Moms, Friends, and Mom Friends

 I was very isolated as a new mother.

My husband worked shift work. Our neighbors kept to themselves. I had few friends and family members in the area; the ones I did have lived at least forty minutes away. None of them had children of their own, so they couldn't share the difficulties of that experience with me.

When I moved back to my hometown and began seeing a counselor again, one of the first suggestions she made was to find some "mom friends." She recommended joining a new moms group. As a painfully shy individual and someone who is not a fan of forced social situations, her recommendation sounded terrible. I ignored her.

The years went by, and my counselor kept pressing. "Have you made any mom friends yet?" When my kids started school, I told her that I talked to other moms at drop-off and pick-up. I had some of their numbers and took the kids to playdates with their kids. "It doesn't sound like they are mom friends, though," my counselor replied.

A couple more years into motherhood and some of my closest friends started having their own children. They didn't live nearby, but they would share the trials and tribulations of parenthood with me. They validated my fears as well as my joys. I explained this to my counselor. "You're still not quite there," she cautioned.

Well, if those examples didn't count, I wasn't sure I'd ever make a friend my counselor would acknowledge as a "mom friend." I was ready to give up.

Luckily, fate had other plans. My daughter is involved in a few extra-curricular activities. One of them takes place at her school, and I help supervise it. A couple years ago, a little girl from another school joined the activity since her own school didn't offer it. She was very quiet but extremely polite. A handful of months after meeting her, I still didn't know her name, but I recognized her when I dropped off my daughter at her sport practice. Since I usually stayed for practice, I decided to sit next to the girl and chat with her for a bit. She was sitting with her mom while her brother played the sport.

Eventually, the girl decided she wanted to play the sport, too. Instead of sitting next to her, then, I sat next to her mom. I began chatting with her, and we learned we had a lot in common. We are close in age and both went through the local Catholic school system (though to rival schools). We are both teachers (though in very different environments). We both love Disney in general and Belle in particular. We exchanged phone numbers and set up playdates for the kids.

After awhile, I started to send her Buzzfeed articles and quizzes. She would laugh and tell me that she was just reading the same exact thing. While our kids played, I noticed that she shared many of my parenting values. I don't remember exactly when it happened, but eventually we started hanging out every now and then without the kids in tow. 

This mom didn't have the advantage of growing up with me or being slowly introduced to my mental illness. I knew eventually I'd have to drop that bomb on her, and I wasn't sure how she would respond. Fortunately, she was extremely understanding and open to sharing my experience. She told me that she wouldn't necessarily know what to say, but she would listen whenever I needed her to. It was the perfect thing to say. During the early days of the lockdown, I told her that I was really struggling. A couple days later, I got a delivery of a stuffed dog that she had sent me. The stuffed dog is the latest addition to my classroom collection of gifts and mementos from the people I love, to remember their affection for me and to try to fight the negative voices when they start talking while I am at work.

I am so happy to report to my counselor that I finally have a mom friend, and I couldn't have asked for a better one!