Pre-2007

Prior to the Fall of 2007 I was, according to the psychiatrist I visited to get my rx for anti-depressants, a glass-is-half-empty kinda girl. This kindly old Cuban immigrant doctor (whose wife of 55 years was loosing her fight to Alzheimer's) would practically implore me to see my life as being a glass half full. I would breakdown and cry. How could I see my life positively when I was so broken-hearted over being alone and over 40 with no prospects for the things I wanted most: a husband and children of my own?

It didn't help that I was working at a job that gave me little satisfaction and even less money. In addition, I was plagued on and off with debilitating headaches. I wanted desperately to change my way of thinking; to believe in the possibility that I could be happy, but at 43 years old I felt only hopelessness.

I mean marriage, of course, could happen at any age; there is no "biological clock" that tells your body that you can not be joined in wedded bliss, but in our current realm of scientific knowledge, there is a very loud clanging, that reverberates loudly, telling a woman over 40 that her child-bearing years may be down to days, if not already completed. It was a devastating feeling, one that anti-depressants didn't seem to help.

My counselor would try to tell me that there still was hope, that it could all work out, and as much as I wanted to believe him, I whined back, "I'm 43 years old!" He encouraged me to find out more, to learn whether or not someone 43 could get pregnant and that led me here and here which I found to be very informative, but more importantly, hopeful.
But the best article I came across was this one. I loved it. I love that she didn't even get married until she was 45!