I recently watched a Korean drama on Netflix called Birthcare Centre, where moms bond, fight, cry, laugh and grapple with their new life, recovering in a luxury post-natal care centre. The centre feels like a dream- beautiful clean suites, babies cared for in a separate nursery, 24 hour breastfeeding support, massages freshly cooked meals and on call help. But even with all this privilege , the mothers deal with somewhat universal mommy issues –the loss of identity, broken nights, frustration at their weight gain, feeling cut-off from colleagues and taking decisions on how (or whether) to balance motherhood and their careers.
In one of the last episodes which is their last night at the center, they have a little party in one room only to realise that they have hardly anything to do or talk about if it doesn’t involve babies. A scientist, a corporate executive, a stay-at-home mother, a travel writer, a teacher — while they are able to discuss in depth nursing positions and solutions for colic — they can’t find a single movie, game or activity that they all like.
In the last 3 years, I have been my child’s most regular accompanier to the park for evening play time. I have befriended moms, babies, toddlers, nannies, pre-teens, 5-year-olds, grandmothers, grandfathers. These friendships are sometimes fleeting, sometimes fulfilling, and often both.
These friendships that come when you see someone on a regular basis have their own camaraderie — you may not know much about them beyond their name, you speak to them mostly about the children, discuss mutual concerns, share helpful notes, smile and say bye. There is often not much pressure or obligation involved. You may not visit each others’ homes or even have each others numbers or social handles. But you may have heard that valuable tip that helped you entertain your toddler at home during a school holiday and be eternally grateful for it. Or you may just share those (rare) moments of peace of watching the children playing (and not fighting) while you can sit in a companiable silence. These friendships may seem fleeting, but there is a shared understanding that gives them a depth and a value which is much needed in the rollercoaster of parenting.
When I knew I was going to have a baby, I was the first in most of my close circles. With pregancy woes and tips to discuss, I formed new friendships with a handful of people I earlier didn’t know so well, but who were all going to have babies. These friendships carried on past childbirth, and while our conversations may still be more about the challenges of toddler behaviour than about our workplace woes or what we are reading, they still form a much needed outlet for the overwhelming emotions and practicalities of parenthood.
In one of the early episodes Birthcare Centre, the new mom Hyun Jin is asked by another mother in the breastfeeding room where she was before coming to the centre. Hyun Jin proceeds to talk about her office and what she did there, and the other mom laughingly replies that she meant to ask which hospital she delivered in. All the mothers address each other as *babyname* ama rather than their first names.
Hyun Jin goes through a difficult journey of acceptance that here, she is not the director of reputed cosmetics company with a great track record, but that she’s a 40-year old first time mother who finds breastfeeding extremely painful. She feels like a lost child struggling to hide the fact that she isn’t able to say ‘I love you’ to her baby as she isn’t able to bond with him yet, and who is harshly judged by the others mothers when she contemplates giving formula to the baby. (In a hilarious exaggerated sequence, her mental dilemma about formula is depicted as a discussion in the centre that escalates into a massive fight between her own parents, her colleagues, and finally to her husband’s friends who end up having a fistfight in a sports club to prove whether the one who breastfed as a child was stronger than the one who was formula fed).
But despite all the difficult starts and the lack of other things in common, these women become close friends at the end of their stay. They help each other navigate issues, and while they think are sure they will lose touch after, they continue to share midnight messages about their night wakings, daycare hunts and other everyday mom drama.
And in so many ways this mirrors real life friendships for many mothers. There are friends with whom you may do a relaxed brunch outing, there are some whom you excitedly share new music with, and there are some with whom you may discuss potty training woes and how to improve eating habits. Sometimes, you may do be able to do all of these with the same friend, but most often not. And learning to enjoy all of these in their own ways slowly begins to expand your world while retaining your sense of self.
Before motherhood, I often thought I won’t let my baby change my habits completely. I will just lay her on the crib and she will sleep on their own like we see in American TV shows, and I can do my own thing after. When we go to restaurants, she will be ‘well behaved’. I could probably even take her along when I meet a friend and have a conversation while she quietly enjoys her food and sits without a gadget. But of course, my evening plans are dictated by baby bedtimes. I do take occasional evenings off, but disrupting the routine doesn’t always feel worth it. And we go to restaurants with a talkative toddler, but well equipped with a whole range of entertainment (books, toys, the occasional gadget), unbreakable cutlery and without any false illusions of expecting her to sit quiet and let the adults do their thing.
It takes time for friendships to adapt to all these new restrictions in your life, and while some last, some may fade away. Some people have more empathy and adjustment levels to your new situation, some may not be able to adapt. And new conversations and dynamics are formed.
It takes time to move past the baby talk with mommy friends, so much so that sometimes you forget to see the person you are talking to as more than the mother of your child’s school/park/after-school buddy.
Recently, I learnt only after several days of hellos and brief chats with a parent at an after-school class that she was an intensive care specialist at a hospital, and not just someone who ferries her son around to school and classes and worries about his social skills, while she also does the latter. This is also why the show, set in a completely different geography and cultural setting, can resonate with with mothers so much — you could have spoken to another mother in bits and pieces for days, and still not know what they studied, what they like reading, what their life outside babies is like. You may see them at midday school pickups and events and it seems like the day revolves around the child, while you may each be heading to frantically meet work deadlines after a break or to complete never ending household chores.
It’s a tough balance, to balance mom-friendships while also not letting that be your only thing. Because, of course you should be able to discuss books and movies and food and a host of other things that are still part of what make you. You should be able to discuss your high school teacher with people who knew you as an awkward teenager whose biggest worries were exams and homework. You should be able to laugh about your steps (and missteps) in early adulthood.
But at the same time, mom-friendships will always occupy an equally valuable space in the hall of fame —for who else can you send that video to of your child’s first annual day performance and not worry about being judged as that friend who can’t stop talking about her baby?
With all the pressures and judgements of new age parenting, it is friends from the past and present, who remind you that you are enough, you are doing well.
And even if your mom friends don’t have all the answers, they sure have all the same questions as you and remind you that we are all in this together!
