One of my best friends in the world gave birth to a baby girl this week. I am full of joy for her and her husband, and their lucky daughter. There is so much happiness in seeing wonderful people bring a new life to a world that needs more wonderful people.
There were six months when we were pregnant together, discussing kicks and cravings and anticipation. I can’t wait for these baby girls to meet earthside, to watch them babble and then crawl and walk and talk and run together.
At first, I had this impulse to try and tell my friend everything I’ve learned in these 3.5 years of motherhood. I wanted to describe every challenge, every milestone, every answer I’ve found and problem we’ve overcome.
I wanted to spare her some of the fear, sadness, isolation, exhaustion, and difficulty that many of us go through during that transition to parenthood and life with a newborn.
I wanted to describe the amazing moments, the triumphs, the exuberant joy, the heart-bursting love.
I wanted to send links to every helpful blog post, book, website, and article that I’ve read.
I wanted to hand it all to her. A big messy stack, papers flying every which way. Here! I’ve done this! Read this and do this and don’t do that and oh, try this too!
But: no. Being a part of the village surrounding a family isn’t about that. It isn’t about shoving information and opinions at new parents, or responding with input and judgement when they’ve only made an observation. In this social media-link to articles-comment on everything world, we (I) fail at this so often.
The best village offers support, gives help willingly, listens carefully, and chimes in when asked. The village is not a chorus of people shouting out unsolicited parenting tips and advice. The best village is a gentle force, a safety net, a comfort, a chorus of “we got your back!” – I’ve at least learned that much in the little time I’ve had on this job.
This will be their experience. My friend doesn’t want or need my advice or input before she even asks. I’ve let her know that I’m here. I’ll reach out to check on her often. I’ll visit with food and gifts and (if she wants) adorable baby girl hand-me-downs, ready to ease the load where I can. I’ll answer every text and phone call, and if/when I’m asked, I’ll share a thing or two I’ve learned along the way.
We’ll walk the parenthood road together.
I couldn’t help but tell her that yes, this shit can be hard. Few of us get through the early weeks without shedding tears of our own (and not just tears of joy). And it’s also so freaking awesome.
One of the best things I’ve found on my own journey has been a group of moms who listen to me, answer my questions without judgement, share their experiences, and let one another know: none of this is perfect. Very little is easy. Behind the Instagram photos and Facebook posts, things can get messy (literally and figuratively). But it is always worth it. And we’re walking this road together: our mothers and grandmothers and great-grandmothers before us, a village that surrounds us on all sides, past and present. Your experience is yours, but it is also ours – mothers and parents and humans.
So, dear friend, feel the love. Know that you have a net to catch you if needed, friends to lift you up however they can, and all of us just bursting with joy and pride, so excited to embrace another little one within our circle.
And baby girl, good work choosing awesome people to be your parents. You have so much love and laughter in your future. In the words of one of our favorite books: We are so glad you’ve come.
It's Loverly 