As I said, I'm not purely focussed on the challenges of having a child this late in life. In so many ways, I feel much more prepared for fatherhood now than I would have been in my 20s. In fact, I had trouble narrowing this list down to just five. Perhaps I'll create an addendum to the list at some point.
When I think back on the level of maturity I possessed when Megan and I first got married, I shudder at the thought of that person being responsible for a child. The life lessons that come with time and from "paying your dues" hadn't taken hold yet. I was self-absorbed--to an extent--always trying to prove myself, and woefully ignorant of how the world works. I was still busy trying to figure out who I was and where I fit in. I was ill-equipped to guide someone else through self-actualization. Honestly, it is probably best for our daughter that she won't be raised by the young guy I was then.
Now, in my late 30s, I have far fewer questions about my identity. I have come to terms with the notion of human personality as always in flux, ever changing and adapting as circumstances in the surrounding world change. Knowing that, I am much more comfortable with who and where I am while fully recognizing that this is not who I will always be. I know that seems logical, but, though we may understand it to be true, we don't always accept it. It was a bit of a scary notion when I found myself first confronted by it, but I find it calming now. I understand that I am the amalgamation of all of the influences I have encountered (the people, places, things, and events that have affected me), and there will always be more to come: some that I can specifically choose to seek out or avoid, and others that will be inevitable or unexpected. When I was younger, I thought I knew who I was, when in reality I was ignorant. I have found--in this dual realization that I can both feel secure in my identity and recognize that I am never the same person from moment to moment--a serenity that, counterintuitively, grounds me.
I have also rediscovered my faith in recent years. For a few years when I was younger I struggled with ideas about the nature of God and his place in my life and the world I was encountering (which was very different from the one I had expected to encounter). I won't drone on about this; just suffice it to say that my faith has been rekindled and I take joy in seeking fulfillment through religious practice, but my understanding of faith is more mature, more fluid, and more inclusive that it once was, while still remaining firmly Christian. With this also comes a large, welcoming church community who love and support us just as we love and support them. I no longer feel adrift and confused.
All of this is to say that I am a far more mature, calm, reflective, and spiritual human being now (and Megan is, too) than when I was in those traditional childbearing years. And that, at least in my opinion, is a big advantage!
Megan has been a career woman working for the same company for the last 13 years and is respected in her field. I am so proud of all she has accomplished and continues to accomplish. Me? I am doing what I love! Very nearly every aspect of my life involves art. I make art. I teach art. I research art. I write about art. I help others find their own artistic language and voice. I study and teach art history. I am helping to build an art program at the university where I work. Oh, and I get paid to do this! In the years since we got married we have both earned advanced degrees in our respective fields, we bought a home (granted, the housing market is such that we have to rent it out rather than sell it, but still), we've each become respected in our careers, and we have (somehow) become pillars of our church community. We both know just how fortunate we are. Also, as all of the things mentioned in point #1 might suggest, I am not in denial that, at any moment, any or all of this could come crashing down. But, if it does, relationships that we can rely on--both professional and personal--have been established. During the years we worked to build up and establish all these things, I worry that a child would not have received the kind of parental attention that we will be able to provide now.
Eleven and a half years of marriage. The words "social media" had not yet worked their way into the common lexicon when we got married. We never had the privilege of going "Facebook official".
If you know either of us at all, in any capacity, then you know just how much in love we are. That is not to say that these past eleven and a half years have all been perfect and without trials. There have been times of extreme struggle, of anxiety, of looming worry and depression. Many stresses have been placed on our marriage over the years. Fortunately for us, we are both stubborn individuals who kept working hard to hold it together. If one of us was down, the other doubled efforts. I am so very fortunate and blessed to have met Megan, a woman who, for whatever reason, is willing to put up with me and seems to love me just as much as I love her. The strength of the bond we have now is due to a lot of hard work through the difficult times (and, again, in recognition that difficult times may be still to come). If, however, the stress of a child had been injected into those formative years...well, I'm just not certain exactly how things would have turned out. Now, I feel quite confident in our ability to remain a devoted couple while raising a daughter--even with all the stress I fully expect her to inflict over the years.
