Family legend has it that when my mom was a mere 21 years old she met my dad on a spring break trip to Florida. She had a fiancé back at home; it was scandalous. By the end of that whirlwind week, the fiancé was history and my parents were engaged.

Three months later they were married.

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To this date it’s the craziest thing my parents have ever done.

...I had entered motherhood just at the age when I was only too happy to stay home most nights in my jammies.

My brother and I came along soon after — first me and then my brother 22 months later. By the time my mom was 23, she was married with two kids in diapers. When I think of the idea of being a 23-year-old responsible for two small children — I shudder.

I had my daughter when I was 36. And while it was later than I had intended, I couldn’t help but see the upside of becoming a parent well into my 30s. My wild oats had long ago been sewn; I had managed to extend my adolescence longer than most. And quite brilliantly, I thought, I had entered motherhood just at the age when I was only too happy to stay home most nights in my jammies. Well played, middle-aged mom!

My parents were still young, healthy and thrilled to be on hand to help my husband and I with the daunting duties of childcare. From the beginning, they would take my daughter and my brother’s daughter on trips to the theatre, overnights at their home and mini getaways, giving us new parents a most welcomed break.

I know. I’m lucky.

But more than the gift of time off or special outings, I’m grateful for the meaningful connection my parents have cultivated with my daughter. They’ve been the cornerstone of our village and have had a huge impact on her development. As a mom of an only kid, it’s important to me she knows that other people — besides her parents — have her back. It makes me feel that she is a little less alone in the world.

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As a mom of an only kid, it’s important to me she knows that other people — besides her parents — have her back.

But I worry that my daughter may not have the same family experience if she decides to have a family of her own. If she waits as long as I did, I would be 72 years old by the time I’m a grandma. And while that is by no means old, there are no health guarantees at that age. I want to be there to provide the same important intergenerational link my parents have provided in my kid’s life.

I long to be the doting Nana who takes grandchildren on trips to the mall, buys them illicit treats and takes them to musicals. But since I got a late start, I worry it might not be possible.

And I’m not alone. According to Stats Canada, more women are now giving birth in their mid-to-late 30s rather than in their 20s. And while there are countless upsides to waiting to have kids until you’re older and established, the drawbacks are many — including the one I think about the most, not having the extended family connection.

Selfishly, I hope she has her kids a little younger than I did. But don’t worry, I’m not going to tell her that. I’ll keep that to myself and not put any undue maternal pressure on her that is sure to backfire. Instead, I’ll eat plenty of kale and exercise, just in case my wish doesn’t come true.