tevi's and my relationship will develop along another model than that of my birth children, I've begun to re-vision our life together. Responsibility and proximity alone creates a certain level of affection and attachment. Tevi is cognizant that I am her lifeline in this new world she is inhabiting and her natural eagerness thrives when she feels secure. This disparity in natural power means she is learning my moods and responses as quickly as she can. I have as much or more responsibility to understand her. So the first priority is to create a safe space for her to thrive and that means creating a good space for myself. What I have found to be the most important 'truth' for me (and I believe for most 'moms' however and whenever we get to be moms) is this: fulfillment comes from meeting the child's needs and never from attempting to have the child meet yours.

I'm still mucking through the uneven terrain of this new relationship. I've been sobered by its permanency and its demands. Energized and drained by her, I recognize the need to be purposeful and not depend on some innate maternalism to suddenly blossom and get us through. I also know that there is no philanthropic good fairy that is magically going to provide extra financial resources necessary to remove the mundane little battles of every day life which drain our energy and keep each of us from being »quality« moms. Out of this understanding, I've developed a couple of rules which I am, of course, still revising. In fact, the first rule is to forgive myself for not getting it right every time. Rule 2 is to get rest, lots of rest not only to have the energy to keep up with all the demands of single parenthood and work, but more importantly the energy to enjoy it.