My friend Sarah was the first among my close circle to welcome a child into her life. After she had her adorable baby boy in June 2014, I made sure to visit her at the hospital, brought her a meal, and occasionally stopped by after work to cuddle her little one and catch up. Our conversations often revolved around my demanding job and the exhaustion that accompanied it, while she listened with a kind smile. Occasionally, she would allude to the challenges of new motherhood, like the endless nights spent nursing her newborn, eyes bleary from fatigue.
I felt a pang of guilt because she’s my friend, and I genuinely care for her, but I couldn’t relate to her experience at all. As our visits came to an end, I would buckle my own seatbelt in my car and head home, free to go wherever I pleased because I was childless and had the luxury of spontaneity. Once, she mentioned her new “mom friends” from a hospital support group. The way she said it—“Mom-Friend”—made me feel a flicker of jealousy. What was so special about them? What did they possess that I lacked?
Well, babies. They had babies. When I asked her how these women had become her new tribe so quickly, she struggled to explain. She assured me it wasn’t a slight against her childless friends and simply said, “Ain’t nothin’ like a Mom-Friend.”
Fast forward to July 2015, when my own darling daughter made her entrance into the world after a whirlwind of an epidural-free labor. The first week at home felt like a euphoric blur of sleepless nights and tears. I cried over everything from breastfeeding struggles to feeling like Jabba the Hutt, and even over dropping my keys. My inaugural solo car ride with my daughter led us to the same hospital group Natalie had attended a year earlier. She screamed the entire way there, and I found myself in tears, too.
Arriving 20 minutes late, I plopped down on the carpeted floor of the classroom, praying my daughter wouldn’t get hungry so I wouldn’t have to nurse in public. Naturally, she did, and there I was, fumbling with my nursing cover and a nipple shield, feeling flustered and vulnerable. I scanned the room for judgmental glances, but they never came. Instead, I spotted another mom across the room doing the same, and in that moment, I realized—I had found my people. I was in a safe space.
In the weeks and months that followed, the other moms from that class became my lifeline. We met for coffee before our weekly gatherings, discussing everything from our babies’ growth to our own struggles with body image and sleep deprivation. We shared stories about the physical toll of childbirth, the fear of intimacy post-delivery, and the reality that our lives—and bodies—would never be the same. Late-night texts and calls became the norm as we navigated this new life together.
As our children grew, many of my Mom-Friends returned to work, leading to less frequent meetups. However, each new stage brought us back to each other, texting at midnight for reassurance. We planned first birthday parties, talked about future family plans, and recently gathered without our kids. It dawned on me that these “Mom-Friends” had evolved into true friends.
Together, we weathered those tender early days of motherhood, clad in black leggings that camouflaged our post-baby figures and matched the dark circles under our eyes. We held our babies, clutched our coffees, some of us leaking milk while others grieved the loss of that ability. Now, as we settle into this new normal—sweet, challenging, and sometimes brutal—I hold deep gratitude for those women who supported me through the highs and lows of early motherhood. There truly is nothing comparable to a Mom-Friend.
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In summary, the bond formed with other mothers during the early stages of parenting can be pivotal. These relationships offer support, understanding, and a shared experience that enriches the journey of motherhood.