I had dreams of socializing with another family -- me drinking cocktails with the wife while our spouses mingled and kids played together happily.Olga Pankova / Getty Images
No one warned me that making friends in motherhood would be complicated. But once my baby was in my arms, days were consumed with feedings and playgroup, laundry and household tidying. When I met other moms at "Mommy and me" classes, opportunities to talk were stifled by diaper changes and having to chase my toddler from one end of the room to the other.
The friends I'd confided in over the years -- those who were bridesmaids in my wedding -- were now scattered around the country. One of my closest friends was across the Atlantic in a different time zone. I was no longer living in an apartment with roommates. The years my husband and I were a young, childless couple with evenings devoted to socialization were over, too. And I was no longer in a work environment where I was conversing with adults daily. Overnight I entered motherhood, and life as I knew it changed because I didn't have the close female camaraderie I grew to depend on.
When my older son was little, I grew close to another mom who had a son the same age. We'd spend multiple days together each week at each other's houses, attending story time at the library, and meeting at the park. My toddler learned to share and communicate alongside her son, and I had a friend who understood the overwhelming sleep deprivation and loss of personal space that comes with motherhood. Our friendship was everything we needed during those early years because we went through every milestone together. But over time, our bond fizzled.
As my children grew, so did my longing for close friendship. Talking about the weather with the mom pushing her child on the swing next to mine wasn't enough. I'd lean on a group chat with my two best friends from childhood and it was comforting, but it wasn't enough because I couldn't see them face to face or call them at 7 P.M. and say, "Please come over." It wasn't until I was a mother that this distance between us settled and felt permanent.
But finding new friends locally wasn't easy. I wanted to celebrate my decision to stay home while also commiserating over the loss of my professionalism with someone experiencing the same dilemma. I needed other moms who related to my desire to dress up in an Alice and Olivia top and MOTHER jeans because I spent the rest of my time in leggings, my hair a mess, and looking as though I hadn't slept in months.
As my older son approached his teen years, I needed confirmation from friends that I wasn't doing it all wrong -- that other moms were also searching for the balance of ensuring your kid doesn't miss the bus or connect with strangers online while at the same time giving them the independence they need to thrive. Talking honestly about life with friends who were at the same parenting stage was fundamental, but I didn't always feel as though I could open up fully.
Before kids, I bonded with friends easily. I had no problem spilling personal details and connecting with those I trusted. But when life centered around my children, so did my time and what little space was left to socialize. I discovered that making friends was no longer simple -- it now required effort and energy I didn't always have.
For years, my husband had a close friend he'd grab a beer with on a weekday night. But when he and his family came over for dinner, his wife and I didn't have a lot in common, so conversation was strained. Often, when I made a new friend, my husband didn't hit it off with her spouse, or vice versa. Or we'd become close with a couple, but our kids' interests didn't mesh, so hanging as families frequently wasn't ideal. There always seemed to be a puzzle piece out of place, and for years I couldn't figure out what was missing.