When you're the first of your friends to have a baby.....

My longtime best friend recently became pregnant with her first baby. Because we've been living on different continents for the last eight years, our relationship is fueled only with text messages and email. I share what shenanigans my boys are up to, and she's telling me about each new stage of pregnancy. In one message, she mentioned how her local friendships have shifted. She overheard her work friends planning a big girls weekend, to which she was never invited. I remember that feeling vividly. It's just the beginning of the tectonic shift in all your pre-baby friendships.


Here's how it typically* goes, when you're the first one to have a baby...

Your friends will be so happy for you but they won't get it. They might be a little (or a lot) excited to throw you a baby shower. They may be empathetic as they hear about this horrible morning sickness that you're dealing with. And they may be overjoyed to hold that little bun right out of the oven. But they absolutely will not understand the magnitude of change your body and mind are going through for the next nine months to eternity. If you're lucky, they will hang tight and be present. 


Some, if not most of your childless friends will bail. Having a baby is hard, whether you stay home or go back to work, you are responsible for this little human. You'll have to give up a lot of your social life. You will feel so lonely. You will feel like a stranger in a strange land. To be courteous, your friends will just stop inviting you to things so you don't always have to tell them “No, I can't.” And because kids are unpredictable, get-togethers will dwindle until finally you subconsciously change your relationship status from friends to acquaintances. But that's okay. The good ones will stay.


You'll make new friends. You aren't alone in this freak show called motherhood. Start looking around (the park, the library, online mom support groups) You aren't the only doe-eyed new mom suffering with an identity crisis and a hefty case of alienation. You will meet others who are in the same boat. You can share struggles and offer support to each other. They get it when you cancel plans because of a pukey kid or a sleepless night. They know the value of a moms' night out. They get all of it.

You might have to let go of the past. I'm only admitting it now (4 years later) that I had some serious grudges against my childless friends who bailed on me. It sucked. It sucked bad. I was lonely. I didn't have anyone to offer me advice. I was jealous that they had freedom to do whatever they wanted, while I became chained to this little creature that came out of my uterus. I was up at 2 am nursing a newborn while they were still out clubbing. They didn't get that I was lonely, what they got was that I was busy and responsible for a baby.


You will be ecstatic for your pre-baby friends when they finally have a baby. It's not like you feel they have finally received their karmic consequence for the lack of presence in your time of crisis. You will be genuinely happy that they get to experience this adventure. You will offer encouragement, advice, and whatever else they need, because you know what it's like on the other side. This will transform their life in a way that only parenthood can.

You will see how far you've come. Everyone fawns over these cute babies and how they grow and learn, but not a lot of notice is given to the mom's development. Motherhood is hard as hell, and surviving day one is a huge accomplishment. A challenge comes, then you defeat it. This is basically real life game of whack-a-mole. But I'm telling you, it's awesome. I'm not gonna regurgitate that idealistic sentiment that “you should cherish every moment” because we all know that's B.S. But, you should think forward. Make mama friends, love your babies, enjoy the good parts and survive the bad. Seriously, the bad parts almost always make for a funny story later.

Gotta go wipe a butt. Peace Out!

*As in, many of my new mom friends and I had these experiences with our childless peers.