Years before I had my first child, I always noticed that mothers seemed to be able to connect with each other in a way that most other people couldn’t. No matter their age, race, or socioeconomic class, there was an instant connection when two mothers started talking about their children. They would ask questions and compare notes. They would laugh and sometimes cry. At the end of the conversation each would walk away seeming to feel like they were carrying a piece of the other person with them. Their conversation really seemed to matter.
When I became pregnant I hoped that I would become part of this special sisterhood of mothers. Lucky for me, I was welcomed with open arms.
From the moment I started showing, every woman that I came in contact with wanted to talk about me and my journey. I was a little taken aback at first. Everyone’s willingness to tell me everything and then some, but after baby number two, I really began to appreciate the wisdom, empathy, and “been-there-done-that” advice that so many women were willing to openly offer me. Now, as a mom of two, I find myself welcoming others into the sisterhood of motherhood as the “honest-to-a fault” friend who refuses to sugarcoat the overwhelming emotions, the fear of the unknown, and the feeling of love that children bring to my world.
I count on all the women in the sisterhood to share in my joys, calm my nerves, and remind me that this too shall pass. This group of women have brought other people in to their lives through all kinds of spectacular circumstances. They have made a commitment and chosen to nurture them for the rest of their lives. These are the women who amaze me. Each of them inspire me. They are part of a special group that I call the sisterhood of motherhood.
