This Mother swears to tell the truth (the whole truth and nothing but the truth about Motherhood.

One morning in my BK days (Before Kyle) when I was stuck in traffic on my commute to work, I watched with envy as a group of moms walked around the park with their babies in strollers. I wondered what those kooky-looking three-wheeled strollers were, but it was just a passing thought. They seemed so happy to be out with their babies, among friends, and not going to work! As the light changed and I drove away, I thought how great it must be to be them. Once I became a mom, however, I realized that it can be a pretty lonely job.

I don’t know about you, but most of my local friends have not yet had children. I was a television producer in my previous life, and my friends from this life were, and remain fabulous, busy, and far away in those places where childless friends live (not in the suburbs, where I do).

When I got pregnant and even early in Kyle’s life, I could not foresee the fact that I would rarely ever see these friends again. They work — I do not. They have fabulous after-hours lives — I do not. They fit into fabulous, fabulous-girl clothing — I do not. Or they are manly and gay and fit into fabulous-gay-guy clothing and dance at hip clubs while drinking Cosmopolitans. I. Do. Not. (In fact, I’m so out of the scene that I am sure there is a much more current Hip Drink than the Cosmopolitan), but that pale pink libation is still my favorite so let it stand in as the Hip Drink of example.

The weeks immediately after Kyle’s birth were very exciting. Everyone wanted to come see him and me (well more him), so I had a steady stream of visitors for quite a while. After the initial fuss wore off, however, my schedule went rather blank. I found myself in what seemed to be my worst nightmare. I was not just any stay-at-home-mom…I was a stay-at-home-mom in The Valley…in the summer. Yes, I mean THE Valley — the one that made “Gag me with a spoon” and “Totally” into those famous sayings in the 80’s. And in the summertime, hot weather makes you not want to go outside. So I was trapped in my house, alone with my baby, for most of every weekday. Totally.

Luckily, I had started attending a “Mommy and Baby Social” class at the hospital where I delivered Kyle. I also regularly attended their breastfeeding support group, because ladies, if you’re breastfeeding for the first time, you definitely need some support, and I’m not talking about a good nursing bra. (Breastfeeding and its many joys are addressed in a another article). I promise. Through these two gatherings, I met a group of women, all whom delivered their first babies within months, or days, of Kyle’s birth.

That first day of the Mommy Social was intimidating, however. It was like the first day at school when you are the new kid and nobody comes over to tell you that they like your dress. I actually brought my mother with me, because it was back when Kyle was only 2 weeks old, and I wasn’t allowed to drive yet. The class always starts with an educational session, then it breaks up into socializing groups.

That day, I noticed that two groups formed: the moms with older babies, who sat in a circle with their strollers behind them, wearing matching Juicy sweat suits, makeup, and cute sneakers. Not a group I could identify with right away, still wearing maternity clothes, my hair in a tattered ponytail, and my clogs (the only thing comfortable on my still-swollen feet). Makeup? Ha!

And on the other side of the room were the moms with very young babies, I’m talking 4 months or less. They held their children and stood in a circle and chatted amiably. I can’t remember what they wore.

I hesitated at the back of the room, thinking I would just leave, and maybe talk to someone next week. But I had a problem with Kyle’s infant carrier, and I noticed one of the moms in the second group had the same infant carrier, and I was dying to ask her about it. My mother nudged me, “Go talk to them!” like I was five years old and checking out the gang of kindergartners playing with the cool toys.

So I finally sidled up to that second group of moms, wedged into their circle and introduced Kyle and myself. I don’t remember what happened next, but fast forward almost 10 months, and I now have a small group of new friends. We have done lots of fulfilling things together in that time, without which I would have sat on my lonely butt in my house with my baby, staying fat and watching Oprah. Or worse — shopping. Here’s a quick sample:

• Zoo trips.
• A thousand fun lunches, in which we take over a restaurant with our strollers and booster seats.
• Park play dates, where we lay in the sun and watch our babies crawl around on blankets and smack each other in the face.
• Watching each other’s children while the moms have important grown up things to do. Sometimes these efforts become Babysitting Parties, and turn into lunch and then dinner.
• Encourage each other’s start-up businesses.
• Gymboree class, My Gym class, and eventually our own “mommy and me” music class taught by a friend.
• Support for each other when bizarre stay-at-home-mom vs. career-mom existential crises arise.
• Showing up to play at the last minute when postpartum depression rears its ugly head.
• Parties for Labor Day, Halloween, or Wednesday.
• Train rides and pumpkin patch visits.

Are you getting sick of this yet? Because I haven’t. I have learned so much about being a mother by being around other mothers who are in the same boat. We are a very diverse group of women I never would have met otherwise. Who knows if we would even be friends without the common thread of first-time, at-home mommyness? But they have become my confidants, my comediennes, my parenting-advice columnists, my shoulders to cry on, my babysitters, and in general the saviors who rescued me from myself. My self, who would have gone insane all alone with nobody but a baby for conversation.

My mommy friends and I have formed our own unofficial “Mommy Group.” We don’t have a non-profit organization or a club or even a place to meet once a week. But there are groups like this in every community that you can find on the internet or by checking with your doctor’s office, pediatrician, or hospital. It’s worth a shot to overcome your shyness and start talking to other new mothers, especially if you don’t already have friends with babies in your area. In my case, I’m so glad my mother forced me to talk to the cool girls when I was the new kid in class.

– Kim Tracy Prince