No One Told Me Being A Mom Makes You Invisible . . .

Ok, I'm just going to dive right into this one . . .

You get pregnant or decide to adopt. Whatever method you choose, you decide to become a parent (ok, sometimes you decide and sometimes fate decides for you. I'm a lesbian--I had to decide). All your wonderful friends rally around you, so ecstatic . . . feeling your belly, talking about the pitter-patter of little feet with you, planning baby showers, just so excited for you. You think, "Wow, I am really lucky. My friends rock my world." You might even invite a friend to be in the room when you give birth, or a whole group of friends to be in the room with you when you and your partner find out if your bundle of joy is a boy or a girl. Your friends tell you things like, "You're just going to have kick us out of your house when the baby's born; we're so excited . . . we're going to be there all the time." You feel so surrounded, so supported.

Then your beautiful, awe-inspiring baby arrives. You are beyond happy, and your friends are still there, visiting you in the hospital and after you get home. Your friends are still around, despite any fears you may have had while waiting for your baby to arrive.

Time marches on, and pretty soon you realize your friends aren't coming around as much . . . then not at all, it seems. You're not really bothered by it at first; your baby consumes you and that's just fine. But then your baby gets a little older, say a year or so, and then all of a sudden you're reading on Facebook how everyone went out to the bar last night and had so much fun. And it hits you: no one invites you anywhere anymore.

I love my son more than my own life; anyone who knows me knows that. But most days, I feel totally unattractive, probably because I only get a shower every couple days. I eat standing up while on the way to do something else baby-related, barely get to use the bathroom by myself and go to the grocery store for social interaction. And I need a night out every once in a great while. But when no one invites you, what to you do?

I feel like these people that used to always be there just operate on assumptions now. The assumption that I can't do anything because I have a baby or that I don't want to do anything. Not to mention hiding behind excuses like, "You don't have to be invited!"

I feel that getting out every once in a while makes me a healthier, happier person, which in turn makes me a better mother to my son (and wife to Amy!). So now I feel like I have a new task to tackle: find new, like-minded friends who understand the demands of parenthood, but I have to find them while I spend 80 hours a week at home running a day care. Hmmm . . . how easy is this going to be?

I don't really think there's a lot of people out there reading me, even though I'd like to think otherwise, but if you are reading this, whether you do follow me or you just happen to stumble upon this, please comment and let me know I'm not alone.

"For everything you have missed, you have gained something else, and for everything you gain, you lose something else." ~Ralph Waldo Emerson~