100 days from now, I’ll turn 30.
Realizing this has left me a little contemplative about growing up, aging, expectations and mortality. It’s not all doom and gloom, but as I let my thoughts wander on these subjects, I’m struck at the diversity of my opinions and experiences on the whole matter.
I’m turning 30. What’s the big whoop, right?
I’m not really sure. And while I know that I feel very strongly about this upcoming milestone in my life, I’m not really sure what exactly I feel. So let me give you a peek at what’s been going through my head the last few days.
I have had exactly 2 grey hairs.
One discovered many months ago in the bathroom at work: a single silver thread sticking straight up from the crown of my head. Its silvery glimmer in the fluorescent lighting is what caught my eye. I pulled it out and looked at it for a long time before washing it down the sink.
The second was found just two weeks ago by my husband while we were Skyping with my parents. He took particular satisfaction in both finding and plucking it, as he’s had a smattering of grey for years now (that I constantly rag on him about). I had missed this one, hiding on the back of my head.
I have found these two singular grey hairs to be like some mutant growth on my body. They repulse me and I hope I don’t have to see them again for another 30 years or more.
The Asian Aging Process
I’m half-Japanese. My grandmother (father’s mother) is 94? 95? I’ve lost count. Anywho, she’s up there and yes, has a head of ghost-white hair. She also rides her bike several miles everyday and plays croquet every morning for 2-3 hours with her buddies (and having seen this when we went to Japan, it’s adorable). This woman is still kicking ass and taking names like she’s 25.
But this totally happens:
For me, this gets complicated. Because that big MENOPAUSE! burst? Slip that in between age 20-30 and 30-50. Hopefully I don’t look like the age 60-70 panel.
Sometimes I feel like it though. Hearing my knees crack and creak in yoga class doesn’t make me feel good about myself. Nor does the fact that I need to take calcium supplements and hormones to keep me feelin’ fit and fine.
Or otherwise I might start to shrivel up and start looking like the 120 year old.
“You’re not old enough yet.”
Growing up with a sister 8 years my senior lead to some interesting fights with my parents growing up.
Me: “Why can’t I stay out late? Yuko does!”
My parents: “You’re not old enough yet.”
Me: “Why can’t I go out to the movies by myself? Yuko does!”
My parents: “You’re not old enough yet.”
Me: “How come Yuko gets to [insert teenage activity here] but I don’t?”
My parents: “You’re not old enough yet.”
You get the idea.
So when I turned 18 I felt like I was such hot shit struttin’ around because hey, I’m finally old enough to do stuff now. When I turned 21, hell yes I was going to Atlantic City for my first (legal) drink and to gamble at the casinos.
When I turned 25, I was excited I could rent a car. It stops being fun after 25.
It’s like, I’m 30! That means I get to…
…pay my mortgage? File my taxes? Get my car inspected?
Pretty lame all around.
“You’re so young.”
When I told people I had premature ovarian failure at 26, I would get the whole, “Wow, you’re so young” routine. Let’s face facts here: anything less than 42 is young it comes to POF. And then when we tell them we’re going to pursue IVF with donor eggs, I get the “Well, it’s good you’re so young” comment.
I don’t feel young at all. And what does that comment even mean? Like I’ve got time on my side to have children?
Because time is not a factor once you’ve been hit with the POF hammer. In fact, the doctor who diagnosed me said we could take our time building our family since donor egg and/or adoption were our only options. The only reason we’ve taken our time is because having babies through ART ain’t cheap.
If I could have had a child at 26, I would have.
There are plenty of women my age – and younger – who already have a child. Who might even have, oh, I dunno, 4 already? I can think of at least one person younger than me with 4 children. There’s nothing like getting lapped four times by someone a year younger than you.
100 days and counting.
100 days, 100 opportunities. 100 chances to do all the stuff I always said I wanted to do in my twenties.
Go to college: check.
Get a job: check.
Get married: check.
Get a house: check.
Have a family:
…
…
Right. About that.
I’ve said before how I thought we’d be parents by now and that I have this weird thing where I really wanted to parent before I was 30.
So unless through some science-fiction miracle I can conceive, gestate, and birth a child in the next 100 days, that’s simply not happening.
Reading back through this post, its sounds like I’m facing a little disappointment going into my thirties. Maybe a little. But I’ve also got a lot to celebrate that I’ve managed to accomplish in my twenties.
As for the rest of these little vignettes… I’m still unpacking all of that emotionally.
…All while I search my scalp in the mirror, frantic with paranoia as I keep a lookout for any more stray greys, watching the calendar page flip another day closer until I turn 30.
I remember clearly that I refused to set family (or any other) goals when I was in my 20s. I didn’t meet my husband until I was 30.
On a deep level, I was terrified that the minute I set a goal I would set myself up for disappointment – a “philosophy” that would follow me long past my wedding date and prevent me from pursuing some really interesting things in life – like a family.
All that aside, I do want to share some good news with you: I found that my 30s were WAY better than my 20s, for several reasons. Mostly because I knew who I was as a person far better, and that just made life a lot more fun. That’s definitely my wish for you – and that you finally cross the family-making finish line!
