It’s baby season among my friends, many of whom are sproglidating for the first time as they approach their early thirties.

According to this article in The Independent,  those who haven’t need to pull their socks up, as fertility experts are recommending that all women have children by the age of 35 to prevent the fertility problems and declining egg quality associated with ‘elderly primigravidas’ AKA first time mums over 35.

I got pregnant at 24 and had two kids by 27. Leaving out the pros and cons of having kids young or older – they are myriad, the fact is that leaving babies till later ign life causes complications.

And our stretched maternity units bear testament to the increasing complexity of a generation of women (often having no option but) leaving it later to have kids. However, until government policies make it easier for women  to afford to have children earlier (and it is my belief that they don’t),  most women will leave it until they are in their mid thirties to conceive – which may be okay for the first child but certainly more complex to provide it with a sibling.

And, as a mother of two, I know that my body bore the not inconsiderable burden of pregnancy much better than my older  maternal peers – and made a full recovery, boobs, tummy and all.

I am, frankly daunted by the idea of doing it again, not even a decade on, at yet 33. changes. Not least because even at 25 it took me two years of hard crunches to get my tummy back to an approximation of what it was. As well as the sleepless nights. Not to mention the morning sickness, stretch marks and Christ, the labour. I’ll stick with pugs for now.


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