So, hubby and me… we've been talking about having another baby.

No big deal, but a HUGE deal. I mean, people do it every day -- but for any one family, it's about as massive a change as you can imagine. We're all for another child. We love kids, and we have a great, stable home life. With three other little ones in the stable, we've pretty much got a handle on this parenting thing (at least as much as you CAN have a handle on it. Unlike dogs, they're never fully trained!).

So what's the problem?

I'm afraid we're too old.

How old, you ask?

Well, put it this way -- many of my peers are beginning to experience hot flashes, and NOT the kind from standing too close to a photo of Hugh Jackman. 

And hubby... How to put this politely… he's hanging on to middle age with every last hair on his head.

That makes us sound really old. We're not really old. But we're pretty darned old for having a new baby. I know, I know… plenty of women have babies in their 40s. And plenty of men father new children well after that. But I'm not sure it's fair -- to the child.

I keep thinking that if I got pregnant now, I'd be 46 when he or she started kindergarten (I was 32 when my first child started school). 

I'd be 57 when that child started driving (Oy! I hope my old heart could take it!).

I'd be almost 60 when that child graduated from high school.

I'd be nearly 70 by the time the grandkids started to come along.

And that child of mine, the one I will love with all my heart, will only be in his or her late 30s when I kick the bucket. 

And the view is worse for my husband, who's 14 years older than I am. 

Is it fair to give birth to a child who will likely lose their father before their 30th birthday? Whose dad probably won't be able to play tackle football with him in high school because his hip replacement won't be able to stand it? Whose parents may be too tired to give them the attention and vitality they deserve?

I think of all this baby could add to our lives. The snuggliness, the love, the growth opportunities, and oh, let's make sure I mention that downy-headed new baby smell! I look around the table at dinner and can't help but feel that someone is missing. And then I look at my other three gorgeous children and think I am being way, way too greedy to want more than I already have. 

Every day, I ponder this question. And every day I think I've made the decision -- I'm too old. We'd have to get a new car. It's too expensive. It's not practical. I'd have to lose the baby weight all over again. No, we're not doing it.

And every day, I wake up and start that wondering all over again… Should I? Should we?

I'm still not 100 percent sure. But I do know this: We're not getting any younger. 

 

What do you think? How old is "too old?"