They say it’s impossible to understand parenthood without experience, and it’s true. After becoming a mom myself, I cringe at the thought of my behavior toward one friend in particular as she entered motherhood. As the first in our group to have a baby, she was up the river without a paddle while the rest of us waved from the safety of our childless shore. Put simply, friends without kids can be downright idiotic and insensitive in the beginning. Although I didn’t understand this at the time, there’s nothing like a newborn to change your perspective and motivate you to write an apology five years too late. So, dear friend, as the pioneer who paved the way for the rest of us first-time mothers, this is for you. 

  • I’m sorry about my first visit. After 22 hours of labor and an emergency C-section, I’m sorry I arrived at your home with fluffy stuffed bear and a bottle of wine. I have no defense for my actions except that I may have been drunk myself. I didn’t realize that alcohol and toys weren’t things a new mom can consume after birthing a live human. Please accept this retroactive lasagna.
  • I’m sorry I was awkward during our conversation. You did your best to feign interest about my stupid work story while breastfeeding and prying open a bottle of Vicodin with your teeth. And I was the awkward one…
  • I’m sorry I made that face when your baby spit up on me. If it’s any consolation, I now have approximately 137 shirts that are permanently stained with vomit, poop, drool and mashed banana.
  • I’m sorry I asked if labor hurt as bad as they say. I was genuinely curious and genuinely stupid. Thanks for not smacking me.
  • I’m sorry I didn’t gush over your precious baby. You created a beautiful new life and I was in awe of you. I should have said those exact words.
  • I’m sorry I didn’t offer to clean every surface of your apartment. Twice.
  • I’m sorry I said you were lucky.  You were exhausted. You were bleeding and sore. You were wondering how the hell you were going to raise this helpless little person. “You’re so lucky” was meant as a compliment, but at that moment, it was the last thing you needed to hear.
  • I’m sorry I didn’t get it. I wanted to be there for you, but I didn’t know how just yet. Dear friend, I get it now. For all my transgressions, please accept my apology. Thanks for understanding my ignorance and being an example of grace under pressure. I hope I am half the mother you are. Enjoy the lasagna.