I worked for nearly eleven years at Youth Villages in Memphis as Teacher-Counselor (something like a house parent) working with young boys (ages 7-11) in residential treatment for emotional and behavioral issues. In that time, I learned many lessons that will be helpful in parenthood. I learned what not to do from the examples of many of the parents of the kids I worked with, but also from my own mistakes, especially in my early years in the job. I would engage in power struggles, fail to listen with empathy, fail to control my tone of voice, lose sight of the work we were doing, and forget to show love and compassion. With time and self-examination and self-adjustment, I overcame these obstacles and learned to be a much more patient, observant caregiver while still remaining firm on expectations. The job became much easier as a result. As such, I have already experienced the "you just wait until your father gets home" moments as other staff would use the treat of telling me about the children's actions in order to get them to behave. (If you worked with me in those years, don't you deny it!) There are so many parenting skills I have already gained that I won't have to learn through trial-and-error with our daughter (though I'm not so naive as to believe I have it all figured out).
And, boy, did they take to it well! It has been an absolute joy watching the way grandparenthood transformed my parents. They are amazing, patient, and (yes) spoiling grandparents. They've had a lot of practice to get it right, and our daughter is going to benefit from that practice. She will be one lucky girl, and I hope she realizes it.
Before getting into this list, let me say this: I am not, in any way, judging anyone who had children at a younger age. I am merely speaking from my own experience and specifically about myself. I don't believe any of this to be universal.
1. I have had time to mature.
When I think back on the level of maturity I possessed when Megan and I first got married, I shudder at the thought of that person being responsible for a child. The life lessons that come with time and from "paying your dues" hadn't taken hold yet. I was self-absorbed--to an extent--always trying to prove myself, and woefully ignorant of how the world works. I was still busy trying to figure out who I was and where I fit in. I was ill-equipped to guide someone else through self-actualization. Honestly, it is probably best for our daughter that she won't be raised by the young guy I was then.
Now, in my late 30s, I have far fewer questions about my identity. I have come to terms with the notion of human personality as always in flux, ever changing and adapting as circumstances in the surrounding world change. Knowing that, I am much more comfortable with who and where I am while fully recognizing that this is not who I will always be. I know that seems logical, but, though we may understand it to be true, we don't always accept it. It was a bit of a scary notion when I found myself first confronted by it, but I find it calming now. I understand that I am the amalgamation of all of the influences I have encountered (the people, places, things, and events that have affected me), and there will always be more to come: some that I can specifically choose to seek out or avoid, and others that will be inevitable or unexpected. When I was younger, I thought I knew who I was, when in reality I was ignorant. I have found--in this dual realization that I can both feel secure in my identity and recognize that I am never the same person from moment to moment--a serenity that, counterintuitively, grounds me.
I have also rediscovered my faith in recent years. For a few years when I was younger I struggled with ideas about the nature of God and his place in my life and the world I was encountering (which was very different from the one I had expected to encounter). I won't drone on about this; just suffice it to say that my faith has been rekindled and I take joy in seeking fulfillment through religious practice, but my understanding of faith is more mature, more fluid, and more inclusive that it once was, while still remaining firmly Christian. With this also comes a large, welcoming church community who love and support us just as we love and support them. I no longer feel adrift and confused.
All of this is to say that I am a far more mature, calm, reflective, and spiritual human being now (and Megan is, too) than when I was in those traditional childbearing years. And that, at least in my opinion, is a big advantage!
2. We are in a more stable station in life than we were in our 20's.
3. My wife and I have had time to develop a strong marriage before including children.
**WARNING: Mushy stuff ahead! If you don't want to be exposed to it, skip ahead to #4!**
If you know either of us at all, in any capacity, then you know just how much in love we are. That is not to say that these past eleven and a half years have all been perfect and without trials. There have been times of extreme struggle, of anxiety, of looming worry and depression. Many stresses have been placed on our marriage over the years. Fortunately for us, we are both stubborn individuals who kept working hard to hold it together. If one of us was down, the other doubled efforts. I am so very fortunate and blessed to have met Megan, a woman who, for whatever reason, is willing to put up with me and seems to love me just as much as I love her. The strength of the bond we have now is due to a lot of hard work through the difficult times (and, again, in recognition that difficult times may be still to come). If, however, the stress of a child had been injected into those formative years...well, I'm just not certain exactly how things would have turned out. Now, I feel quite confident in our ability to remain a devoted couple while raising a daughter--even with all the stress I fully expect her to inflict over the years.
4. I worked for almost 11 years with other people's children.
5. My parents have already had nearly 16 years of experience as grandparents.
