A Season for Everything: Becoming a Mom Later in Life

I always imagined that motherhood would be a season of life I entered somewhere along the way, right alongside marriage, buying a house, building a career, and all the other milestones we assume will happen in a particular order. But as it turns out, God had a different timeline in mind for me. And while His timing has occasionally left me scratching my head, laughing at myself, or Googling things I never thought I would need to know, I wouldn’t trade my story for anything.

I started the adoption process when I was 39 years old. I was matched with my daughter, Penny, when I was 41, just after she had celebrated her first birthday. Today, I am 48, and Penny is about to turn eight.

Let me just say that becoming a mom at this stage of life is a beautiful, unexpected, occasionally hilarious adventure. It is also an experience that comes with a few surprises, particularly when you realize that you are not quite in the same season of life as many of the other parents around you.

When the Other Mom Was Born the Year You Graduated

You know those moments when someone says something completely innocent, and suddenly you feel like you’ve aged approximately 47 years in three seconds?

I had one of those moments recently at a school event.

I was chatting with a lovely couple whose child is in Penny’s class. We were having a perfectly normal conversation about high school when one of them asked what year I graduated.

“1997,” I replied.

The mom looked at me and said, “That is the year I was born!”

I genuinely didn’t know whether I should laugh or cry.

I mean, what do you even say to that? Congratulations on being born the year I was taking my senior pictures? Would you like me to tell you about dial-up internet and the days before everyone carried a phone in their pocket?

I smiled, laughed, and carried on with the conversation, but internally, I was doing some serious math.

These are the moments when you become acutely aware that you are not necessarily the same age as the other parents in the room. And while I know age is just a number, it turns out that number can feel awfully large when you’re standing next to someone who was born the year you graduated high school.

Of course, this isn’t the only time I’ve noticed the difference.

Some parents seem to be in their physical prime. They can chase their kids around the playground, scale the climbing equipment, and probably outrun their children without breaking a sweat.

Meanwhile, I’m Googling perimenopause symptoms and wondering why my back hurts after playing LEGOs on the floor for ten minutes.

Getting up from the floor has become its own Olympic event. And don’t even get me started on how old I will be when Penny graduates from high school. Yes, I’ve done the math. It’s scary. No, I don’t want to talk about it.

While some of my friends are becoming empty nesters, I’m trying to figure out which of the seven apps Penny’s school uses for communication and whether the important announcement was posted in the classroom app, the district app, the email newsletter, or somewhere else entirely.

Apparently, parenting in your late forties requires both reading glasses and a strong Wi-Fi connection.

It’s a different season of life, that’s for sure. And I know I’m not the only woman who has found herself becoming a mom later than she expected, looking around at the other parents and wondering how she ended up on a different timeline.

Penny & Joanna | Photo: Amanda Parker

God Has Always Worked Through Different Seasons

When I think about becoming a mom later in life, I’m reminded of Ecclesiastes 3:1:

“There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens.”

It’s a familiar verse, but I think it’s particularly meaningful for those of us whose lives haven’t unfolded in the order we once imagined.

We live in a world that loves milestones and timelines. We tend to picture life happening in a certain sequence: finish school, start a career, get married, have children, watch them grow up, and eventually enjoy an empty nest. When our lives don’t follow that pattern, it’s easy to wonder whether we’ve somehow fallen behind.

But Scripture tells a different story.

Sarah became a mother to Isaac in her old age (Genesis 21:1–7). Elizabeth gave birth to John the Baptist when she and Zechariah were advanced in years (Luke 1:5–25, 57–66). Their stories are different from mine, and their experiences aren’t a promise that every longing will be fulfilled in the same way. But they remind me that God’s work is not confined to the seasons we consider conventional.

God has always been able to bring about something meaningful in unexpected circumstances.

Psalm 31:15 says, “My times are in your hands.”

I love that reminder. My times are in His hands, including the years when I didn’t know whether I would become a mother, the long adoption process, and the seasons when I watched other women experience milestones I was still waiting for.

I spent years wondering when my season of motherhood would begin. I wanted to know how the story would unfold and when I would finally get to hold the child I had prayed for.

Looking back, I can see that God was present in those years, too. He was at work in my life long before I knew how my story would turn out.

And that brings me to something I have come to appreciate about becoming a mother later in life.

The Years Before Motherhood Weren’t Wasted

When I think about my life before Penny, I don’t look back with regret. I think about the career I established, the places I traveled, the friendships I cultivated, and the community I built. I think about the experiences that stretched me, the disappointments that strengthened my faith, and the lessons I learned along the way.

For a long time, I didn’t know how those experiences would fit into the bigger picture of my life. I certainly didn’t know when or how I would become a mom.

But now, when I look at my life with Penny, I can see how God used so many of those experiences to prepare me for motherhood.

