Grannymom proves doubters wrong as twins at 60 show what it means to defy expectations

When Frieda Birnbaum's twin boys turned 18 last year, she had every reason to feel vindicated. The woman once mocked as America's 'grannymom' had successfully raised healthy, confident young men who were heading off to university—and at 78, she was still going strong.

It's been nearly two decades since Frieda made headlines around the world for having twins at age 60, becoming the oldest American woman to achieve this milestone.

Critics questioned her motives, predicted disaster, and openly wondered what kind of childhood her boys would have with such an 'elderly' mother.

Today, with Jaret heading to Northeastern University and Josh attending Stevens Institute of Technology in New Jersey, those predictions have proven spectacularly wrong.

A story that resonates across borders

Frieda's journey offers fascinating insights for Australian families, particularly given our own changing demographics around motherhood. Australia's median age for mothers has risen to 31.9 years, with women aged 30 to 34 years having the highest fertility rates, and the average age of mothers increasing from 30.0 in 2010 to 31.2 in 2022.

More striking still, the proportion of first-time Australian mothers who are 40+ years has increased from 2.8 per cent to 3.2 per cent in just one year to 2022—more growth than in the previous decade. While Frieda's situation was extreme, her story touches on broader questions about age, motherhood, and societal expectations that many Australian families are navigating.

When healthcare systems say no

Perhaps the most telling aspect of Frieda's story is what it reveals about different healthcare systems. Unable to find American doctors willing to treat her due to age restrictions, she travelled to South Africa for IVF treatment, reportedly paying around $3,000—a fraction of typical Australian costs.

Australia has no national legislation imposing a maximum age for IVF, though guidelines in states like South Australia recommend 50 years as the maximum age, while some fertility clinics don't normally treat women beyond their 50th year, and Victoria's public fertility system requires patients to be under 51 years for donor egg treatment.

The contrast highlights how healthcare policies can shape reproductive choices—and how determined individuals sometimes seek alternatives abroad.

The energy paradox

One of Frieda's most compelling claims has been that raising children in her 60s and 70s was easier than in her 20s and 30s. This wasn't just about having more resources or patience—she insists she had more physical energy too.

'I remember wondering, 'Is this all there is?'' she recalls about her earlier motherhood experience. By the time she had her youngest children, she'd completed her PhD, established her psychology practice, and developed a strong sense of self beyond motherhood.

This resonates with many Australian women who are choosing to have children later. The proportion of women having their first child at 30+ years has more than doubled from 23 per cent to 54 per cent in recent decades, often after establishing careers and achieving financial stability.

Lessons in late-life reinvention

Now 78 and facing an empty nest, Frieda isn't slowing down. She's writing a memoir, continuing her psychology practice, and dreams of hosting her own television show. Her approach to aging offers practical wisdom for Australian seniors facing their own transitions.

Her message that 'life begins at any age you want it to' extends far beyond having babies later in life. It's about refusing to be defined by chronological age, whether that means starting new careers, moving to new places, or pursuing long-delayed dreams.

The Australian context

While few Australian women would follow Frieda's exact path, her story illuminates broader issues about aging, choice, and societal expectations that are particularly relevant here.

Australia has seen a decrease in teenage mothers (from 3.8 per cent in 2010 to 1.6 per cent in 2022) and an increase in mothers aged 40 and over (from 4.1 per cent in 2001 to 4.9 per cent in 2022).

This shift reflects changing social and economic realities—from the need to establish careers and financial security to improved healthcare and changing attitudes about what constitutes an 'appropriate' age for major life decisions.

The health considerations are real, of course. Pregnancy complications increase with age, including higher risks of miscarriage, chromosomal abnormalities from age 35, and complications such as gestational diabetes, placenta praevia, and caesarean sections being more common among older mothers.

These factors make Frieda's positive outcome more remarkable, though certainly not something to replicate without extensive medical consultation.

Beyond the controversy

What's perhaps most striking about Frieda's story isn't the age at which she had children, but how she's approached aging itself. Rather than accepting society's script about what people her age 'should' be doing, she's continued evolving, growing, and pursuing new goals.

Her psychology practice, built on helping women find fulfilment beyond traditional roles, reflects her core belief that women need their own sense of purpose to be truly supportive partners and parents. This wisdom applies regardless of when someone becomes a parent—or whether they become one at all.

The criticism she faced reveals as much about our discomfort with women who refuse to follow conventional timelines as it does about the genuine concerns around older parenthood. Why, she asked reporters, is having children later seen as virility in men but madness in women?

What comes next

At 78, Frieda's television ambitions might seem unlikely to some, but her track record suggests otherwise. She's already proven that age-based assumptions are often wrong, that energy can come from purpose rather than youth, and that reinvention is possible at any stage.

For Australian seniors contemplating their own next chapters—whether that's after retirement, becoming empty nesters, or facing other major life transitions—her approach offers a compelling alternative to conventional expectations.

The key isn't necessarily having babies at 60, but rather refusing to let age define your possibilities. Whether it's returning to study, starting new ventures, or simply maintaining the mindset that your best chapters might still be ahead, Frieda's story suggests that our preconceptions about aging may be more limiting than age itself.