Dear Emily,
I want to take a moment to apologize. I truly regret how our friendship has shifted and evolved since I became a parent. I know you’ve noticed the changes, and I’m sorry for how I’ve changed, too.
Motherhood is an incredible journey, filled with both thrilling highs and daunting challenges. You and I both anticipated that my life would be different once I became a mom. We knew our conversations would become less frequent and my punctuality would take a nosedive, but I underestimated just how much my entire being would transform.
You’ve been so gracious, still making the effort to visit, bringing thoughtful gifts for my little one, and most importantly, your warm presence. We still exchange pleasantries, but I often find myself distracted, dashing off to rescue my daughter from some new adventure. By the time I return to our chat, you’re just getting into something exciting about your life, and I’m afraid I miss so much of it because I’m juggling various toddler-related crises. For every half-finished conversation, I apologize.
It’s not that I don’t care about your life—your recent trip to Paris or the latest updates from your professional world are still so important to me. In fact, I would cherish just five uninterrupted minutes to hear all about it! But between sleepless nights, early mornings, and endless episodes of the “Sofia the First” marathon, I’m barely holding everything together. Even though we’ve moved past the sleepless nights and diaper changes, I still feel as overwhelmed as I did on day one.
I want you to know that I’m genuinely trying. I understand that my efforts may not always shine through, and for that, I’m sorry. It’s challenging to articulate anything coherent when my mind is a jumble of schedules, unexpected illnesses, and toddler tantrums. I used to be the one who could multitask effortlessly—you lovingly called me “Event Planner Emily.” Now, my only goal is to keep nap time sacred, which has become my brief respite to eat and shower.
I realize that our phone calls often center around me and my daughter. I’m sorry the conversations seem one-sided, with you frequently listening to me shout gentle reminders to my daughter. I apologize for taking ages to respond to your messages. And yes, I know I bombard you with pictures of my little one—sometimes that feels like the only way I can reconnect with you.
I love you, Emily, and I genuinely want to know how you are doing. I know I shouldn’t expect you to carry the weight of our friendship, but I need your patience and understanding during this chaotic time in my life.
So, I apologize if I seem distracted or distant. Please know that my current state is not a reflection of my feelings toward you. It’s just this new journey of motherhood that I’m still navigating. I promise I am listening, and I do care deeply. It might take me some time to figure out this parenting thing, but I hope we can keep our connection alive.
Thank you for your understanding as I find my footing in this new life—like discovering more about home insemination, which you can learn about here. I appreciate your support, and I hope to hear about your adventures soon.
With love,
Jessica