Ok. So let me just start by saying I love that I am (finally!) a mom. I love my kid so much that I could stare at her all day, every day (and sort of do). When I leave her, which isn’t often, I feel like a part of me is missing. It’s an almost physical ache. It’s crazy to me.
So that said, please know that I’m not complaining. I’m not ungrateful. I, more than most, know how lucky I am to have a child. But none of that changes the fact that motherhood is fucking lonely. And surprisingly boring, a lot of the time – at least in the beginning. I talk about the baby, think about the baby, and spend every waking minute with the baby. Marsha Marsha Marsha. Baby Baby Baby.
When my husband comes home from work, I find myself desperately clinging to conversation with him like he’s a piece of debris in the water I’m drowning in. I’m painfully aware that I don’t have anything interesting to talk about…but that doesn’t stop me, because when you spend your whole day talking to a tiny person that can’t communicate with you in your language, you can start to feel really alone.
The loneliness in motherhood sets in quite early, I found. When I was breastfeeding, I felt an enormous pressure that’s tied to being everything my daughter needed. Sure, others could hold her and snuggle her, and even change her diapers….but I was the only one who could feed her (aka keep her alive). This was especially true for me, because we wanted to limit bottles in an attempt to establish breastfeeding and avoid the dreaded nipple confusion. (which wasn’t really a thing for us, I found out later) Unfortunately, breastfeeding didn’t last long for me due to supply issues, but I definitely caught a glimpse of just how isolating that sole responsibility might feel for those who exclusively breastfeed (EBF) for an extended period of time.
Also, when the new-ness of the baby wears off for everyone else, life moves on for them…and for you. People drift away, and you’re mostly left alone to parent your child. This can be a blessing of course – but in many ways it can also feel a little overwhelming. I remember thinking something along the lines of: “Wait. I’m supposed to actually do this now? Don’t they know I don’t know what I’m doing? Who’s idea was this?”
Getting out and socializing can help ease that “alone in the world” feeling – though I honestly don’t know how others do this early on. Those moms are my superheroes. I’m just now starting to venture out into social groups, meet other moms, etc. and my baby girl is almost 3 months old. Truth be told, I didn’t even feel like leaving the house for at least a month after having the baby. Granted, I was recovering from surgery, and it was the middle of January in Canada (that means COLD like you’ve probably never known if you don’t live here)…but still. Not leaving the house can make you feel like your world is tiny. And it is.
To combat the isolation that seems to come with motherhood, I’ve actually made a huge conscious effort to make “Mom friends”.
I used to scoff at this idea. Really. The thought of making friends solely based on one seemingly flimsy common bond like having kids the same age made me think that those relationships couldn’t possibly be genuine – they must just serve some superficial purpose. In my head, I pictured “mom friends” as a bunch of catty, judgy, sanctimonious women who got together solely to take perfectly staged facebook mom selfies (#melfies?) with. Of course, they would also all wear actual clothes (not yoga pants covered in dog hair, and a dirty tank top for three days like me), have perfect hair, and bake organic sugar-free, gluten-free, dairy-free, egg-free fucking snacks together, while drinking their ridiculously high maintenance tall, skinny, triple caff, no foam, soy milk heated to exactly 120 degree, lattes. (I have an active, and very specific imagination) I didn’t need that. I had my own “real” friends. Normal friends.
Turns out, I was totally and completely wrong.
You see, as your world becomes more baby-centric, the friends you had that aren’t at the same place in life as you are now sort of fade from view a bit. I’m not sure if they leave you behind, or if you leave them…but it definitely happens. It seems inevitable. And it kind of sucks. Of course if you’re aware of this, and you care to save those friendships, you can work at maintaining them (I totally suggest putting in the effort there – especially when you have great friends like I do). But it can be hard. And it can take time and energy (especially energy!) that you feel like you don’t really have.
Once I got over myself and realized that I actually did need mom friends (the horror!), I had to really push myself outside of my safe little bubble to actually seek out these connections. To find people who are at this exact stage of life along with me. People that get it. People that are up at 3am too. People that aren’t assholes. That last one was key.
Most of my mom friends are online, which is the beauty of living in the age we do…but I’m happy to say that I’ve made some actual “real life” mom friends too. And I even like them. Yay me. 😉
One of them is my neighbour, who had a little girl a week after me. We joked through our pregnancies about who would win the New Year’s baby prizes (neither of us did), compared aches and pains, and kept an eye on each other’s houses in the middle of the night to see if one of us had gone to the hospital. Now we sympathize with each other about family drama, recount all the unwanted advice we’ve been given so far, share parenting tips, and even clothing. This is a friend I can see having a beer with, and maybe even some family barbecues down the line.
Another is a woman I first met through our (similar) jobs in social services, and then connected again because – you guessed it! – she is a mom with a kid the same age. She has a little boy, and we make cliche jokes that our children will end up dating one day. Beyond that though, she has a sarcastic, dark sense of humour which I appreciate…and thankfully, doesn’t order weird drinks from Starbucks. She likes the outdoors, and seems fearless to try new things with her son which is inspiring. She taught me how to secure my carseat without the base, and encouraged me to take my daughter swimming for the first time. This is a friend who will challenge and push me. I need that.
I guess what I was hoping to convey with this post is not just that motherhood can feel lonely (which I think is fairly obvious)…but more importantly that if you’re feeling this way too, you can do something about it. You don’t have to go it alone. And if you’re like I was, and think having mom friends is totally lame, swallow your pride and make an effort to pick ones that don’t suck. They’re out there, trust me. I found two. 🙂
GLA:D 