I too had a “thing” about having a baby before 30. It also did not happen for me. However 7 months later we got the call that changed our lives. I soon realized that my age didn’t matter and the love in my heart is just as good as it was at 29 years old as it is at 30. Hoping a positive pregnancy test will be in your near future!
That cartoon is hilarious: I live in the Bay Area where there is a sizable Asian American community and some of my friends in their 30s (who look like the cartoons – gorgeous and perfect) have mentioned this phenomenon and that they are scared of menopause!
I totally agree with Justine: you rocked your 20s and no doubt will do the same in your thirties 🙂
I (vaguely) remember the days when I thought I’d be done having babies by the time I was 30. So naive. Comments about age are so not helpful. All that really matters is that you love your kids, no matter what age you are. I feel like I might even be a better mom in my 30’s than I would have been in my 20’s. And you’ll be a great mom, too, Keiko!
Also, is it weird that I like my gray hairs?
I am also turning 30 this year and have two stubborn grey hairs that come back days after I’ve plucked them. I also won’t have had kids in my twenties…and my plan was to have 2 by 30. I really dislike the age comments. I feel they’re very dismissive. It really doesn’t matter if you’re 25,35, or 45, if you’re not having kids when you planned to and wanted to it sucks regardless.
Oh man, I got my first gray hair at 25 and I just keep finding them. The “pluck as needed” strategy isn’t working so well anymore and I’m wondering if I can hold out another year to start dyeing my hair at 30 as I had always planned… we’ll see.
So recognise your wanting your family before you are 30, I was in the same boat. Becuase of trying to get financially stable, we didn’t actually start trying until we turned 29. we’ve just turned 33 and it sucks to have the diagnosis of needed egg donors to get our family. We also still get told we’re still young, but I’m sure give us two years and we won’t be considered – people need to realise the cost – physical and emotional of having treatment means that for us I can’t undergo loads of cycles each year, and so it takes time to get us to our goal of having a family.
My brother greyed before he was 25. Me, I’m just finding crops of greys now. I know it’s difficult to come to terms with a number when you had plans for what that year would look like. At 30, I was married, no kids, had almost finished a second graduate degree … it was very different from what I’d imagined only 10 years before.
You rocked your 20s, Keiko. I suspect that your 30s will kick ass.
The illustration of the Asian Aging process made me laugh–and cry a little inside, because it’s so true and I’m half-Chinese. As for the white hair, my first was found at age 13 by my hairdresser, while getting ready for Winter Formal. Thankfully, that’s been the only one to show up thus far.
I know what it’s like to be the “young one” crackling and creaking my way through a yoga class, or even just walking around. It was so embarrassing watching my 77 year old grandmother walk the SF hills and climb the stairs better than I could at 23. Arthritis sucks.
Above all, I relate to the list of things to do in the 20s. Like you, I had them all checked off–except for the kids thing. 3 years later I still don’t have it checked off, but I’m getting closer. Hopefully in the next 2 months a donor egg embryo or two will be transferred to our gestational surrogate, and we’ll be parents by this time next year.
Good luck finding your egg donor. It took a while, but we were able to find one with the ethnic background we wanted.
Not much to say, only that milestone birthdays are very hard. And that I had Janet when I was 39 and I was so happy I didn’t have to go into 40 still childless.
I can honestly tell you that I loved my 30’s. Even though I didn’t have a baby. I was always told I was too young for this or that or I was such a baby. Growing up I was the youngest in my class all the way through high school. Heck, I even got married young (at 19).
It’s such a shame that certain parts of our bodies feel so much younger than they are physically and other parts (like our eggs) act older than we feel.
I have so much hope for you that your 30’s will bring you a child or children.
Look forward to an amazing decade!
Actually, even with donor eggs, time and age ARE still a factor – as I have discovered becoming a mum through donor eggs at the age of 42. Although what we went through was a process that led us to our son, so in that sense I wouldn’t change a thing, it would be a lot easier to be a parent at 32 than 42 – younger, fitter, fewer health issues (I accumulated quite a few in my thirties), parenting a baby at the same time as most of my friends rather than just as their kids hit their teens. There’s also the “when my kid is 18, I’ll be 60” thing. My own mum was 45 when I was 18 – young enough to enjoy and make good use of her new-found free time and young enough to be a fit grandmother to my younger sister’s two kids (age 9 and 11 now). She’s definitely struggling to babysit our one-year-old at the age of 70. POF is NOT good – can’t agree with you more – but knowing sooner rather than later that you need DE is definitely an advantage, as is your youth. I remember turning 30 with no kids (and no husband) and feeling very low about it, so I get where you’re coming from, but hopefully your 30s are going to be the best decade yet! And I can wholeheartedly recommend DE :-).
i relate very strongly to so much of this post. long before i experienced infertility or the death of my son, i had already learned that life doesn’t happen the way we expect it to. to my view, at 37 still not having a living child, you ARE young, and yet i know it’s all relative. and it hurts not to be able to control all those parts of our lives. we so carefully planned and executed everything else – so why can’t this go according to plan, too?
feel better about the gray hair! i found my first when i was 17, and am now about half gray, and spend way too much having my hair colored on a regular basis.
at 30, you only have to wait 5 years to run for president!