Tuesday, September 25, 2007

Friends with Children

Let me apologize in advance if anything I say/observe offends any parents who read my blog. But I found this interesting and felt the need to share my feelings on it.

Jessica and I had an interesting conversation on the phone yesterday that I wanted to share. Now that she is pregnant she has made the observation that she has suddenly become "more interesting" to our friends that already have kids. And I have to say that her observation is pretty accurate, and I don't think it only applies to our mutual friends.

Before, when she lived in the land of inferility with me, friends would politely ask how the whole conception thing was going. Especially when we were all trying at the same time to have a kid. Slowly but surely, everyone else started to have kids. Suddenly the questions stopped. I know that part of that was because it was starting to get awkward. But I also think it was because they no longer had anything to talk about with us. Their lives had moved to another dimension. The "having a baby" and not "wanting a baby".

Jessica and I were left behind. It was sad and disappointing. But at least we still had each other. We both became very comfortable with talking about our problems. No one else asked and we stopped telling. When we got together with our friends that had kids, their kids (and pregnancies) were almost all they could talk about. I didn't (and still don't) mind hearing about people's kids. I enjoy a funny story about poop or a new fascination with one's orifices. But it seemed there was nothing else to really discuss anymore with some people. Maybe they didn't even realize it.

When Jessica finally got pregnant, suddenly she was the center of attention. We were all excited that it finally happened for her. But to her, it felt like all of these people who had become absorbed in their own lives as mothers were only now ready to pay attention to her again because she was joining their club. I noticed it, she noticed it.

The great part about Jessica is that she understands how it felt when they all kind of abandoned us. And quite honestly, the pregnancy hasn't become the only thing her life is about. Occassionally she'll complain about being sick and she always mentions her doctor's appointments, but I want to hear about these things. She's my best friend. I don't hold it against her that she got pregnant with a healthy baby and I haven't. What I truely appreciate though is that while she's conscious of the fact that I may be sensitive to hearing about it, she still tells me things. She offers to let me see the video but isn't offended if I say no. She mentions she went to the doctor but waits for me to ask what happened. She doesn't force it one me.

She also commented that having a baby doesn't "consume her life". Which it did for many of our friends. They wanted to talk about being pregnant all the time. She wants to talk about our favorite TV shows. In many ways it's almost like she's not even having a baby. Maybe she does it for me. I'd like to hope it's really because our friendship is strong enough that we have more in common than our shared past of infertility.

Who knows, it could all change come March when that little baby is at home and she's up late at night and trying to figure out the breast feeding thing. But I'm optimistic that it won't. I'm hoping that we still have all of those fun things to talk about like TV, and the books we've read lately, and how annoying our husbands can be.

I guess the greatest observation is that I notice now more than ever who I really have things in common with. It's the people in my life who have kids, but don't feel the need to constantly talk about them, almost like we have nothing else to discuss. I find Karen to be a good example of this. I feel like she's found a good balance in her life for talking about her child and her life without her child.

My final thought for my friends that are mothers: I may not be part of the mommy club, but it doesn't mean we still can't have things in common. And I hope you feel the same way too.

4 comments:

Martha said...

The same concept/distance/hurt goes for couples versus single people.
When I sit down to name my best friends - they are single or have been dating someone less than 3 months. Why? Well, it's who will talk to me. I get sick of calling people who don't call me back or who's only comments include: "some day you'll find someone who makes you happy too" or the ever blatant "so are you dating anyone?" Or people who can't accept the fact that I may want to talk about something other than a boy.

Karen said...

a great post (and analogy from martha). I think there's a lot to be said.

I'll admit i read the blog wondering "am i guilty of this?" so the plug at the end was reassuring. Even if it was just a plug and i'm still somewhat guilty! :)

OK, thoughts - as a mom talking about kids to other moms now comes pretty natural. Reason being is that i have no idea if i'm doing it "right". I'm very eager to hear about what other parents do or don't do so i can avoid pitfalls or examine thier kids and say "yeah, i don't want a kid like that, i'll do the opposite".

Talking to folks like you who don't have kids yes is a hell of a lot of fun. I like that we can be goofy and debate Obama or play cards or whatever - makes me feel NORMAL- like i do have two sides, Karen the mom and Karen the adult.

And, it's nice that you still ask about the kid too- shows what a good friend you are that you care about ALL of the facets of my life.

Mamma Sarah said...

Karen really hit the nail on the head. There are times that I don't want to talk about being a mom and just talk about life outside of kids/husband. This was really true especially when I wasn't working. It really is no mystery why so many parents feel they've lost themselves.

Sarah said...

I can definitely identify with this topic, both in regards to children and points raised by Martha about being single versus friends who are married. It's certainly a test of friendships when people are in different stages and phases of life, to be able to maintain some common ground and remain invested in each others' lives.