“What a wonderful night!” “I barely slept.” “I don’t even know when I went to bed.”
The same sentence may have completely different meanings at different stages of life. My friends and I used to worry about where everyone was at 2 a.m., now, we worry about whether everyone’s baby pooped that day.
Lauks, Kirst and I met at an all-girls boarding school in South Africa 25 years ago and spent college and early adulthood together. Over the years, our biggest questions were nursing headaches with painkillers and junk food, who was dating whom, where we were going on the weekend, and if someone had taken a particularly unflattering photo.
Then the three of us had babies within three weeks of each other, which reaffirmed our connection and allowed us to grow together in new and exciting ways that I had never imagined.
The author (centre) says life took her and her friends in different directions, but motherhood helped them connect in a new way. Courtesy of Shay Cashin.
True adulthood happens
Laux had an unexpected pregnancy. As a semi-single mother while her husband worked abroad for three months, she bravely faced the challenges. During the same period, Kirst and her American husband settled in the United States and I was undergoing IVF treatment. We all have our own challenges.
Fast forward a bit, and Laux tells us she’s expecting another unplanned surprise. This was in stark contrast to my own fertility journey, which was a rollercoaster of disappointments, including a failed embryo transfer. When I was about to make my second transfer, she broke the news to us via group text message.
Laux lives in a small town about an hour’s drive from me. It was right on the way to my fertility doctor. On one drive home, shortly after sharing her good news, I stopped to meet Laux and congratulate her. I was also six weeks pregnant at the time. I remember sitting in a coffee shop trying to say the words: “I’m pregnant.” Cue the ugly crying.
Of course, my next call was to Coster in America. Little did I know that she also had some news that she was dying to tell me. All three of us got pregnant at the same time.
The tone of our WhatsApp group immediately changed
After months of comparing and complaining about our pregnancy symptoms, one baby was born, then another, and then another.
Each of us became mothers in different ways, but each of us welcomed a baby girl into the world across three different cities (and two continents) in three weeks, and our friendships took on a whole new vocabulary.
We’ve bonded over crushes, kisses and hangovers. Now, we discuss the intricacies of latching, sniffling, and every weird rash. The conversations may have been less exciting, but somehow they were more intimate.
Our WhatsApp group has become a kind of 24-hour helpline for mothers. “Does this seem normal?” came the reply at 3 a.m.: “Yeah, unfortunately.” We send emoticons when we’re too tired to form a sentence. We celebrated the first smile and the first roll. We talk about periods, acne, sex, husbands, and everything else that apparently becomes acceptable topics once you’ve been friends for 25 years.
Then the group chat exploded, and there were more surprises
Earlier this year, Kirsten told Us that her second child was on the way. This time, it was my inner churning desire to tell them that I was pregnant naturally. In August, Buster gave birth to a baby boy, and in September my baby girl was born.
Even though we hadn’t been in the same room since Coster moved to the United States three years ago, we were still as close as ever, if not closer. My girls are my cheerleaders, doulas, online health advisors, and a huge reason why I stay sane (enough) as a mother. They showed me the power of long-term friendships and the way women can support each other.
The author says distance doesn’t prevent her from staying in touch with her friends and looks forward to seeing how their relationships continue to grow over time. Courtesy of Shay Cashin.
In another 25 years, we will be over 60 years old
I can’t help but imagine how our friendship will change in another 25 years. We will be in our 60s and the kids will (hopefully) be able to fend for themselves in the outside world.
As gray hair and wrinkles appear, our priorities may change again. After those first 25 years, I learned that the best friendships don’t stay the same, they grow with you. So I know my good friends will still be there for me, just with new things to sympathize with, cry to, and laugh to death with.