I want to take a moment to apologize. I’m truly sorry for how our friendship has evolved and for the changes that have taken place—both in my life and within myself.
Becoming a mother has been a profound experience, one that I know you understand even without being a parent yourself. It’s a journey filled with excitement, challenges, and a fair share of anxiety. We both anticipated that it would transform my life, and it certainly has.
We knew things would shift: our conversations would become less frequent, our meet-ups would dwindle, and my punctuality would become a distant memory. While we understood that I would miss some gatherings due to unforeseen circumstances—like a sudden illness or a babysitter canceling—I never fully grasped just how deeply motherhood would reshape my everyday self.
You continue to make an effort. You come by, bringing thoughtful gifts for my little one, and most importantly, you bring your presence. You ask how I’m doing, and I reciprocate, but our discussions rarely flow smoothly. Just as you’re diving into your stories about work or your weekend adventures, I’m often dashing off to rescue my daughter from yet another precarious situation. I do my best to reassure you that I’m still engaged, but I apologize repeatedly as interruptions abound—whether it’s a potty emergency or a snack request.
I want you to know that my interest in your life—your career, your travels, and the tales of your single life—is very much alive. I genuinely care and wish I could dedicate uninterrupted time to hear all about it. However, the chaos of sleepless nights and toddler antics has me stretched thinner than I ever imagined. While the sleepless nights are becoming a memory and my daughter is nearing the end of her diaper days, my sense of equilibrium is still a work in progress.
I recognize that I often dominate our conversations with tales of my parenting struggles. I apologize for the delayed responses to your emails and for inundating you with pictures of my daughter. Sending those images is my way of reaching out, trying to maintain a connection and share my life with you.
I love you and the person you are, and I want to stay connected. Please, I hope you’ll continue to reach out. I understand that our friendship shouldn’t solely rely on your efforts, but I need your patience and understanding as I navigate this new chapter in my life.
So if I seem distracted, or if I come across as disinterested, please know it’s not a reflection of my feelings for you. I’m just a new mom, grappling with my shifting priorities. But I promise, I’m still listening, and I do care deeply about our friendship, even if it takes me a while to find my footing again.
In the meantime, if you’re curious about pregnancy and home insemination, I recommend visiting CDC’s infertility resource, which offers valuable insights. Additionally, for anyone interested in practical tools, check out Make a Mom’s at-home insemination kit, which is a fantastic resource. You can also explore more about the process at Intracervical Insemination, which covers various aspects of home insemination.
Thank you for your understanding and support as I adjust to this new reality.
Warmly,
Your New Name