Delayed Motherhood: What It’s Really Like to Have a Baby at 46

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Susanna Bhagat
Susanna Bhagathttps://wonderlymade.com/
I’m a mom to a curious, energetic 5-year-old boy, and like many parents, I’ve spent countless hours searching for products that actually live up to their promises. Over time, I realized how overwhelming that search can be so I started this blog to help other parents cut through the noise. While I don’t personally use every product I mention, I take my research seriously. Each recommendation is the result of extensive comparison, expert insights, parent reviews, and careful consideration of safety, quality, and practicality. Whether it’s baby gear, toddler tools, or preschool picks, I share what I would genuinely consider for my own family and why. My goal is to save you time, reduce decision fatigue, and offer thoughtful, honest content that supports your parenting journey. If I can help you feel more confident about the choices you make for your child, then this space is doing exactly what it was meant to do.

Delayed motherhood brings unexpected challenges and deep rewards -here’s one mom’s honest story of having a baby at 46.

 

They call it delayed motherhood. Sounds so neat and tidy. Like it’s a well-planned, Pinterest-worthy chapter where you sip tea in a calm house and welcome motherhood with all the wisdom life has handed you. But here’s what I’ve learned: nothing about motherhood – no matter when it happens- is ever neat, tidy, or predictable. Especially when you have your third baby at 46, and your first baby is already 30.

Yes, my motherhood journey spans three decades. I became a mom at 21, again at 24, and then -surprise, world – once more at 46. And while society may be catching on to the idea of older motherhood, let me tell you from personal experience: this ride is beautiful, brutal, hilarious, humbling, and completely different the second (and third) time around.

Comparative Parenting Across Decades

When I had my first daughter, I was just 21. A fresh immigrant from the former Soviet Union (year 1993), newly married (too young and too unsure), and trying to make sense of a country that felt big, unfamiliar, and overwhelming. I thought marriage would give me a roadmap – turns out, it just handed me a baby without directions.

By 24, I had my second daughter. It was easier, in some ways – I knew the drill. But that’s also when postpartum depression quietly crept in. No one talked about it. Social media wasn’t there. I thought maybe I was just tired. Maybe I was weak. I now know better.

I raised those girls almost entirely on my own. No family help. No village. But I was young, energetic, and full of drive. I could power through exhaustion. And I did.

Divorce happened when my oldest was just 14. It was unpleasant, painful, and deeply distracting. Navigating single motherhood while trying to hold it all together for my daughters made that season even more overwhelming. But like                  so many women do – I kept going.

               Fast forward to 46…

delayed motherhood
My son Noah 

A son. A blessing. A joy. But also… the darkest time of my life. The postpartum depression was deep and suffocating. My routine – gone. My independence – stripped. I felt like a prisoner in my own home. I didn’t sleep. I didn’t shower. I couldn’t do the simple things that once made me feel like myself. I adored my son, but this chapter of motherhood felt unfamiliar and heavy in ways I wasn’t prepared for. And while I had always been healthy, fit, and (as people often told me) “didn’t look my age,” none of that changed the truth – I didn’t have the same energy as the young moms around me.

Societal Reactions

The people in my life? They were happy. Genuinely. I’m known for being energetic, healthy, and always on the go – so no one questioned my choice to have a baby at 46. If anything, they cheered me on.

The doctors were a mixed bag. Some were supportive and encouraging. Others? Not so much. A few raised eyebrows and tried to talk me out of it. But there were also amazing OBGYNs who stood by me, who helped me every step of the way, and who reminded me that age alone shouldn’t be the thing that defines our choices.

Support Systems (or Lack Thereof)

And then there’s the support system… or lack of it. Truthfully, I didn’t have one when I was younger. And not much has changed – except now, I do have an amazing husband. He’s my provider, my friend, my rock when it comes to just about everything except the day-to-day raising of our son. He works hard, and I respect that deeply. He’s doing what a husband and a father does – taking care of the present and the future for our family, making sure our son has everything he needs.

But when it comes to the daily trenches of parenting – the routines, the playdates, the endless “Mommy look at this!” moments – it’s mostly just me. I am my own village. And that’s exhausting, but also empowering. Because I’ve done it. I am doing it. And while I wouldn’t recommend going it alone, I’ll say this: if you are, you are stronger than you know.

Emotional Growth in Motherhood

Here’s what they don’t tell you about being an older mom: you’re a completely different person. I’m not that unsure 21-year-old anymore. I read parenting books. I follow child psychologists. I read every food label like it’s a contract. I know what’s in his snack box, what he’s reading, what apps are on the iPad (okay, tablet time happens sometimes – don’t judge me).

I’m more patient. More emotional. More likely to say “I’m sorry” when I mess up. Mom guilt is practically my shadow. I’ve become a helicopter mom – my younger mom friends lovingly tease me about it – but it’s hard not to be when every scrape feels like it’s happening to you. This time, motherhood is more intentional. It’s also more tender. I feel everything more deeply.

I go on every trip this kindergarten organizes. I show up, every time. I’m there 24/7 in my son’s life. I’m not just raising a child, I am raising a Human Being. In big, bold letters. One who is kind. One who knows to make at least one person a day happy. I want him to grow into a decent person, a decent man, a decent husband and father – and I’m determined to make sure that my age will never stand in the way of that.

The Honest Truth

My son is five now. I chase him through parks and walk for miles with him around New York City. We do it all – playgrounds, excursions, walks to nowhere. I do what any mom does, and I love it. But I’ll be real with you: there’s a reason they say to have your kids young. It’s not about judgment- it’s just reality. There’s an ease in youth that you can’t quite replicate later. Your body, your stamina, your flexibility – it’s different.

But would I trade this experience? No. Because every season of motherhood brings its own magic. And this one? It’s softer. It’s wiser. It’s full of gratitude. And even in the hardest moments I know I’m living something rare and beautiful.

Resources for Older Moms and Postpartum Support

If you’re navigating motherhood later in life or seeking support for postpartum challenges, you’re not alone. These resources offer comfort, connection, and guidance:

Remember, seeking support is a sign of strength. You’re not alone, and there are communities and resources ready to support you.

 

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