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When my son Sam turned 4-months-old, a friend invited me to a neighborhood
playgroup. I believed these fellow mothers, my new co-workers in a sense,
were sent straight from heaven, though armed with strollers and diaper
bags instead of laptops and palm pilots.
Unlike my other friends without children, these women
possessed a deep understanding of my daily grind. They too, cried over
Cotton commercials while breastfeeding, and sometimes stayed in their
pajamas all day. They too, ran on limited sleep because of teething
babies with nasty diaper rashes.
When a question arose and I didn’t want to bother
my pediatrician for the umpteenth time, my new friends had a quick antidote
to whatever problem I faced, and it was still fresh in their minds,
as opposed to my mother or sister-in-law with kids in college. They
also knew tricks of the trade; a wet cloth for teething, Mylicon Drops
for gas, and what must-haves to make my life easier.
Nor did they think I was exaggerating when I stressed
over Sam’s reflux or earaches. These fellow mothers could talk
candidly about sore nipples and baby constipation, and amazingly enough,
they found Sam’s bowel movements as fascinating as I did. Or maybe
they just acted interested, which is more than you can say for most
people.
During our weekly playgroups, I noticed the socialization
was not only great for me, but my son as well. Sam’s face lit
up every time he saw another little person like himself.
You can also expect a pat on the back from them when
you brag about certain strides you’ve accomplished, like switching
your baby from bottle to sippy cup.
It’s sometimes easier to share special moments
with other moms, like the first time your darling smiles or runs into
your arms.
Unintentionally, I started distancing myself from
my friends without children. My days were a whirlwind of diaper changes,
baby baths and feedings. I couldn’t find time to brush my teeth,
let alone return phone calls or e-mails. Days meshed into months, and
I started to think I was living scenes from the movie, Groundhog Day.
After a couple of months, I experienced a motherhood
meltdown. Some days I found myself missing my job, but more importantly
adult conversation. My husband traveled and both of our families were
out of state. I knew I was in trouble when I couldn’t get the
Blue’s Clues songs out of my head, and became as engrossed with
the Teletubbies as my son.
As understanding as my new friends were, they hadn’t
known me long enough to see I needed a break. Desperately, I called
my old friends who knew me before and after Sam, and they helped me
through a difficult time.
Old friends are great because they bridge the gap
between the woman you were, and the mother you’ve become. They
keep you connected to yourself when you lose sight of what you need.
It’s also comforting to know you are still the same person; that
you haven’t aged 20 years like you might feel you have.
And most importantly, the novelty of babysitting is
something friends without kids actually want to do, because they can
send the little nymphs home.
Each person you meet is so unique; you don’t
want to lose them just because they may be at another stage in their
lives. If they end up choosing a parenting career like yourself, you
can guide them along, and if they don’t become mothers, you won’t
lose that friendship because of a hectic time in your life. As the years
go by, the older we get, it seems the harder it becomes to find lasting
friendships.
I also realized it’s essential for new moms
to surrender their role as primary caregiver, if only for an hour or
two.
I try to remind myself of the life saving advice on
airplanes, “In case of emergency, put the oxygen mask on yourself
first, before administering to your child.”
The same is true in life; if your needs are met you’ll
be a happier, stronger woman, and in return, a better mother. A sure
way to help meet your needs is by cherishing old friendships, and bonding
with new mothers.
If you’re lucky enough to have friends with
children and friends without, know that both are blessings, and it’s
worth embracing these relationships as you enter the amazing journey
of motherhood.
Erin McShay is a freelance writer and soon to
be mother of two. She is currently working on a book about motherhood.
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