While I was pregnant, some wacky cravings showed up. My mom had warned me about the weird food urges, so I waited to crave the classic pickles with ice cream. But staying true to my rebellious nature, I craved pizza with milkshakes.
I waited for other bizarre food wants to appear, but as my pregnancy progressed, a deeper need surfaced. It had nothing to do with food relationships and everything to do with relationship relationships.
I craved mom’ships
All moms have a close-knit group of mom friends for late-night dinners and early morning talks. Well, that’s what I’d heard. I imagined a new group of supportive friends would be magically drawn to my pregnant belly like strangers in the mall were drawn to touching it. I was eager for a team to swap parenting stories, and I was ready to get my mom village on. The trouble was I couldn’t even build one tiny tent.
The search for my best friend mom group started during pregnancy. At visits to the ob-gyn’s office or trips to maternity clothing stores, I was on the lookout for mamas to add to my nonexistent mom village. But even after moments of pleasant (but awkward) small talk, I could never make it to phase two: a mom date. No future plans to check out the safest bassinets together were made, and I never wanted to force a relationship.
I received lots of lovely lifelong parenting advice, but no offers of lifelong friendship
“I just can’t seem to find a village,” I told my BFF from college.
“You mean like that ‘70s singing group?” she asked.
Not well versed in momdom idioms, I had to explain to my friend-without-kids that I wasn’t referring to forming a singing group like The Village People, but that a crucial element of my mom life was missing. I hoped that maybe after I gave birth my village would grow. But I ran into those same issues from pregnancy. I felt like a failure as a mom. Didn’t having a village make mom’ing easier? Wouldn’t I be a better parent having a mama group to back me up?
As my son grew older, with no new mom friends to call when I needed an encouraging ear because of too many sleepless nights or tantrum issues, I turned to the friends I’d known. But calling on my already established BFFs seemed rebellious. These friendships weren’t based on a love of parenting. Motherhood didn’t connect us, and that meant mom’ing didn’t always enter our conversations.
I worried I was missing out on deeper friendships and therefore not living my best mom life
One day, after a conversation with a lifelong pal about why I was using “lol” in my texts until the end of time, I felt different — lighter. I hadn’t thought about parenting once. I remembered what it was like to be me sans kiddo and talking to friends who knew me in the before times helped this happen. I felt supported in a way that only a lifetime friendship could bring to the table.
Huh.
Could it be that I’d been living my best mom life this whole time with the friends I already had?
I guess, finding my perfect BFF mom group was a craving I couldn’t totally satisfy — and I’m OK with it. I’ve met some lovely moms over the years, and we chat and are friendly, but my own mom village has never been established. My lifetime BFFs have been there through all the roles I’ve taken, but the one they know me best in is as their friend — and I’ll forever crave their fabulous friendships.
