artificial insemination kit for humans
The vibrant sign reading “Just We Too” caught my attention as I parked my snack-filled SUV. I quickly checked my appearance in the rearview mirror, ensuring I looked the same as I did when I left home just moments before. The back seat was silent, leading me to believe that my five-month-old cutie, Mia, was also busy admiring her reflection in her smudged mirror.
After unbuckling her seatbelt, I couldn’t help but admire my little Mia, dressed in a colorful tie-dye outfit topped with a bow that I hoped would remain in place. I whispered to her, recalling our earlier conversation: “Please don’t cry, scream, or pull my hair. And for heaven’s sake, if you need to go, let’s keep it contained, okay?”
With Mia nestled on my hip, I opened the door to the class marketed as the “first step in socializing your child… preparing them for school, social interactions, and even college.” Inside, the women were chatting, and I felt a wave of anxiety wash over me. It was as if I was a nervous freshman on the first day of high school. Laughter bubbled from a group of moms who seemed to be effortlessly juggling their babies, igniting my insecurities about how I appeared holding Mia.
Having moved to this town just before Mia was born, my only acquaintances were the Weight Watchers lady and my neighbors, who had delivered a lovely fruit basket sans chocolate right as the moving trucks departed. This was my opportunity to forge connections for both myself and Mia. I dreamed of hosting playdates where our little ones could crawl around on personalized blankets while we enjoyed coffee and adult conversation. This 45-minute class felt like it had the potential to change everything.
Suddenly, I felt a gentle tap on my arm, and a kind stranger complimented my “cool diaper bag.” I silently thanked my mother-in-law for the suggestion and introduced myself and Mia. We quickly discovered our daughters shared the same birthday, breaking the ice. My nerves began to dissipate as we continued to chat. She mentioned she recognized me from yoga class (thank goodness for downward dog!). I was on my way to making a friend.
Another mom approached with the same diaper bag, and our conversation flowed easily until our instructor, Miss Shari, called us to circle time. Unbeknownst to me, this was the beginning of a beautiful friendship.
The moms around the circle were just my type, and they invited me to lunch afterward (yay!). We devoured our salads, swapping stories about sleepless nights and sharing tips on feeding our babies. I felt as if I had struck gold when we exchanged numbers and set up our first playdate. A PLAYDATE!
That initial meeting blossomed into a weekly lunch, which eventually evolved into “Girls Night Out” dinners. Our babies grew, learning to walk, talk, and play together. Diaper bags were replaced by backpacks, and we celebrated milestones like reading and writing. Our gatherings became a staple in our lives; birthdays, holidays, and summer barbecues were filled with laughter and friendship.
Over the years, we became each other’s support system, sharing everything from marriage struggles to health challenges. We celebrated victories and comforted each other during setbacks. Our “Moms Like Sisters” group chat was a constant source of connection, sharing everything from traffic woes to parenting frustrations.
Time flew by, and soon our children were preparing for their senior year of high school, applying to colleges, and receiving acceptance letters. And now… it’s May. With graduation around the corner, nostalgia hangs heavy in the air.
Gone are the days of sharing wine in the kitchen while our kids recorded TikToks or lounged on the couch scrolling through Instagram. Their laughter, once a comforting background hum, will soon fade into silence—a silence I didn’t know would be so deafening. We took for granted the joy of those little moments.
At my daughter’s college commitment party, I watched her and her friends munch on blue and orange candies, their laughter echoing through the kitchen. I glanced at my friends and felt a pang in my heart. Sending my daughter off to college across the country will be tough, but losing the camaraderie we’ve built over the years is equally daunting. Yes, we will still gather and support each other, but it won’t be the same without our familiar “tribal music” in the background.
“Just We Too” did prepare our kids for their futures, but it also gifted us moms with friendships that saw us through 17 years of parenting. They should definitely add that to their tagline!