Parents, March 2026, "What to Know About Being a Super-Old New Mom"

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All the older moms I’ve spoken to report countless sleepless hours worrying about their health and how it could impact their kids, seesawing between the cold comfort of knowing things can go medically wrong for people at any age and the discomfort of knowing the odds are weighted against us. 

SFGATE, Jan. 2026, "Bay Area company promised composting diapers. Then s—t happened."

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It’s a tale as old as time: A local company is acquired by some out-of-state entity, ham-handed attempts to centralize and expand operations ensue, and a lesser-quality service or product results. Then, there’s a customer exodus. In short, what tech critic Cory Doctorow dubbed “ens—ttification” had come, in quite literal form, for DyperSF.

Slate, Nov. 2025, "A Controversial Technology Makes Moms Like Me Possible. Some Doctors Aren’t Totally Sold."

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At a spring event for solo mothers and aspiring solo mothers, I was just one among several Gen Xers and old millennials cheering when a woman in her late 40s proudly proclaimed she would be taking “all the drugs” at a party that evening. She had an upcoming embryo transfer that would (one hopes) curtail the use of illicit substances. I relished being among my brethren. Yes, our ranks are swelling, but we’re not exactly the norm. It takes some effort to find other older parents.

Business Insider, May 2024, "I'm pregnant at 47. It's not how I once pictured things, but it was the right path for me."

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"Wear sensible shoes when you're carrying frozen sperm." Excellent advice given to me after I tripped on the first go-around, thanks to some un-sensibly heeled boots. I nearly sent the precious vial clutched in my sweaty palm flying into the bowels of Grand Central as I tottered toward my first attempt at getting knocked up solo.

Manifest Station, May 2017, "Not My Happiest Place on Earth"

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My complicated relationship with Epcot — well, to the extent that a geodesic sphere and a 5-year-old girl can engage in a “relationship” — began in the early ‘80s. Epcot was a pretty young thing on the eve of its international debut, a stunning 160-foot diameter dome hovering 14 feet in the air in Orlando, Florida. I was a cute pre-K kid on a post-divorce junket, a little thing awash in dreams of pirate boat rides and spinning teacups, 3,000 miles from my hometown of Oakland, California.

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People's Hello Giggles, July 2014, "Adult Props"

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I am, with a speed and frenzy that has led to panting, careening my way through Williams-Sonoma, Bed, Bath & Beyond, Fresh Direct, and various other online and brick-and-mortar shops. The countdown has begun, just hours now, to my mother’s arrival at New York City’s JFK airport. I am on a mission to prove that I am, in fact, a full-fledged competent, successful adult with my life totally together, despite various career issues, no long-term partner, no kids, no property, etc. And for this, I need props. Lots and lots of props.

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