It happened slowly but surely. The stream of people who came to visit me after my baby, Charlie, was born eventually dried up. First my partner, Andrew, had to go back to work. Then the family and friends who came bearing food and gifts stopped dropping by, until one day it was just me and the baby. A week went by. Then a month. And as much as I loved being with my newborn, I craved the company of adult conversation to break up the long days.
It’s hard for new mums. I went from spending my days talking to colleagues and customers, to being with one tiny human being where I had to guess what he needed. I found myself lonely. I longed for the company of others throughout the day — friends who were free to meet up for lunch or a coffee.
It’s a daunting task making new friends in your late 30s. With encouragement from my partner, I set out to meet other new mums. At first I tried an app called Peanut. It works like Tinder, but instead of finding dates, it’s built for mums wanting to connect with other local mums. Through Peanut I met two new mums who also wanted to find a mother’s group. When I eventually joined a group, I thought it would be hard to find things in common, but we were all first-time mums in our 30s and 40s.
We started a WhatsApp chat, which became a lifeline for the thousands of questions first-time mums have. On it, we sustained have a steady flow of conversation and talked to each other daily. One member, Alanna, is a pharmacist and a fountain of knowledge for all dosage-related questions.
The other mums comforted me when I had a massive bout of guilt after Charlie fell off the bed in my care
Through the chat, we shared our shock of being able to keep a human alive when we’d all killed our knock-off Tamagotchis back in the day. It’s nice to have a group of friends who never get bored no matter how many photos and videos you send of your child. More importantly, they’re a constant and non-judgemental source of emotional support. The other mums comforted me when I had a massive bout of guilt after Charlie fell off the bed in my care. We’ve supported one another during the hard separation period when we’ve had to go back to work and entrusted our kids with educators at daycare.
Our mother’s group has had coffee and lunch catch-ups, which soon became the highlights of my week. When spring came, we had picnics in the park. We’ve shared our kids saying their first words and taking their first steps together. We’ve been to each of our kids’ first birthdays and, because they were all born within three months of each other, going to ‘first birthdays’ filled my entire social calendar for a time.
These days, we still share everything from recipes to our favourite charcoal chicken places to stories of our parenting mishaps (such as the time I found Charlie eating our dog’s food) without fear of judgement. We have a similar sense of humour. One mum, Leah, can make us belly-laugh with a perfectly placed emoji, meme or gif. Another mum, Cam, is full of positivity and her messages of encouragement always make us feel loved and uplifted.
A mother's group spring picnic. Source: Supplied
Every few months, we plan a ‘mums gone wild’ night and dress up in clothes that don’t have Weetbix cemented into them
Last year, in celebration of making it through our first year of motherhood, we left our babies with our partners or grandparents, and had dinner out — our very own ‘workplace’ party. I think it was important to acknowledge and celebrate the work we did as mums in that year. Now, we try to plan something special every few months — a ‘mums gone wild’ night where we get to dress up in clothes that don’t have Weetbix cemented into them and enjoy a night of good food and drinks.
At Alanna’s son’s first birthday, her husband, Lee, thanked everyone in our mother’s group for being there for Alanna in her first year of parenting. He said that our friendship and support has made the first year easier for her, and they are both so grateful to have us in their lives. I took a look around the room. All of us were tearing up. Perhaps motherhood has made us sentimental. I, for one, know that I cry at almost the drop of a hat now. But something about Lee’s speech truly touched us all. Because motherhood would have been very lonely without the friendship of the seven other mums in my group. I hope that all new mums find the kind of lifelong friendship that I’ve found in mine.
