Are We Okay?

A real conversation on surviving the hard seasons and finding the good parts

My new book But I’m Bored is available now...

I was having drinks with a friend, and we were sharing motherhood war stories when suddenly I stopped midsentence and said, “No, but are we okay? Because this shit sounds insane. How did we manage?”

Earlier that day, she’d texted me, “Want to walk? It’s nice out.”

“YES!! I am in. But can we walk to drinks instead?”

Done and Done.

This is a very close friend of mine, but we didn’t know each other back when our children were little. I lived in Jersey, she in Philly. But now we both are here in Marblehead, and it’s as though we’ve known each other for lifetimes. Except… sometimes we need to fill in the gaps.

As we walked through the tiny, craggy streets of old town, headed to one of our favorite spots with a water view, we diarrhea-mouthed our stories to one another. Words tumbling out, very few breaths between sentences, and “OMG SAME,” being uttered nonstop… the sign of a good friendship.

We walked and blabbered for twenty minutes and then sat down at a high top, ordered some chilled glasses of Rosé in honor of it being the first week of Spring, and the crispiest, saltiest, most delicious fries alongside our wine.

I was sharing the long, drawn-out story of my daughter’s complicated and kinda scary entrance into the world. My husband was newly diagnosed with a health complication, I had two little kids at home, and my newborn didn’t cry when she came into the world. She was unexpectedly tiny, not feeding well, and it was just… not what I had envisioned nine months before when having a third child felt like a totally great idea.

Anyway, I will spare you the sordid details that I did not spare my bestie. We drained our wine and went back and forth with early motherhood stories, simultaneously amazed at our capabilities and completely flabbergasted that we even got through those times. We kept coming back to this:

How the eff do mothers do it? Carry the physical and mental load of the entire family while also trying not to “lose ourselves?”

Sounds pretty impossible to me.