Dear Wonder Woman,
I recently read an article about your
ridiculous amazing story here. While I’m very interested in your situation, I’d also like to take a ride in your invisible plane after you read this letter. So call me, we’ll do lunch.
Since you already have 13 children, I understand this ain’t your first rodeo. You’ve probably seen everything when it comes to child rearing. But now you’re 65, There was a huge difference in my parenting ability between the birth of my first kid (10 years ago) to the birth of my last kid (one year ago), and I’m not even 40 yet. I’m pretty close though, and I’m fucking tired.
I’m tired because of lack of sleep. I’m tired of little people who need things from me all the time, I’m tired of cleaning up sick and pee on toilets. I’m tired of cooking and cleaning and questions (Jesus Christ the questions).
That being said, I’d assume you are monumentally more tired than I am. But you’re going to have 4 babies, along with the 13 you all ready have. Don’t you think that’s a bit much, even for a Wonder Woman like yourself? I’m sure if I used your magic, truth evoking lasso to produce your most honest thoughts, you’d say, “Holy shit, what have I done? This might not have been an awesome idea.”
Here’s the thing, it’s not that I think a 65-year-old woman wouldn’t make a great mother. I’m just wondering why, at 65 years old, someone would procure donor eggs, and donor sperm, to have more children? And where would you find a doctor who is willing to support this endeavor?
When I decided I was done having babies, it wasn’t a decision I weighed lightly. I still struggle with the fact that I love having babies, and would have had many more given unlimited monetary resources and the assurance that they would all be born healthy, even though I’m considered “advanced maternal age”. But you? You are beyond that. Way beyond… and I cannot, for the life of me, understand why anyone would want to become a parent again at 65.
I hope you have lined up some help to wash your cape.
You’re gonna need it.
Hugs and Kisses,
P.S. I’m completely serious about flying in your plane. I’ll even wash it when we’re done.