"What a crazy night!" "I hardly slept at all." "I don't even remember what time I went to bed."
The same words can have completely different meanings at different stages of life. In the past, my friends and I would worry about where everyone was at 2 a.m.; now, what we worry about is whether each person’s baby will poop that day.
I met Laura-Kate ( Lauks ), Kirsten ( Kirst ) and myself at a girls' boarding school in South Africa 25 years ago, and later we all had a great time together in college and during our early adulthood. For many years, our biggest worries were simply how to relieve hangovers with painkillers and junk food, who was dating whom, where to go on weekends, and whether someone would take particularly ugly photos of us.
Later on, all three of us had children within three weeks of each other. This not only deepened our bond once again but also allowed us to grow together in a novel way that I had never imagined before.
The real adult life has begun.
Taking things a bit further back in time, Lauks told us that she was once again pregnant with an unexpected surprise. This stands in sharp contrast to my own childbirth experiences, which were a rollercoaster ride filled with disappointment, including one failed embryo transfer. Just as I was preparing for a second transfer, she shared this news with us through the group chat.
Lauks lives in a small town about an hour's drive from me, which happens to be on my way to see my obstetrician. Not long after she shared the good news, I took the opportunity on my return trip to visit her and congratulate her. By that time, I was also 6 weeks pregnant myself. I remember sitting in a café, trying hard to say those words: “I’m pregnant.” And then came a bout of ugly crying.
Of course, my next call is to Kirst who is in the United States. To my surprise, she also had some news she wanted to tell me. It turns out that all three of us are pregnant at the same time.
Our WhatsApp group chat has suddenly taken on a different vibe.
After spending months comparing and complaining about pregnancy symptoms with each other, one baby came along, then another, and then yet another.
The three of us welcomed motherhood in different ways, but each of us gave birth to a baby girl within three weeks, in three different cities across two continents. Our friendship has thus acquired a whole new dimension.
We once connected through topics like secret crushes, kisses, and hangovers. Now, we talk about things like breast milk, blowing one's nose, and various strange rashes in detail. Although these topics aren’t so exciting, for some reason, they seem to bring us even closer together.
Our WhatsApp group chat has turned into a 24-hour operation motherhood help hotline. “Does this seem normal?” At 3 a.m., someone replied, “Yes, unfortunately, it is normal.” We were so tired that we would send emoji when we couldn’t form complete sentences. We celebrated our first smile, our first attempt to turn over in bed. We talked about menstruation, acne, sex, husbands, and everything else—obviously, after becoming close friends for 25 years, these topics became something we could discuss openly.
Later on, even more surprises popped up in the group chat.
Earlier this year, Kirsten told us that her second child was on the way. This time, it was my turn to be so excited that I couldn’t sit still, and I couldn’t wait to tell them that I conceived naturally. In August, Kirst gave birth to a baby boy; in September, my daughter was also born.
Although Kirst moved to the United States three years ago, and we have never been in the same room since, our relationship remains as close as before, even closer. My two sisters are my cheerleaders, midwives, online health advisors, and they are also a crucial reason why I, as a mother, can remain “sufficiently sober.” They have shown me the power of long-term friendship and the way that women support each other.
In another 25 years, we will be over 60 years old.
I can't help but imagine what our friendship will be like in 25 years. By then, we will be in our 60s, and our children (hopefully) will also be making their way in the outside world on their own.
As white hair and wrinkles come with age, our priorities likely change as well. After going through the first 25 years, I’ve realized that the best friendships don’t remain static; they grow together with us. So I know that my closest girlfriends will still be by my side in the future. We’ll have new things to complain about, new moments to cry over, and new reasons to laugh heartily together.
