One of the perks for me about being a stay-at-home-mom (SAHM) is getting together with mom friends during the day. I have a weekly lunch date with three good friends who are all home with their little ones. We rotate homes, and whoever hosts provides lunch. We catch up on our lives, discuss the parenting philosophies espoused in whatever baby book we happen to be reading, compare notes on the sleeping habits of our babies, and lament mom fail moments.
We met for our first lunch while I was still on leave. As everyone was preparing to head home, I hoped aloud that we could continue this weekly gathering. This was right before Christmas, so even as I shared this wish, I felt it to be an impossible one. These were all busy young moms. No way they would be able to set aside an afternoon every week to eat and chat.
And yet, a couple days later, one friend offered to host the following week–and everyone else showed up. (This friend happens to live outside the city, and we use lunches at her home as an excuse to hit Target beforehand. There’s always something to get at Target!) And now, two months later, our weekly rendezvous is practically a given. I love it.
These weekly gatherings have been particularly helpful for me. Our children are 3.5 months, 4.5 months (Teddy), 9 months, and 2 years old. With the older children, I can see what’s coming and get advice on how to deal with inevitable challenges. But more importantly for me as an adoptive mom, with the younger baby, I can see what’s normal–and calm my paranoid heart. For example, when Teddy was 2 months old, he would shudder in his sleep. This terrified me. I was positive he was reliving the agonizing moment when his birth mom placed him for adoption. (I’d read that even when it happens in infancy, placement is still a traumatic moment.) But when I shared this with my friend whose baby is four weeks younger than Teddy, she assured me that he did that, too. What a relief! I know I’ll yet have to deal with the aftershocks of Teddy’s trauma, but shuddering in his sleep is not one of them.
So I hope these lunches continue. I treasure the camaraderie–and I need the reassurance!