Essays & Collections, Parenting Humor, Women’s Non-fiction
Date Published: 09-24-2024
Judy Haveson always believed she would one day “have it all.”
Then she turned forty and wondered if she had waited too long. After
countless failed first dates and fewer second ones, she finally found love,
got married, and became a mother at forty-three.
Oldest Mom on the Playground is a collection of relatable, heartwarming,
and humorous essays. Written in her signature conversational style and with
a touch of sarcasm, Judy takes readers on her journey of getting pregnant
after forty (and delivering the baby during a full moon), raising a child in
New York City (including the time she lost him in a grocery store and found
him standing on Broadway), leaving the career she spent decades building to
volunteer as a preschool class rep, to becoming a card-carrying member of
the sandwich generation.
Judy offers no parenting advice, only personal reflection. And she takes
nothing in her life for granted. Her message to other midlife mamas is this:
trust your gut, let your life experience guide you, and pray no one ever
mistakes you for the grandmother.
EXCERPT
Hollywood paints childbirth as a glamorous event. The minute the baby comes out of the mother, it is placed on her chest for the first time, allowing the bonding to commence. Then, the baby is quickly whisked away to be cleaned up. The mother returns to her room, where a glam squad awaits to make her Instagram-worthy and ready to pose for a full spread in People magazine.
At least this is how I assumed it worked for new mothers like J.Lo. Soon after giving birth to twins, she appeared on the cover of People, posing like she hadn’t broken a sweat throughout the whole birthing process and instantly began sleeping through the night. Why did she look so beautiful when I looked like a monster? And I only had one kid, not two.
Then there’s the royal family. I never understood why Lady Di and, later, Princess Catherine were practically shoved outside the hospital hours after delivering their children to meet with their loyal subjects. And they looked so beautiful.
I could barely walk after my son arrived, much less stand upright in regular shoes. These ladies are like superheroes, holding their new-borns while wearing heels and tiaras, waving to a gawking crowd eager to catch a glimpse of royalty.
None of this happened for me.
My reward for more than twenty hours of labor and an unplanned C-section was swollen ankles and bags under my eyes that looked like I packed them for an extended vacation. I learned that the swelling I experienced, known as edema, happens to some women after a C-section. Swelling can occur in the face, ankles, hands, and feet.
“Look at my ankles! I’m the Elephant Man,” I cried to Adam. “The only shoes I can wear are my Uggs, which are too tight.”
I called my doctor to see if he could help me.
“I’m swollen all over! Please tell me there’s a water pill I can take to eliminate swelling,” I cried to my doctor.
“You just need to get plenty of rest and stay off your feet,” he instructed.
The doctor had forgotten about the baby he had delivered a few days before and that staying off my feet and getting rest wasn’t on my new mom’s agenda. I couldn’t help but think my forty-something body had failed me and might have bounced back quicker had I been younger. I couldn’t remember any of my friends suffering in this same way, so I assumed my advanced age was the culprit. Of course, I had no scientific research to confirm this assumption. I only had my gut, which was also swollen.
. . .
Maternity leave is a coveted time for new mothers to heal from childbirth, bond with their new babies, catch up on TV shows and movies, and get much-needed rest. Depending on the company you work for, time off for maternity leave can vary.
According to babycenter.com, the average time off for working women in the United States is ten weeks. Since the Family & Medical Leave Act was enacted, most women take off at least three months, some an entire year. This leave can be either paid or unpaid, or a com-bination of both.
The maternity leave policy for my company, which was small and family-owned, gave me two weeks plus any sick/personal/vacation days I hadn’t used during the year. The official start of my leave began during the Thanksgiving holiday weekend. Because I hadn’t used all my time off before Jack’s birth, I stretched my leave to six weeks, returning to work in mid-January.
Once I brought Jack home, our new nanny, Christina, came to the apartment daily to get us into a routine and allow me time to sleep and heal. At least that became the goal. She’d arrive at 8:30 a.m. to feed, change, and play with Jack. We’d spend the mornings putting Jack in all the clothes he’d received from family and friends, turning him into a baby model. He looked cuter and cuter in each outfit. I also photographed and videotaped his every move.
“He’s ready to be the next face of Baby Gap!” I told Christina. “Maybe I can retire.”
Christina also organized and cleaned Jack’s room and did his laundry. After she put him down for his afternoon nap, she went home.
“I may get very used to you,” I jokingly told Christina.
So this is how J.Lo did it, times two.
While most of my maternity leave was spent bonding with Jack and planning his future supermodeling career, my mind never strayed far from client work. Toward the end of my six-week sabbatical, I spent more and more time on the phone and answering work emails.
“Judy, you need to rest and regain your strength, not be on email. You’ll be back at work soon enough,” Christina told me.
She was right, but I needed to pay attention to my clients and the office. The last thing I wanted was to return to a mound of work. The six weeks flew by, and looking back, I realized I should have listened to Christina. For the first time, I wondered what my life would look like if I were only a mom.
About the Author
Judy Haveson is the award-winning author of Laugh Cry Rewind—A
Memoir. She is known for her sarcastic humor and enjoys sharing stories
about her life experiences and observations. Her fascination with
storytelling comes from her decades-long career in public relations. Judy
once had a boss tell her that there are two types of people: those who know
and those who want to know. That boss fired her, but his words became a
valuable lesson to always aim to be the one who knows. Judy lives in Hampton
Bays, NY, with her husband, Adam, son, Jack, and adorable Yorkie,
Toby.
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