To My Best Mom Friend, Thanks For Being My Person

 

Being a stay-at-home mom can be a pretty lonely job. It’s a job we are incredibly lucky to have—but still, a lonely one. Until you meet your crew. Your tribe. The women who just get it. The women who understand what it’s like to be home with a baby all day, every day.

These women change everything. They laugh with you, cry with you, and are there for everything in between. They are key players in the village that is raising your children.

And so, I thank you, dear mommy friends. You are selfless, empathetic, and loving. You’ve saved me more times than I can count.

When you hear frustration or defeat in my voice, you ask me how things are going. We laugh, then cry together over tantrums and diaper blowouts in the grocery store because sometimes, being a stay-at-home mom is really hard.

When I found out I was pregnant, you were the first person I confided in.

You brought me flowers and kept my secret because I was only a few weeks along. When the doctor couldn’t find our baby’s heartbeat and told us the pregnancy wasn’t viable, you encouraged me to grieve and promised time would help put me back together. You didn’t tell me it wasn’t meant to be, or remind me how lucky I was to already have a child.

While my husband did his best to be supportive, you were the one who really got me through it. When my body didn’t respond to the miscarriage, and the morning sickness and exhaustion continued for weeks, you were there to help. You nodded your head and listened when I tried to explain the fog I was stuck in. You promised over and over again the sadness would lift. And you were right.

You checked in again and again to see how I was doing, because you know emotional scars take longer to heal than physical ones.

When Penny and I were both sick this winter, you brought us breakfast and coffee to get through the sleepless nights. You’ve been there. You know what it’s like, and how draining it can be. You genuinely want to help when I’m down.

Instead of judging me for wearing three-day-old leggings with a banana stain on them, you tell me your leggings haven’t been washed in a week, and we clink our coffee cups together in solidarity.

You pushed me to write professionally, because you know it makes me happy and helps me maintain an identity other than “mommy”.

Watching you with your kids helps me to be a better parent, and also a better wife. We celebrate each other’s anniversaries and talk through the arguments we have with our husbands. We share tricks to get our babies to eat, and gush over how much we love our kids. You are just as consumed with diapers and spit up and breastfeeding and formula and concerns about percentiles and weight gain as I am.

We’ve shared decisions both big and small, from choosing Halloween costumes to deciding where our kids will go to preschool. Together we’ve endured ear infections, colds, failed vision and hearing tests, new babies, infant helmets, stomach flu, taking pets home, saying goodbye to loved ones, and so much more.

You’ve seen me at my best and at my worst. We’ve only known each other for a relatively short period of time, but you understand me better than some of my lifelong friends. 

I realize as our kids get older they might go their own separate ways, and our friendship might be harder to maintain. I will always appreciate you for your sisterhood. Whether our bond is temporary or permanent, it’s pretty perfect for the moment.