The years of waiting taught me patience and surrender. My career taught me how to navigate challenges and solve problems. My friendships taught me the importance of community. My experiences gave me a perspective that I now get to share with my daughter.

Even the adoption process itself prepared my heart in ways I couldn’t have understood at the time.

I spent years wishing I could skip ahead to the part where I finally became a mom. I wanted the answer, the resolution, the moment when the waiting would finally be over.

But now I can see that the years before Penny came home were part of my story, too. They shaped me into the woman who would eventually become her mother.

Perhaps that is one of the gifts of becoming a mom later in life. You bring your whole story with you. You bring the experiences, the lessons, the relationships, and the faith that have grown through all the seasons that came before.

I know that isn’t everyone’s experience. Some women arrive at motherhood carrying grief, disappointment, or circumstances they never would have chosen. Not every season makes sense when we’re living through it, and not every difficult experience comes with an obvious explanation.

But I do believe God can meet us in every season and continue to work in us, even when we cannot yet see what He is doing.

Isaiah 46:4 offers this beautiful reminder:

“Even to your old age and gray hairs I am he, I am he who will sustain you. I have made you and I will carry you; I will sustain you and I will rescue you.”

His faithfulness isn’t reserved for one particular stage of life. He is with us in the waiting, in the becoming, and in the living out of the things we once prayed for.

Learning to Embrace the Season We’re In

Of course, understanding all of this doesn’t mean comparison never creeps in.

There are still moments when I look around at school events and feel the age difference. There are times when I wonder how I’ll keep up with Penny as she gets older. And there are days when I wish I had the energy of a 28-year-old mom rather than the desire to sit down with a heating pad.

But I’m learning that being a good mom has very little to do with being the youngest, the most energetic, or the parent who understands every new technology the school introduces.

It has much more to do with showing up, loving your child, learning alongside them, offering guidance, apologizing when you get it wrong, and creating a home where they know they belong.

Those things aren’t reserved for women who become mothers at a particular age.

And this lesson extends far beyond motherhood. Maybe you’re starting a new career while your friends are retiring. Maybe you’re rebuilding after a difficult season while everyone around you seems settled. Maybe you’re stepping into something new at an age when you thought you would have everything figured out.

It’s natural to look around and wonder why your life looks different. But Ecclesiastes 3 reminds us that there are different seasons for different purposes. We don’t all experience them in the same order, and we don’t all arrive at the same milestones at the same time.

I want to be careful not to spend so much time looking over at someone else’s season that I miss the beauty of my own.

I want to be present for Penny’s childhood. I want to enjoy the little things, even when they come with tired eyes and an aching back. I want to embrace the opportunity I’ve been given rather than spend my days wishing it had arrived sooner.

Because this season, with all its challenges and surprises, is a gift.

If You’re a Mom on a Different Timeline

If you’re reading this and became a mom later in life, I hope you can find a little comfort in knowing that you’re not the only one navigating this experience.

I hope you can laugh at the awkward moments when someone assumes you’re a grandmother or when you realize the other parents at school were born after you learned to drive. I hope you can acknowledge the challenges that come with parenting at a different age without allowing those challenges to overshadow the joy.

Maybe you became a mother through adoption after years of waiting, as I did. Maybe infertility, loss, remarriage, or circumstances you never anticipated changed the path you thought you would take. Whatever brought you to this season, you don’t have to apologize for the story that led you here.

You can be grateful for the life you lived before motherhood and grateful for the life you’re living now. You can acknowledge that some things are harder while still recognizing the beauty of this season. And you can trust that God can use the experiences you’ve had, the lessons you’ve learned, and the years you’ve spent waiting to shape the mother you are today.

Philippians 1:6 reminds us:

“Being confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus.”

God is still working in you. He was present during the waiting, and He is present now. Your story is still unfolding.

I don’t know exactly what the next ten years of motherhood will hold. I know there will be more school events, more conversations that remind me I’m getting older, more technology I don’t understand, and probably a few more Google searches about what is happening to my body.

But I also know there will be laughter, adventures, hard conversations, new traditions, and countless opportunities to watch Penny grow into the person God created her to be.

And when I think about it that way, I wouldn’t trade a single year of the life that brought me here.

I didn’t become a mom too late. I became Penny’s mom in the season that became our story, and I am so grateful for it.

So, if your life looks a little different from the one you imagined, perhaps you can give yourself permission to stop measuring it against someone else’s. You don’t have to rush through the season you’re in to catch up with someone else, and you don’t have to have the next ten years figured out to appreciate the day in front of you.

As Ecclesiastes reminds us, there is a season for everything. We may not always understand God’s timing, and we may not have chosen every twist and turn along the way. But we can trust the One who holds our times in His hands.

As for me, I’ll be over here trying to get up off the floor after playing LEGOs, reminding myself that my back may be getting older, but my heart is right where it belongs.

And honestly? I wouldn’t have it any other way.