The Joys of Motherhood After 40

By Marianne Adams

The telephone message from Debbie couldn't have come at a worse time—at the end of a frazzled, exhausting Monday.  Debbie, a reporter for a local publication, wanted to do a story on "The Joys of Motherhood After 40," and I—the 49-year old adoptive mother of two lovely little Asian girls—was to be the subject of that story.

Monday, always hectic at our house, was even more difficult that day.  My girls, Johnna (5½) and Leah (3), were exhausted from a too-busy weekend.  The telephone in my home office rang endlessly with calls from potential adoptive parents who always seem to save their questions for Monday morning.  But no time to rest—I had lunch duty at Johnna's kindergarten that morning, followed by a meeting, after which I had promised the girls I would take them swimming.

I picked up the phone message from Debbie at the end of that frenzied day and listened with a mixture of puzzlement and annoyance.  Puzzled because the message was worded in such a way as to suggest that I was newly married and barely 40 years old.  As I relayed the message to Peter and collapsed into bed, I wasn't feeling very joyful.  "Worn out" would have been an accurate description—the joys of motherhood—right!

As I waited for sleep, I thought back over the years during which our two little girls had come to us.

Johnna Young Shin had been an infant, only 4 months old, when she came to us from Kang-Won Province in the Republic of South Korea.  Sunny-dispositioned, chatty, totally comfortable with herself, she had grown, at the age of 5½ years, into a bright and social youngster who enjoys kindergarten, music and many friends.  Johnna's wish for a "baby sister" took us to Fujian Province in China in June of 1996 where tiny Leah Chen Liu, then 2½ years old, became part of our family.  Sweet, gentle-hearted and shy, bright little Leah quickly adapted to her new surroundings, though with a few strange "twists."  The Reeboks we brought with us to China were the first real shoes she'd ever had and, for the first several nights, she had refused to take them off when she went to bed.  Bed was another stranger to her.  When, each night after being tucked in, she crept out of bed and crawled under it, it finally became obvious to us that she had probably slept on the floor.  Still, I thought as I drifted off to sleep, was "joy" the proper word to describe these experiences?

At midnight, Leah woke up screaming, "Mama!"  Peter and I rushed to her bedroom just as she vomited all over the bed, herself and the tile in the hall as we carried her to the bathroom.  We spent the next hour cleaning up Leah and the bed, again chuckling over the "joys of motherhood after 40."

In the meantime, sweet Leah, totally confused over what had happened to her, kept whispering, "I torry (sorry), Mama, for making mess."  It was the first time in the 10 months since she had come to us that she had been sick.  When I saw the confusion in her eyes, I asked her if she would like to have me sleep in her room in case she was sick again.  I'll never forget how her little face lighted up.  If she could have put her feelings into words, I'm sure that she would have said, "You would do this for me?"

I dragged a mattress into her room—where Johnna still slept soundly, unaware of the drama going on around her.  As I lay down on the mattress, I replayed the previous day, probably feeling sorry for myself, and then reviewed my to-do list for the next day.  All at once, Leah jumped out of bed, planted a kiss on my forehead and said, "Thank you, Mama, thank you for staying with me."  She did this not just once, but five times.  What a precious little girl, so thankful for such a simple deed that so many children take for granted.  As I lay there, tears running down my face, I prayed, "Thank you, Lord, thank you for reminding me of what motherhood is all about."

When I awoke the next morning, I found Leah fast asleep on the floor next to my mattress, with her small hand holding mine.

Oh, the joys of motherhood at any age!