This Woman Had a Baby, and Then She Worried About Losing Her Childfree Friend
Dear friend from my before-children life,
I know it’s hard to believe it, but it’s still me.
I’m here, thinking about you. About us. About how we used to meet out in the city. Or jump on a call at the weirdest hours.
And I know I had a missed call from you earlier today. Today? Or maybe it was yesterday?
I wanted to text you and tell you that the baby was sleeping, and I couldn’t call. But then, the baby woke up. And I can’t even remember where I’ve put my phone.
These aren’t the only things I can’t remember.
But maybe it’s not fair to get you into all the boring details of my newly exhausting and exciting life of breastfeeding, changing diapers, and checking up on my baby just to make sure he’s still breathing.
Or is it fair?
If friendships aren’t about that, what are they about?
If I can’t tell you that I miss us, but I’m trying to find myself, what can I tell you?
If you can’t find the understanding that my whole world has changed in ways I couldn’t anticipate and that I truly hope you won’t give up on me until I find my balance, what can you understand?
If I can’t hope for you to still be there when the smoke is going down, what can I hope for?
I forget things. I’m canceling things. I’m crying about all sorts of crazy things. I want to talk about everything, and then I don’t feel like talking about anything.
I Google a lot. I make doctor appointments. I’m figuring out the latch. The poop color and consistency. The babbling. The crying types.
And oh, how I hate my phone that keeps nagging me that it has a full memory.
When I’ll find my phone and manage to text you, I will most likely tell you to:
Please understand me.
Please don’t give up on me.
Please keep calling me.
Please keep checking up on me.