Miracle Baby (2026)

Miracle Baby

My friend said, “A miracle baby could happen. You never know!”

I was 44. I had gotten off birth control pills and I was having hot flashes. Multiple times a day, an internal furnace turned on and I felt sweaty and uncomfortable. I was emotional, crying while listening to remotely sentimental audiobooks. I never used to cry. After some tests, my gynecologist informed me that I was not producing enough estrogen and that I was likely in menopause.

Since the age of 39, I had skipped periods about once a year while still on birth control. Each time my period didn’t come, I took a pregnancy test that came back negative. I wrote in my calendar, ‘Pregnancy Scare of 2019’, ‘Pregnancy Scare of 2020’ and so on, until in 2024, I had missed four periods.

In what I now realize were my peri-menopause years, my life had changed. At 42, I quit academia and became a data scientist for the LA county government. On my first day, I stood by the window on the 4th floor where my cubicle was and admired the view down below. Eighteen-wheelers rumbled through the intersection and made the building shake. Each day, I ate lunch looking out that window, watching people walking by or waiting for the bus. On cloudy days, I would squint my eyes to spot Downtown LA in the distance, faintly visible through the smog. Finally, I was happy. 

I was no longer a researcher toiling away in a university lab, doing surgery on tiny mouse brains, surrounded by smelly lab animals and graduate students. I was no longer expected to conduct experiments that failed more times than they succeeded. I no longer had to submit my work to be criticized by cranky anonymous reviewers. 

Finally in my 40’s, I felt that my work had real-world impact and I was respected and valued. My boss told me that I was working too hard. He stressed work life balance with a heavier emphasis on life. I started working out and socializing with friends I met through fitness classes. I regularly saw a therapist and started a community meditation practice. I started writing. I discovered that life could be joyful if I made time for creativity and dog-sat once in a while.

Just as I was starting to feel like I could finally take in life, in all of its forms, my body had reached the end of its fertile years.

I had never felt the maternal instinct or heard the biological clock tick. When I told my mom friends about my menopause, they seemed more distraught than I was. 

My friend, with hope twinkling in her eyes, said, “It might not be too late. A miracle baby could still happen!”

“No it won’t. John got a vasectomy.” I replied.

“Wouldn’t you regret not having a child, like everyone else?”

I don’t know if I ever would. What I do know is that everyone has a different path in life. 

The word menopause means pause or cessation of monthly cycles. Perhaps it signals a time when I can finally allow myself to pause, in the middle of my cyclical routines, and reflect on what I’m doing and why. Perhaps it represents a place of true, unencumbered curiosity and exploration. No more proving myself to anyone. No more pregnancy scares. The hot flashes stopped some time after I resumed birth control pills as a form of hormone replacement. The heightened emotions deepened my ability to feel and empathize with those around me.

I can mourn the loss of my fertility and a chance to have experienced motherhood. Or, I can celebrate the fact that in my 40’s I finally feel strong and at ease with myself. All my hard work in recent years have prepared me well to face the challenges coming in my 50’s and beyond.

A miracle baby did happen to me and it was the gift of menopause.

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